The Struggle •Unedited•

Chapter 34

•Elisabeth•

We arrived at this very high status, casual restaurant, and as we got off the vehicle, many eyes fell on the two of us - most on him. This was sort of making me feel uncomfortable. As I examine his face, I can tell that he enjoys the attention from those around him. It most likely gives him a sense of empowerment.

Hemmings sent the driver off and in an instant, a host approaches the businessman.

"Hello, Mr. Hemmings," he greets with a smile, "Your table is set up outside and all access has been terminated for today, giving you the privacy you asked for. Everything you requested is in place,"

"Excellent. Lead the way," he demands kindly.

Placing a firm hand on my lower back once again, we begin to walk towards the back. The environment was very calm and relaxing, yet it wasn't eerily quiet. People's slight chatter was heard, but as we passed various tables, their voices lowered and their attention was on us.

Jesus, does everyone know this guy?

The employees that were making their way to their respected tables they were taking care off, scattered towards the wall as we reached a foot away from them. They looked like scared little puppies - as if they were afraid to interfere in our path.

Of course, Luke Hemmings didn't seemed phased by it.

Finally getting through that awkward walk, we finally reach our table that is placed on this beautiful patio. Trees were scattered throughout the sides, providing the perfect mixture between enough shade and sunlight, and different colored flower bushels were indented in between every other two trees. Various tables were around ours, which was in the center, and each had an umbrella placed over the center. The floor was brick, yet the birdhouses that hung on the long thick branches gave the whole scenery a very nature-y feeling.

"And here we are," the host spoke as he motioned his arms towards the only table that has plate settings set.

Surprisingly being a gentleman, Hemmings pulled out the thickly, wired chair and motioned his head, alerting me to take a seat.

I sent a small grin, and placed my body in the very comfortable seating after placing my handbag on the floor. He followed along by taking his own seat and his stunning, cool, blue eyes wandered around the surface of the table.

"Where's the champagne I requested? Why isn't it here?" His tone was stern and frightening. In seconds the host was shaking in his shoes.

"I-I-I'll get your waitress to bring it out in a nano-second. And I'll be sure to, um, alert the manager of the mishap," he stuttered.

"That's a must and it better be the last time this happens," the CEO hissed, "Now send me the waitress,"

He nodded, "Yes, sir."

He wandered off back inside and Hemmings fluttered his eyes close as he released a shaky breath and shook his slender frame of any bad energy.

"Some people just don't know how to take orders correctly," he muttered annoyed.

My eyes never left him, but I was eyeing him with so much dissatisfaction.

"Harsh. Don't you think?" I pointed out.

He scoffed and smirked at me smugly. "Nothing is ever to harsh. I am a man of high power here and they must learn to listen,"

"How are you a man of high power," I mock in goofy voice, "here? This is only a restaurant,"

"Oh, Kitten," he begins.

"Don't call me that,"

"You obviously don't understand. This restaurant we are at," he leans in with his elbows placed on the table and his hands intertwined under his slightly scruffy chin, "is my restaurant. I am the owner. Thus, making me in charge,"