“Oh. After that text I guess…”
I shook my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her eyebrows raised. “You didn’t hear from someone today?”
“Who exactly are we talking about?”
Her face fell. “I thought…” she pressed her lips together as she fiddled with the bracelets on her wrist. “Nothing. It was my mistake.”
“Kennedy, please just tell me what’s going on. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No.” She gave me a tight lipped smiled. “Everything’s fine.”
I could be dense, but I knew enough to know that whenever a woman said everything was fine, it was anything but. “You gotta tell me what’s going on here.”
She looked down at the menu instead of responding.
“Kennedy.” I reached across the table to grab her hand.
“Bonjour!” our waiter yelled.
I jumped and dropped her hand. Why was our waiter yelling at us? I looked over at him. “Nigel? What the hell?”
“Not Nigel! I’m Francois!”
I just stared at him. He was definitely Nigel. In a waiter uniform and a very fake looking mustache. He was also wearing glasses he didn’t need. And his hair was all styled to one side and gelled down in a way that screamed French pervert.
“Do you know each other?” Kennedy asked me.
“I…”
“No,” Nigel said cutting me off. “I have never seen this man in my life.” He put his hand to his chest like he was shocked by the accusation. “I have a way with faces. I’m Francois.”
Kennedy looked back and forth between us. How exactly was I supposed to explain to Kennedy that I was currently living with this psychopath? And why was Nigel’s French accent so impeccable?
“Okay…” Kennedy said.
“Can I get the two of you some refreshments? I hear the wine list is fantastique here.” He cleared his throat. “I mean I know it. Because I work here. I’m Francois!”
Why did he keep yelling his fake name? I didn’t know whether to confront him again or just try to ignore it. My train of thought stopped when I caught sight of someone in a corner booth staring at our table over the top of his menu.
He had a big, bushy, fake looking mustache. His hair was also heavy on the gel, even though it was mostly hidden under a bright red beret. And he had rounded glasses…instead of his usual square ones. Yup, that was definitely Tanner. Dressedoddly similar to Nigel even though he was pretending to be a patron and not a fake waiter. What the hell were they doing here? This was completely insane.
And how had they known what restaurant I was going to? I’d only texted Kennedy about the place a couple hours ago. How had Nigel infiltrated the staff so quickly?
Tanner lifted his menu to hide his face when he realized I was staring at him.
Yeah, I was not going to engage in this. I’d just ignore them. They could spy all they wanted. It wasn’t like they were going to ruin my night. “Just bring us a bottle of whatever,” I said.
“Very well, Master. I mean, sir.” Nigel hurried off.
“I have so many questions,” Kennedy said. She was finally smiling. “Do you know him?”
“You wouldn’t believe the story if I told you.”
She laughed. “Well now I’m dying to hear it.” She put her elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly.
“You know how I’m living with Tanner right now?”
