Annabel’s POV
I still can’t understand how he can afford this restaurant. Everything about this place screams luxury—the elegant chandeliers, the soft classical music, and the neatly dressed waiters gliding across the room. The prices on the menu must be outrageous, and yet, he sits there so casually, flipping through the pages like it’s nothing.
I stare at him, trying to figure him out, but before I can stop myself, our eyes meet. Embarrassed, I quickly look away, pretending to be focused on something else. Just then, a waiter arrives and places a glass of water in front of us. I hesitate to take a sip. What if he actually can’t afford anything here? What if we end up getting kicked out? The last thing I want is public humiliation.
“What would you like to eat?” he asks, pulling me out
