VALERIE
As I sat across from Reed, I couldn't help but notice the waitress's attempts to capture his attention. She was a striking blonde with hazel eyes that I would have found attractive if not for the venomous glances she kept casting my way.
I found the situation mildly amusing, observing how she lingered around our table, pretentiously inquiring about our opinion on the food while batting her unnaturally long eyelashes at Reed.
He, however, remained oblivious to her charms, responding to her questions with brief answers while maintaining eye contact with me. I admired his focus and found her advances irritating.
The waitress continued to interrupt us and I assumed the hateful looks aimed at me was due to my muteness. Reed and I communicated seamlessly through sign language, and yet, he still devoted his attention to me. I reveled in his focus and felt grateful to be the sole recipient of his interest.
The restaurant, a new and popular establishment, was impressive with friendly staff and an inviting atmosphere. Reed mentioned that the owner was a business associate of his, which explained the secluded table we occupied. I appreciated the quiet, peaceful ambiance, perfect for a romantic evening.
As we conversed, Reed signed. Where do you want to go tomorrow?
I shrugged, and he smirked. What do you want to do tomorrow?
I pretended to ponder, tapping my finger against my cheek.
We could spend tomorrow in each other's company in the hotel.
He smirked mischievously, making my heart race and my stomach flutter. I sensed he was up to something.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and I nodded.
You want us to be alone?
I nodded again, slightly perplexed. The waitress reappeared, but I ignored her, focusing on Reed's devilish grin.
Sure, he signed. We could, you know, exercise.
I frowned, unsure what he meant. Did he want us to hit the gym? I wasn't fond of exercise, but if that's what he desired, I was willing to compromise.
Sure, I signed.
His grin grew wider and more devious, and I suspected our definitions of exercise differed significantly.
Okay, wife. You agreed to this. You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow after our splendid exercise.
I raised an eyebrow, a gesture I'd adopted from him.
I sighed. Don't be dramatic.
But I had a feeling he was planning something more sinister.
Just then, the waitress "accidentally" spilled champagne on my dress. I gasped, staring at her in disbelief as she attempted to feign an apologetic expression. Reed shot her a terrifying look, and she stuttered an apology before scurrying away, tripping over her own feet as I blotted the spill with a napkin.
I felt a pang of sympathy for her but it was quickly vanished as I saw Reed's stare. He turned to me, and his expression transformed, replaced by a sly smirk.
You were so harsh on her, I signed which earned me an eyeroll.
I sighed. It's not her fault she's smitten.
He smirked. It is.
No it's not. You're just so perfect. She fell for your looks.
