Page 107 of The Immortal’s Mark

The hostess returns with our drinks, and a waitress arrives right behind her.

“Sorry about the wait,” the waitress says brightly. “My name is Hannah, and I’ll be serving you today. I see Cari got you started with drinks. Do we need more time, or are we ready to order?”

Her eyes lock onto Gregory, and she smiles.

He doesn’t notice.

“Gregory,” I say.

His gaze snaps to me. “Yes?”

I jerk my chin toward the waitress. “Are you going to order?”

“Ah.” He grabs a menu and reads the first thing his eyes land on. “A house salad. Italian dressing.”

“You got it,” Hannah says, pulling out a notepad. “Anything else? Would you like an appetizer to go with your salad?”

Why does it sound like she’s offering herself up as the appetizer?

“No, thank you,” he replies, already looking back around the room.

Hannah’s shoulders deflate.

“I’ll take the chicken-fried steak,” Paige says. “Mashed potatoes and gravy on the side, please.”

She jots down the order and turns to me. “And you?”

“Grilled salmon, please. With grilled vegetables and rice.”

“Great.” Hannah scribbles on the notepad, then tucks it into her apron. “Your food will be out shortly.”

She gathers the menus and walks away, but instead of heading to the computer to enter our order, she goes straight to the hostess stand.

Cari and Hannah immediately lean close, whispering like they’re plotting. Every few seconds, one of them glances at Gregory.

“Good grief,” I mutter, but I’m the only one watching the obvious exchange.

Paige is tapping away on her phone, and Gregory is back to scanning the room.

I let my gaze wander the restaurant, admiring the old movie posters and signed headshots of celebrities I don’t recognize, until my attention lands on the bar.

A tattooed bartender smiles as he speaks to one of the female customers in front of him, his muscles bulging under his tight black shirt. There is another man behind him with a shaker in his hand. He’s shorter, less bulky, but his jaw is sharp enough to cut glass.

The second bartender says something that makes his coworker and the female customer laugh. Then his attention snaps to the left.

His eyes widen.

Curious, I follow his line of sight.

There’s nothing there…except Paige.

I stare at her, then back at him, and let out a disbelieving laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Paige and Gregory are obviously attractive, but the staring is a little ridiculous.

“What?” Gregory’s head snaps toward me, alarm in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head quickly. “It’s just that most of this restaurant seems preoccupied with ogling the two of you. I’m starting to feel frumpy by comparison.”