Ben’s smile stayed firmly in place. Which was a way better reaction than backing away from her in horror. “Knowing what lies ahead might be a scary prospect. I think I’d prefer my future to stay vague. So, is that what people want to see? What’s going to happen to them?”
Eden nodded. “Mostly. They want to know if they’re going to get a job they’re after. Or if their love lives are going to pick up.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you could tell me how my love life is going to go? And if there might be a beautiful but troublemaking psychic in it?”
“Pardon me while I gag,” Darrak said.
Her smile faded. What happened to his offer of helping her look good in front of Ben?
“I think you should tone it down a bit,” her unhelpful inner demon said. “Play hard to get for a bit before you offer up any lap dances, okay?”
She gritted her teeth. That was an overreaction if ever she’d heard one. What was his problem?
The waiter finally came over after keeping them waiting for twenty minutes. He was a small, snooty-looking man with a tiny moustache, who wore a tuxedo with a white tie. He had a crisp white cloth draped over his arm.
“Buena sera. Welcome to Bella Bisque. I am your server, Antonio. Are you finding your wine satisfactory?”
Eden nodded. “Yes, absolutely.”
He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Ben.
“Oh,” Ben said. “Yes, it’s fine.”
“I will tell you the specials now.” He launched into a one-minute dissertation about all the creamy, high-calorie features.
“The salmon sounds delicious.” Eden’s stomach was growling and not just because of the demonic presence inside of her. She was starving. “Do you think I can get that with rice instead of pasta?”
Antonio wasn’t looking at her. “It is the Bella Bisque tradition for the man at the table to make the dinner selections.”
She blinked with surprise.
“I knew the waiters here were snotty,” Darrak growled, “but this guy is a serious asshole. Kick him in the shins, Eden. Do it.”
Kick him? “Not going to happen,” she said aloud, then clamped a hand over her mouth.
“No, you’re absolutely right, Eden.” Ben looked at her, then at the waiter. “That’s a bit of an outdated way of dealing with customers, don’t you think?”
“Outdated?” Darrak said. “That’s all he’s going to say? If I had a body right now I’d punch him right in the face. Both of them.”
She covered her mouth with her napkin. “Relax. It doesn’t matter.”
Ben frowned. “It does matter, Eden. I don’t feel good about taking you to a place where you’re treated like this.”
The waiter shrugged with disinterest. “I meant no disrespect.”
Ben looked at him. “Then we don’t have a problem, do we?”
“No, sir.” The waiter turned to Eden with a sour look on his face. “What can I get for the lady?”
She cleared her throat, stifling an urge to do as Darrak suggested and kick the condescending creep. “I still want the salmon. And I’d like to exchange the pasta with rice, if possible, like I just said.”
The waiter looked at Ben again. “Please let your lady friend know that no substitutions are allowed at Bella Bisque.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ben said with annoyance.
The waiter shrugged again. “It conflicts with the chef’s vision for the cuisine.”
Ben’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care what it conflicts with. Tell her that yourself.” He looked at Eden. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“As am I, sir,” the waiter said. “But I can’t help my desire for proper tradition.”
Ben touched Eden’s hand. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
She didn’t want to give the waiter the pleasure of knowing he’d annoyed her enough to leave. It was the principle of the thing. “No, it’s fine. Really.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded, and then looked at the food-toting Hitler. “Forget the substitution, then,” Eden said grudgingly.
“As you wish,” the waiter said with a thin, victorious smile.
“That smarmy son of a bitch,” Darrak snarled.
She felt a growing surge of antagonism inside of her, which was odd since she wasn’t outwardly angry with the mustached jerk, just annoyed. But the very next moment, as the waiter walked past, after taking Ben’s order, her leg shot out and he tripped, almost crashing to the floor before righting himself with a grunt. He looked confused at what he’d tripped on and didn’t seem to suspect it was her leg.
She hadn’t extended it on her own.
What the hell?
“Okay, that was really cool,” Darrak said. “I didn’t know I could do that. But if I get all riled up enough I guess I can have some control over your body. What do you think about that?”
She didn’t think much of it, actually. She pressed her lips together and forced a smile as she looked at Ben. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed it was her leg that did the damage.
Ben looked a bit stricken. “You’re sure you don’t want to leave?”
Eden shook her head. “We’ll extract our revenge when it comes time to tip him.”
He nodded in agreement. “Vengeance is sweet.”
“But promise me we won’t come back here next time.”
The grin returned to his face. “Next time?”
“Sure.” She smiled, although it was forced. She didn’t like the idea that Darrak had any kind of control over her bodily functions. The thought made her tense up. Darrak must have felt it, too.
“Just relax,” the demon told her. “I’m not going to make you go all Linda Blair. I wouldn’t want to strain that pretty neck of yours by twisting it around backward.”