Trace

Chapter 49

EL'S POV

"I'm sorry, this isn't what I ordered," I tell the waitress with a smile when she places a cocktail in front of me.

"Oh, I know you didn't. But he did," the brunette waitress says with a wink.

I turn to look at who she is mentioning and see that it's a guy alone at a table. It is somewhat alarming and I feel uncomfortable; he looks as if he is twenty five years old. The young man winks at me and rubs a hand down his striped blue and white button-down shirt. I turn away quickly with heated cheeks.

"Did she come for our dinner orders yet?" Harry places himself back into his chair after using the toilets.

"Um..I don't think so."

He laughs, "What do you mean you don't think so? Wouldn't you have noticed if- hey! Why didn't you order me a cocktail, too?" Harry is quick to notice the drink in front of my empty plate.

I swallow. If I tell Harry the older man ordered it for me, he will go balistic.

"Oh, sorry," I mumble hastily.

"Since when do you drink?" he quizzes, taking a sip of his iced water.

I sigh. "I don't really drink. I just thought that since we were here at this fancy re-"

I am cut off by the brisk return of the brunette waitress.

"Your friend over there wishes to know if you are having a good time tonight," she giggles to herself.

Are you fucking kidding me.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see Harry's fists clench.

"What 'friend'?" he hisses through his teeth.

The waitress giggles again and gives a wave of her hand.

"That young gent over there. He practically demanded me to give this bird a drink," she says, flipping her hair.

She clearly doesn't know what fire she is fueling.

Harry is out of his seat in a hearbeat, and I find myself scrambling after him.

"Harry, please!" I hiss quietly, grabbing his arm, "please don't make a scene! Sit back down."

He shakes my grip off of him and before I know it, has my 'friend' by his blue and white striped collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you creep?" Harry demands furiously.

The man's eyes are wide with shock and confusion.

Harry gives him a shake. "You think it's cool to send taken girls drinks their way?!"

The man's pupils are full of horror, yet he cautiously places a hand on Harry's arm.

"I-I'm sorry! Mate, I meant nothing by it, I swear."

Harry laughs loudly. "Nothing by it, yeah?" he jeers.

My stomach sinks when two men come rushing to the table. I anxiously back up.

"What is going on here?" one of them presses.

I look away, humiliated as the rest of the restaurant silences.

"Sir, we're gonna have to ask you to leave," the man firmly puts his hand on Harry's shoulder- a fatal mistake.

Instinctively, Harry's elbow jolts backwards, connecting with the man's nose. Unisonal gasps ripple around the tables.

The injured man grabs ahold of his now blood-gushing nose, and the other grabs Harry, pulling both of his hands behind his back.