weapons † hs [two]

4. finally

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this pic is so cute!!! loving my manips for this book!

"Hello, we're here for a reservation under the name Baker," Ryan, looking dashing in his eccentric blouse, smiles at the hostess while I stand apprehensively at his side, checking to see if my dress shows any hint of pregnancy.

I decided on a not too short striped dress that I thought would be flowy enough to wear around in case I see Harry tonight to hide the pregnancy until I'm ready to tell him.

Which, by how much I'm wanting to throw up right now, is so not happening tonight on my watch.

The lights are dim in the restaurant, barely showing a thing with how dark the walls are. The many busy tables however are lit by candles, setting the mood. The space has a rather floral touch, yet geometric and modern enough to balance it out. With chatter from strangers and soft jazz music around us, I somehow feel Harry's presence in here as we're guided to a table.

Ryan sweetly pushes me in once I sit in a chair, then situating himself in front of me at our table for two.

"This place is fucking gorgeous, do you think he owns it? What if he was like this rich, fancy restaurant owner?" Ryan proposes the thought, both of us imagining businessman Harry kicking up his Gucci boots on top of a desk of his own, this beautiful, packed restaurant raking in his money as the man who never worked a day in his life lounges and watches it happen with pride.

"But, he likes to be the one cooking," I point out, uncertain about Harry owning the place. "Any time we went out to eat, he'd complain about the kitchen and figure he could've made a better meal himself."

My boyfriend was a little bit of a narcissist, admittedly in fact, but I found that confidence sort of cute about him.

"You think a rich man like him would be working in the kitchen? Making up menus and working long hours?" Ryan gives me a look of disbelief, turning over his menu to start looking through it.

"If he's a fugitive, why not blend in with the masses and be normal with a normal job?" I suggest, but Ryan waves the idea off, opening his menu.

I serve myself the water that already was chilling in ice at the table, downing it while my nerves grow, my eyes scanning the room desperately.

I know he's in here somewhere, but where and why is the question.

"Holy crap..." Ryan's jaw drops before me, suddenly tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he does when he finds something amusing.

"What?"

He turns his head up to face me, an open smile as he reveals, "I just found out where Harry is, and you were right."

"What? How?" I beg to know, my brows knitted in confusion when he gestures for me to open the menu and have a look for myself at how Harry is possibly a cook at this place.