Blue Plate Restaurant

This restaurant was classy—carpeted floor, velvet armchairs, chandeliers. The place screamed luxury. Yet here she was—Angela, feeling like she was in the worst place on earth right now.

Holding her wine glass near her mouth, Angela watched as Gael walked with the leggy black-haired woman who looked like Gal Gadot in her twenties, wearing a black bodycon tube dress and Louboutins, looking very much like a model as she strutted across the room with her arm hooked with Gael's. The woman was nearly as tall as him—what a match.

Angela felt small for a tiny second when her mind began to compare herself to the other. For her lunch date with Vincent, she wore a blush pink off-shoulder dress that hugged her curves nicely.

But as soon as she realized what she was doing, she cleared her throat and brushed her thoughts away as she chugged the drink in her glass. The dry and sweet wine burst in her mouth, but she tasted the bitterness soon after. Tch.

She wasn't surprised when the restaurant host guided Gael and his arm candy to their table—which was the one next to Angela and Vincent's. Although it was near them, the tables weren't exactly parallel to each other. Instead, Gael's table was diagonally positioned.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Gael asked the woman as he pulled the seat for her. Then he removed his coat and put it over her bare shoulders, before taking the chair opposite her.

"What's wrong with it? I like this dress. I bought it with your card," answered the woman with a broad smile on her face. She didn't sound American at all.

Angela's ears perked at their exchange. She didn't think Gael had seen her yet as he hadn't looked her way. If he did, he would have said something to her, right? Not that she cared if he did. Whatever.

She could see part of his back and side profile from where she sat. And she believed that his date must be someone important because he dressed up nicely and he was even smiling at her.

What was he even doing here? Did he do this on purpose? Or was this just a coincidence? What kind of joke was this? 'And who the hell is that beautiful woman with flawless legs? Ugh!' she groaned in her head.

"Angela?"

Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Vincent. He held the wine bottle and asked her, "Would you like some more wine? You seem parched."

She softly chuckled and nodded. "In the middle of the day? Why not..."

He smiled back at her and poured wine in her glass. She could no longer hear what Gael and the woman were talking about because their tables weren't near enough for her to eavesdrop—not that she intentionally wanted to—she was only curious.

'Keep lying to yourself, Angela,' she said in her mind.

She initially thought that seeing Vincent for lunch meant that she could at least get to know the man differently than the first time. But now, all she could think of was the other man on the table near them.

They started eating. Angela decided to forget about Gael and that woman. It wasn't fair to Vincent that she wasn't giving him the attention. So she took a deep breath and pulled a charming smile on her face as they talked about several things. She ended up talking to him about her foundation's school project for the kids in the orphanage.

Then he told her about a similar project that he did a couple of years ago. She learned several things from him, and for a minute, she forgot about Gael's presence at the other table.

However, her attention was caught again when she noticed a movement from her periphery. Gael's date handed her phone to him, and as soon as he saw whatever she was showing him, he laughed.

He friggin' laughed!

"Oh, Honey…" Gael's shoulder shook as he chuckled. He appeared to be stupidly having a good time with his lunch date.

Angela instinctively glanced at the woman as soon as she heard Gael. 'I see…'

"Damn it…" Vincent sighed as he looked at his phone.

"What is it?" Angela probed when she faced him again.

"I have to take this phone call. Do you mind if I step out for a bit? I promise I won't take long. It's an international call."

"No. Of course… Go ahead." She flashed him a smile. It couldn't be helped.

"Sorry. I'll be back soon."

Once Vincent left, Angela took a deep breath before taking a huge gulp of her wine. Who knew she would end up drinking at noon?

"What a rude date," a familiar low voice commented not far from her, causing her heart to ram against her chest suddenly. Her jaw tightened upon hearing Gael's voice. "Taking a phone call in the middle of a meal…" he added.

She turned to look at him and saw that he was alone at the table. Gael wasn't looking at Angela, but the way he spoke was pretty apparent that he was talking to her. He had a glass of wine in his hand and a pissed-off expression on his face.

His remark annoyed her. Crossing her arms across her stomach as she leaned back, she arched a brow and faced front as she responded, "At least he knows how to use a phone. That's what phones are for—calling."

Her salty comeback burned her throat. What she said was unnecessary, especially since she already knew what Gael had been through the last three months. But he was making it hard for her at the moment. She was convinced that him coming to this restaurant wasn't a coincidence. He must have come here to ruin her lunch with Vincent.

Gael scoffed. "Who is he?"

"Who is she?" Angela questioned back.

"Why? Are you jealous?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Why would I be? I have no reason to."

A sexy smirk ghosted his lips before he sipped his wine. Then, his face hardened when he spat, "Your date sounds like an egoistic and controlling perfectionist who probably schedules even his bathroom breaks."

Angela was trying so hard not to laugh at Gael's judgment, so she pursed her lips into a thin line to suppress herself from laughing. He sounded so harsh—though he wasn't entirely wrong. The man was indeed a perfectionist. Was Gael's hearing that good? Did he hear everything that she and Vincent were talking about? Regardless—who was he to criticize Vincent?

"You seem to be having so much fun with your date. She looks like a great company," she muttered in an extremely disinterested tone.

Gael let out a low sigh. Turning his head slightly to the side until he met her stare, he kept an impassive expression when he questioned, "Do you like him? Is that why you're dressed up like that?"

His face was unreadable, but his stare was ablaze that she could feel her insides melting. She had to clench her hand tightly to keep her expression neutral. His question reminded her of how he asked his date about the same thing earlier. If she didn't know better, she would think that he was actually asking her and not his date. She couldn't answer his question, so she swallowed and looked away.

"Sorry about that." Vincent arrived and sat down on his seat. "So… Tell me more about this school project."

Angela was glad that Vincent came back. At least she could go back to pretending that Gael wasn't there—even though that was impossible—now that she knew he could hear everything.