Sharpies and sticky notes

In which she runs into Lombardi himself

"Nice to meet you Jackson. I'm Alexis Lancaster. I'm mainly a Media Analyst and PR manager for Knight & Lancaster, but, what I do varies depending on the client's needs."

"Oh yeah, before I forget, I brought you some flowers. I hope you don't mind." He says, handing me the bouquet.

"Thanks," I say, "But I was just thinking to myself that if you want to waste your money on a girl, the more sensible option would be to buy her a beautiful set of throwing knives. Or a good gun. Or some throwing stars. Or a beautiful katana..." I stopped my list of amazing gift ideas when I saw the look on his face.

"I can honestly say that's the first time a girl suggested to me that I buy her weapons on a date. I'll keep your suggestions in mind for our next date, which I hope we have. But, if you don't mind my asking, what use could you possibly have for them?"

"I'll tell you that I won't use them to dismember or disembowel people who piss me off..." I replied 'honestly'.

A male waiter saved me from further questioning when he came to collect our orders.
From there on, we continued on in relative silence. Not the comfortable silence either. Awkward silence. Now and then we would each try to start up a conversation, but the conversations slowly died out as we realised we either had nothing in common, or were just uncomfortable talking to each other.

Fed up with this, and cursing Cassandra, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I didn't need to use it, I was just planning on reading a book on Wattpad for a few minutes, or playing a game on my phone.

Weighing the pros and cons of just leaving the restaurant, I walked out of the restroom, I'm glad they called it a "restroom" it's where people go to rest from crappy dates like this one.

I was so caught up in praising the ingenuity of the word "rest-room" that I didn't notice the wall of muscle standing in front of me until I walked into him after turning around the corner. I was just about to utter an apology when he whirled on me so fast I was forced to take a step back.

It was Ryan.

Unfortunately, his movement was so quick and violent that when I took a step back, one of my earrings fell off, so I immediately bent down to try and retrieve my earring.

Could this guy not leave me alone? Why did we keep running into each other?  Surely this city was big enough for us to both peacefully exist without constantly stressing each other out by existing. Unless was playing some sort of cruel game that aimed to agitate us. If that was the case then, I don't know what to say.

"Good evening Miss Lancaster although I am pleased to see you finally giving me a modicum of the respect I should receive; I'm surprised to see you here considering the work I expect done for me on Tuesday. I suppose it's a free country, and since you're not in my employ, I can't lock you in a room and force you to work. Could you do me a favour though, and walk with your eyes open, and all of your neurons working."

"My, Mister Matthews," I said, getting up and lacing my voice with enough sweetness to bake two cakes with. "I don't think that highly of you. You're not that monumental in my life. Just a pesky nuisance. Don't let other people's praise for you get to your head." 

"I'm not bowing down to you, you idiot." I said, speaking normally again. "I'm looking for my earring, which fell off when you turned and basically knocked me off my feet. It is, however, none of your concern what I do in my spare time. Although, I wonder what you are doing here of all places. One would expect you to be running around throwing women's shoes into oncoming traffic, or just generally ruining someone's night. It is, after all, a beautiful Friday evening and we wouldn't want anybody to be enjoying their night too much, would we? Or do you just have a thing for annoying me specifially?"

"I'm sorry to hear about your earring, but it probably fell through a gap in the floorboards. You should have bought a better pair. One that actually stays in your ear the way I assume earrings are supposed to."

To that I responded by batting my eyelashes and continuing on my way (sans earring) past him, making sure to 'accidentally' push against him. I felt him look at me for a second before turning back around and doing whatever he'd been doing.

The little verbal sparring session with Ryan (if you wanted to even call it that, since all we'd done was insult each other for no apparent reason...) gave me newfound energy to face the rest of my dreadful date with Jackson and when I arrived back at the table, he was mumbling to himself about knives but he stopped as soon as he noticed me.

"Sir, Mam, I was asked to bring this to your table, as a little gift from the manager." The waiter said, before putting a plate of red velvet cake in front of each of us.

"Umm.... Thanks, I guess" Jackson said, looking uncomfortable for some strange reason.

"No Problem sir, if you need anything else, just call."

The mystery behind the cake thing gave us something to talk about at least, so the awkwardness was relieved a little.

In the middle of the conversation, Ryan walked up to our table and cleared his throat.

"Everything to your liking?" He asked, looking between us and acting like the manager for some reason.

"Yes. I don't understand how that's any of your concern, Sir, but thank you." Jackson said with a polite smile.

"That's because as the owner of something, one must often check up on one's properties to make sure there isn't a chance of said properties falling into decline." Ryan replied, giving Jackson a look akin to one a lion assessing his prey might.

Wait. He just said 'as the owner of something'... 'check up on one's properties'
Translation: He owns something. He checks up on things he owns.

But he's here right now. Not eating with anyone. Which means that he....

Which means that...

RYAN OWN'S LOMBARDI'S

When I came to that conclusion, the piece of cake I'd been enjoying decided to come spraying out of my mouth. All over Jackson's face.

'Way to go, Genius. Why'd you spit your cake all over his face?' My subconscious chose that moment to come back from wherever she'd been. Figures she would appear AFTER something like this happens. I really need to get a helpful subconscious.

"You own this restaurant." I said, standing up after picking my jaw up from where it fell, Jackson and his cake covered face forgotten.
"This is your restaurant." I repeated, just to make sure the words came out of my mouth properly the first time.

"Yes, it is." Ryan said with a smug look on his face. I ached to wipe it off.

"This restaurant belongs to Ryan," I said, remembering that Jackson was there. He still had my cake on his face.

"I think we've already established that." Jackson replied, annoyed.

In all fairness, I should have helped him get the cake off his face instead of gaping like an idiot. It was my fault it was there after all. And I would have, had the floor not chosen that moment to start falling out from under the table.
Ryan, Jackson, and the rest of the people in the restaurant were forgotten as the world faded to black around me.

What the heck is going on? My subconscious asked before she also faded away.

The last thought on my mind was about Red Velvet Cake and restaurant owners before I gave in to unconsciousness.

Dedicated to neno__ for the lovely cover♥