From My Love to My Life (MXM) (sequel to From My Enemy to My Love)

Chapter 7

Kannika Watakeekul (surprise - you can probably all guess where this is going)

I let Gabe have the last bite of the key lime pie. I might have been more adamant about eating it myself or at least splitting it in half, but our server, Julio, came back to our table.

"How was everything?" he asked.

"Good," Gabe said.

"Delicious," I said. I had known Julio for a long time. When I was studying Spanish in high school, I came here all the time to practice my Spanish.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the manager, who was also Julio's mother, came to our table. She asked me how my life was going and since we had always spoken Spanish with each other, we went into automatic mode and spoke in Spanish now. Julio joined in on our conversation. It had been a while since I had come here and got so caught up in reminiscing that I forgot about Gabe.

He handed his credit card pointedly to Julio. Julio nodded at him politely and left to process the card. I must have scowled at Gabe because he said, "What?" defensively.

I hadn't known him for long. He was handsome. I had met him at one of the parties Bree had dragged me to. He had seemed nice on our first date and through this date, but I was now beginning to question it.

Julio came back and handed the credit card back to Gabe, "Have a great evening," Julio said in English.

"Thank you," I said to him as I followed Gabe out.

"Sorry I didn't include you in the conversation," I said as soon as we were out the door. "I just haven't seen them in so long."

He didn't say anything as he continued to walk to his car. Yeah, I probably was in the wrong, getting caught up in a conversation my date couldn't understand, but with how he was acting now, I was beginning to think he was just a dick.

I stopped walking as we approached his car. He reached the driver's side door before he realized I wasn't with him. He had opened his car door, but he closed it when he saw I wasn't moving. He sighed heavily as if he was annoyed and approached me.

"You don't have to show off all the time," he said angrily.

"Show off?" I asked as my own anger began to bubble to the surface. "How was that showing off? And how is it all the time?"

"It's showing off because you're flaunting how smart you are in everyone's faces. And it is all the time because you spoke Spanish tonight to our server and that old woman and at the party where we first met you were speaking French to that one person."

"It wasn't French, it was German. They sound nothing alike and he is German and was relieved not to have to speak English for just a short while. Being smart is not showing off. I'm a linguist. I'm fluent in six languages and conversational in many others. I study languages. My job is a translator. Most of the time I translate books, but every once in a while I'm called in to translate at a convention or meeting or something."

"Whatever," he said, "just get in. I'll take you home." He started to walk back to his car.

I rolled my eyes and started to walk through the parking lot away from him and back towards the restaurant.

"Kannika," he called after me. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?" I bit, spinning back to him. "I don't have time in my life to deal with a man too insecure to deal with a smart woman whose job intimidates him." I continued my walk back to the restaurant.

"Come on," he said and reached out and grabbed my wrist. But I was angry and disgusted with him. I wasn't going to allow him to touch me.

I twisted out of his grasp, quickly grabbed his wrist and twisted. He cried out in pain. "I'll make this easy for you," I said, "forget you ever met me. Forget my number. Don't contact me and definitely don't ever touch me."