CH7
Logan stared at the rigid woman in front of him, sitting straight like a jukebox with palms folded on top of each other, her eyes looking intently at the tablecloth as if finding the embroidered fabric so fascinating.
He took his time to eye her. She was of reasonable height, thinly built with glossy silver hair parted to the left of her face, displaying dangling silver earrings.
If he could describe her, she would be classified as pretty but not his type. Logan's style would be petite, with voluptuous breasts that would fit right into his hands. This woman couldn't be more than an A-cup. "So," he said, trying to think of any topic at all to converse about, but none came to his mind.
They'd been in the restaurant for well over fifteen minutes, but all she said in that amount of time was her name, Sophia, and her order to the waitress. Where did his dad find these women? What kind of deal were they thinking of doing?
And why must he play a part in their stupid arrangement anyway? Logan tapped his finger on the tablecloth. If he didn't say anything soon, he was sure his brain would combust from boredom. He needed a distraction.
His eyes glanced around the restaurant. It was a beautiful construction, a classic red, gold, and white theme.
Ulysses had booked the reservation, boasting that the food was fantastic. He had never been to a Malaysian restaurant before, but Ulysses had an excellent palate, so Logan trusted his judgment. The area they sat in was a very secluded spot, nestled up on the second level overlooking Auckland Harbor.
Must be the VIP section, Logan thought. At this time of the evening, the sun-kissed the sea, showing off a brilliant yellow-orange hue on the calm water below.
The quiet melodic music and the dimly lit lampshades created a romantic atmosphere. But he didn't feel romantic in the least. Well, not with the jukebox lady anyway.
Now if it were a beautiful petite woman sitting in front of him, then it would be a different story. Heck, even the woman that spat on him last week would be better than the jukebox now. Logan continued to eye his surroundings.
There were only two other occupied tables—one with an elderly couple eating noodles and another with a young man, slightly younger than him, holding a pink rose. Did Pink rose? Blind date maybe.
He was intrigued now as to who might be this mysterious girl who would soon make her appearance. He was glad he was sitting facing the entrance, as this gave him ample opportunity to glance at the door every few seconds without twisting his neck in the process.
But after a good five minutes, he grew bored again. Trying to think of a way to make time go faster, he decided to go to the bathroom and clear his head a bit. The chair made a screech as he pushed it out.