RAYVIN: FALLING FOR THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE.

CHAPTER TWELVE

R A Y V I N 

Food gave me a different kind of happiness. Add a good wine to it, and I am over the moon. The joy I felt right now, was something that I wished would last forever. 'Thank you, Saint,' my inner mind screamed. The night was going so well until some attention-seeking couple ruined it. Their distraction wasn't for me, so I did what I knew how to do best. Ignore them like they weren't even in the building. The only person I wanted smacking, was my sister. I can't believe that she was one of those people that got star-struck whenever they saw a rich person. They were like every other person there. Same flesh and blood. The only difference was that they had more money and could afford luxury than us. The flashy things, especially the hot looking model sitting with the man who looked too familiar to ignore, screamed rich. Familiar? Was it the wine kicking in? Because, I swear I've seen that figure somewhere. It is impossible. But, anyway, it was too dim to properly recognize him. One remarkable thing that caught my attention was the girl's hair. It was midnight-black, and it flowed over her shoulders and she played effortlessly with it. The whole drama happening was undoubtedly what she wanted. You could tell from the way she gave full attention to it.

Snap out of, Rayvin Hall! Focus. Mind your own damn business.

Scolding Miranda, she turned her attention to me, but, that didn't last for long.

The restaurant began to play Oliver Twist by Ardee. The volume was reasonable and pleasant to the ear. We began nodding and humming to it. The sound made the place lively.

“This song is so nice.” Miranda quietly drummed her fingers on the table.

“I love the beat,” still nodding to it.

“Excuse me, ma'am. A gentleman sent this to your table.” A hot blonde-haired waiter interrupted, holding a red wine in an ice bucket.

“Which gentleman?” I inquired.

“He requested that he would prefer to be kept Anonymous. More like your secret admirer.” Placing the bucket on our now empty table.

“As you can see, we are two. Who is it meant for?” I asked again. Wanting to make sure that there wasn't some kind of mix up. “Are you sure you are at the right table?”

“Yes ma'am. And it was sent to your table for you.” Grabbing the wine, “would you like me to go ahead and open it?”

“No, thank you. I'll take care of it.”

“Okay. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” bowing, he left.

“OMG! Someone has a secret admirer. This is good. I think whenever I want to eat something nice, somewhere fancy, I would just go with you. You are my ticket to getting free meals and drinks.”

“Don't overreact. Maybe it is another gift from Saint. He is trying to play a gentleman by not making it obvious he wants to intentionally get us drunk with expensive wine. Bring it on.” Popping the wine open, “I have nothing to lose. It is not as if I had a job that I'll be getting back to in the morning, which would have caused me to worry about getting hungover. None of that. We had a reason to celebrate.” Filling our glasses, “this is to me getting fired!”

Clinking our glasses, “hell yes! We are about to get drunk! Cheers to one jobless lady added to the society!” I screamed. Gulping down my wine, “is it just me, or is this place unnecessarily hot because of the hot men around us. Everyone is so hot. From the doorman down to the waiters, even to the guests, hot! Hot men!”

“Shhh. Keep it down. Your voice is too loud.” Miranda shushed me.

“My voice isn't loud. It is the music. It has gotten loud!” Gulping down another glass.

“You should take it easy on how fast you down your drink, Rayvin.”

“Keep preaching to the choir, sissy sis. Hahaha.”

“You haven't told me what happened with your job.”

“Don't want to. This night will not be ruined because of that.”

As soon as the wine streamed from my tongue down my throat to my stomach, it hit different spots and brought them to life. The restaurant began to rotate and sparks of rainbows filled the air. We had almost finished this bottle of wine. Truthfully, it was more of me than we. I just couldn't get enough of the wine. The aftertaste left on my tongue made me desire more.

“I would love to end up in the bed of one of the guys here. I bet they will do things to me that would stay vivid in my head for a long time.” Smiling and gently sipping her wine.

“Miranda, they might be hot, sexy, and cute, but, I haven't seen a real gentleman,” another gulp. “Wife issues. Serial cheater. Humor void. One-night stand. Heartbreaker.” With each guy who sat there, I ticked off my initial impression to her. I had an unusual knack for sizing up males—I was a regular and perfect at it.

“Manalyst.” she called me," what a joy killer.”

I rolled my eyes at her, then waved at one of the waiters who was passing by our table. Again, hot, tall, sexy, blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Why do I have a feeling that people who worked here, were selected? Because they all fitted a particular category and had three things in common. They either had redhead, blonde or golden hair, they had this model figure and their smile was irresistible. Both male and female, all hot. Especially the males. And the place had more males than females.

“Yes, ma'am.” He answered with a killer smile.

'I wanted to tell him not to smile. Stop it. None of you should try that seductive thing with your smile.' Saying all that would be too much. Right? “Can we get salt, tequila, and lime? Is it served here?”

“Yes, it is. But you will have to go over to the bar which is just there,” pointing to a bar by the far-right from where we sat.

“Oh, thank you. We hadn't even noticed that such a thing was there. Bar, here we come!” I whispered to Miranda.

The waiter simply smiled and left.

“No. No. No. We are not drinking more than this. Do you want to end up in the E. R?”

“You are so boring. Take a chill pill. Just two shots and that is it. I want to have so much fun. I am having fun, but I want so much of it.”

Throwing her hands up in defeat, “whatever that makes you happy.”

Standing, I bumped into a strong chest. Oh, my. “I am so sorry… Saint?”

“Heading somewhere.” He used his hands to steady my wobbling movement.

“She insists on getting herself deadbeat drunk. We headed for the bar.”

“That is not bad. I'll be with you guys shortly. I just have some paperwork to fill in before I end my work for the night.” Turning to me, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“Sure, did. It tasted sexy,” laughing.

Smiling, “I had no idea we had such a taste. Would you be alright by yourself?”

Of course not. I've never been alright by myself after…silly me. He meant me walking to the bar. I think I was losing it. “Yes. Thank you. Excused me,” I began carefully tracking my steps to the bar, with Miranda muttering some indiscernible words behind me.

We got to the bar and sat on the high bar stool that made it difficult for your legs to comfortably reach the ground. My gown kept riding up, and I had to keep adjusting and adjusting it so that I don't accidentally flash anyone.

“Two shots. Please,” screaming to the barman, who was another blonde hot guy. In fact, for the rest of the night, I had made a deal with myself not to check any of the males out again. Whatever sanity I had left would be invested in me getting my drunk ass home.

After two shots of the extra dinner of salt, tequila, and lime, the drinks started hitting spots in my body aggressively. Miranda murmured in my ear, “You better be careful, you picky prude, or else you’ll take your hymen to your grave. Like a skin tag. Better make up your mind on which guy you are going to have a great time with.”