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“The pigs. You raise pigs, right?” he said.
“No. I raise chickens and sell their eggs,” she said.
“Right, sorry.” Scott smiled apologetically, but his face changed when their server Tabitha stopped at their table. The woman’s icy demeanor hadn’t thawed one bit. If anything, she seemed even more rage-filled with every visit to their table.
“How is everything?” Tabitha asked.
“Delicious,” Savina said brightly. “Thank you.”
Tabitha stared at her, and Savina’s smile faltered under the pure hatred in her gaze.
“Oh good, I’m so glad,” Tabitha said. The venom in her voice made Savina sure Tabitha would be shanking her at some point during the meal.
Tabitha turned to Scott. “And you, sir? How is your meal?”
“It came out a bit cold,” Scott said.
“I’ll be sure to mention that to the chef,” Tabitha said.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s an issue of a slow server,” Scott said.
Savina stared at him in shock as he pointed to his glass of beer and rudely said, “I’ll take another beer.”
Okay, forget banging Scott tonight. She’d never let some guy who treated servers this poorly see her lady bits. Fuck that dude.
Tabitha snatched up his half-empty beer. “Of course, sir. Right away, sir.”
“Oh, and, Tabitha?” Scott said as she started to walk away. “Maybe try to pour it in a way that I’m not basically paying for foam.”
“Scott,” Savina said, “don’t be a dick.”
Before he could reply, Tabitha whirled around to face him, her hand clenched around his drink. “You know what? Maybe we should just get rid of this beer and start fresh.”
“Probably for the best,” Scott said snottily.
Savina’s eyes widened when Tabitha said, “You’re just so happy to throw away the best fucking beer of your life and take a new one home, aren’t you, Scott?”
“The new beer doesn’t nag me all fucking day, Tabitha.”
“Maybe if you picked up your fucking socks every once in a while, the old beer wouldn’t have to nag you, Scott.”
“Maybe if the old beer didn’t expect me to say ‘how high’, the minute she told me to ‘jump’, I wouldn’t be looking for a new beer.”
“You asshole!” Tabitha shouted before pouring the half-empty mug of beer directly onto Scott’s lap.
Scott jumped to his feet and wiped his hand across his crotch. “Are you fucking kidding me, Tabitha? These are brand new khakis. They cost me fifty bucks!”
“Oh, so suddenly you can spend fifty bucks on pants to look good for your little whore, but I can’t hit Sephora’s midnight madness sale?”
“That makeup is stupidly expensive!” Scott shouted as the hum of noise in the restaurant died out, and every single person in the room stared at their table.
“It makes me look pretty!” Tabitha yelled.
“You don’t need that stupid make-up shit to be pretty,” Scott snapped. “You’re fucking gorgeous without it, Tabitha!”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Tabitha asked.
“Of course I do,” Scott said. “You’re a fucking knock-out, babe.”
