~Christopher’s POV~
I made a reservation for Camille and me. The restaurant caters to celebs alone. I know my wife is unconcerned about what others think of her. I don’t expect her to be dressed to the nines. I did not reserve a private place. Camille despises being in the limelight, but I want her to feel at ease with me today. I watched as her car pulled up, and reporters ran up to her, covering the only view I had to watch her. The only thing I could see was the flashlights coming from the reporter’s cameras. I didn’t dare move from my seat, knowing fully well that my wife could be wearing sweatpants. I didn’t care, since I know her. While I was busy pressing my phone in anticipation of her arrival, I overheard everyone questioning who she was,
“Oh my God, who is she? She is such a beauty.” I guess they are referring to whoever just walked in, but then I glanced up and
Fuck!
