Alexia POV
Of course, life couldn't let me walk in like I owned the place without throwing a little more chaos into the mix. I should've known those receptionists wouldn't let me go scot-free.
I'd barely made it halfway through the overly polished, chandelier-infested restaurant when I caught the sound of heavy footsteps behind me. Great. Security.
I didn't even need to look back to confirm it. The whole place had that silent hush—you know the one, where everyone stops to watch what's about to go down.
"Ma'am!"
Ma'am? Seriously? I'm not fifty.
Rolling my eyes, I picked up my pace, pretending I hadn't heard. I mean, maybe if I got to the table quickly enough, Almond Milk Guy—aka Aiden—would magically make this problem disappear. If he was the one who'd dragged me to this overly posh place, the least he could do was get me out of trouble.
