Chapter 19: Sitting

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"Hi," she sheepishly giggled, and I let out a soft sigh, holding my temper that's starting to grow at bay, upon realizing that she had more than enough of that fucking drinks.

"Sorry, Isaias," an almost a squeal from Cynthia, her workmate, catching my attention. She looks totally different with her black dress, heavy makeup on, and that big goofy grin on her face. She looks tipsy, judging by the goofy smile stuck on her face.

I waved her off nonchalantly with my flat face, and turns my eyes back to Angel. My hand seems to have its own mind, curling automatically around her small waist and drew her closer to me. Leaning in, I kissed the top of her head, taking in her scent that I missed for days that felt years, I visibly relax.

"Isaias, please meet my new friends," Angel started, giggling as she introduced the people sitting around the table.

"You already met Cynthia," she grinned ridiculously, then she pointed at the guy beside her, "that's Jasper," she giggled, then she motioned her hand towards the guy from her workplace, too "and Jamieson, his cousin," I remember him. "He's from work," she added. "Amylou, another friend from work, and Geneva, Cynthia's friend and roommate," she grinned goofily.

Looks like she's drunk, she giggled too much, but it's amusing.

"Everyone," she calls out louder enough for them to hear "this is Isaias Vitale," she introduced me, and each one rose up and stretch out their hand for a handshake except for Cynthia.

I can feel the eyes of her friends boring into me, but I ignored them, my eyes trained on my Angel. She looks so happy, but I wasn't.

"You can join us, Mr. Vitale, if you don't mind?" Cynthia said causing me to avert my eyes to her and declined politely.

"I would love to, but I think my girlfriend had enough tonight," I responded shortly, stressing the words, unconsciously clenching my jaws.

"Ohh .." the girls moaned and I ignored it.

"Please ..." Angel begged me, her droopy eyes morphs into a puppy dog eyes, but I'm not caving in.

"NO!" I said sternly, hand tightening around her slim waist. "Let's go, this is not the place for you," I grit out gruffly, scowling at her as I leaned in, and whispered against her ear.

She pouted in disapproval. Just as we turned, the young server whom I remembered as Dion, — sometimes he fills in bartenders who didn't show up — halted on his track, and gave me a smile of recognition, holding a tray with drinks.

"Mr. Vitale," he greeted, nodding his head once to me.

I just nod in response. "Put their tab on mine, Dion. I'll take care of their bar bill," I said, and he nodded briefly. "See if there's any seat available at the private lounge, perhaps they want some privacy, si?" I added, and he nodded once again.

"Will do, sir," he agreed.

I turned to look at everyone at the table who was looking up at me with a shocked face. "Goodnight, everyone!" as I bob my head once, and then led Angel out of the crowded room that's starting to get wild.

"Have a goodnight, sir," one of the bouncers greeted and I just nod my head, leading Angel out of the door. I saw the car a few steps away from the bar. "Hand me your purse," I ordered, and she furrowed her forehead in confusion, nonetheless, she handed it to me without a word. She hardly can walk now, and I gritted my teeth. I don't understand why she needs to wear that fucking shoes, it looks painful to me.

"Can you still walk with that shoes, no?" I asked, askance.

She nodded sheepishly. "Yes, though it's starting to hurt now, but bearable," she giggled, and I stopped, with jaws tightly clenched.

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