Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 440

The table was quiet for a long moment.

Sylvia stared at the man across from her, trying to figure out if he was joking.

But before she could say anything, the restaurant manager rushed over, looking flustered.

“I’m so sorry, our server mixed up the table numbers. This is table 26.”

Sylvia immediately glanced over her shoulder at the man waiting at table 27 behind her.

Biting her lip in embarrassment, she turned back to the man in front of her. “Sorry, sir, total mix-up. Hope you have… a good date.”

One look at his tailored suit and expensive watch told her he was way out of her league—and definitely not someone she wanted to mess with.

She got up quickly and moved to the correct table, apologizing to her client as she sat down.

Just as she settled in, a woman dressed head-to-toe in the latest designer fashion slid into the seat Sylvia had just vacated.

The woman didn’t waste a second. “You look alright, but honestly, I’ve got more than a few millionaires chasing me. Unless you’re offering at least a million bucks, don’t even bother.”

Sylvia couldn’t help herself; she pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Judging by that man’s watch alone, he could buy and sell this woman five times over. Clearly, she didn’t know what she was looking at.

As Sylvia tried to stifle her amusement, she noticed the man’s gaze briefly flicker her way. She quickly straightened up and focused on pitching her new design to her client.

Meanwhile, at table 26…

The man listened to the woman rattle off her “marriage requirements,” his expression icy. Then, without a word, he waved his hand in front of her face as if shooing away a fly.

The woman, affronted, touched her cheek. “Excuse me? I know I look good, but I’m not just a pretty face—”

He cut her off, sounding bored. “You’re blocking my view.”

She huffed. “No wonder you’re still single. What a waste of time.”

With that, she grabbed her purse and stormed off, not looking back.

Sylvia, meanwhile, was deep into her presentation, hardly paying attention to the drama at the next table. She was explaining the details of her latest jewelry collection, her nerves settling as she got into the flow.

The man at table 26, however, found himself listening to her voice—a clear, soothing sound that stood out in the morning bustle. He signaled the waiter for another cup of coffee and settled in.

A little while later, Sylvia and her client finalized the last design. She watched her client leave, then began packing up her sketches. Just as she was about to go, the man at table 26 raised his coffee mug in her direction.

“Care to join me for breakfast?”

She hesitated, giving him a wry smile. “Sorry, I don’t eat with people I don’t like.”

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