“It’s better not to tell, El. You don’t need to say who gave you the wedding invitation file on Sylvia,” Sarah advised gently.

I had called Sarah on purpose to talk about the Sylvia situation. Ever since yesterday, after I managed to get information about Sylvia from David, I hadn’t been able to calm down. The unease was growing, especially because of David’s request—something I felt forced to agree to.

Sarah was the only person I could talk to about it. Even though Sebastian had made it *very* clear that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, I needed someone to listen—someone who could help ease my anxiety and maybe give me a little perspective.

After letting it all out, I felt somewhat relieved. Sarah had a point—I didn’t have to explain how I got the file. Since I’d already lied to Sebastian, Sarah warned that one lie would only lead to another. Better to keep quiet than weave a web I couldn’t untangle later.

---

Today, I had no choice but to meet David again. He wanted his *reward* for helping me—and apparently, it had to be paid today. A lunch date, as promised.

The GPS on my phone showed the route to the restaurant he had picked. I didn’t want to go, but a promise is a promise. Eventually, my car arrived at the location: a rustic-style bistro nestled on the edge of an ivy-covered street, complete with wooden beams, warm yellow lights, and hanging flower baskets—a place that looked like it came straight out of a small European town.

After struggling a bit to find a parking spot, I finally pulled into an empty space at the far end of the lot. I took a deep breath before stepping out of the car.

Inside, the place was buzzing with the lunch crowd. People in coats and scarves stood in lines for buffet-style service, which oddly reminded me of a wedding reception setup.

From across the room, I spotted David waving at me enthusiastically.

Ugh. My steps were stiff and reluctant, every footfall screaming *regret*. I paused for a second, genuinely tempted to turn back and bail. But no. Too late. I was already here, and he’d definitely seen me. No backing out now.

“Not too hard to find the place, huh?” David greeted with a grin.

I gave him a polite nod and a tight-lipped smile. “No, it was fine.”

“Mind if I ordered the food already? Figured it’d save time so we can eat right away.”

“That’s fine,” I replied quietly.

“You mad at me?” he asked with a teasing tilt of his head. “Your voice sounds like someone just stole your puppy.”

I ignored him, pretending to check my phone. “You’re imagining things.”

David chuckled. “Come on, El. I know you’re only here because you didn’t want to break your promise. But could you at least try not to *look* like you’d rather be anywhere else?”

I put my phone down and looked him straight in the eye. “What do you want me to say? Yes, I’m not thrilled to be here. But I keep my promises. That’s the kind of person I am.” I smiled thinly. “So yeah. I showed up. Mission accomplished.”

He laughed. “You do realize your lips are totally giving you away right now.”

“What does that even mean?” I raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“I mean, look at your pout—it’s sticking out like three centimeters. You could balance a spoon on that thing.”

He slid an empty plate toward me. “Here, take your plate. Food’s coming soon.”

I snatched the plate and set it in front of me without a word.

“I gotta ask—why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. Big difference.”

“Why, though?” he pushed. “What did I ever do to you?”

I sighed and picked up a fork. “You really want to know? Fine. I don’t like guys who mess around with girls’ feelings. And you? You’re a walking red flag with a playlist of exes.”

David blinked at me, then burst out laughing. “That’s why you don’t like me? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I snapped. “Can we just eat already? The waiter’s coming.”

He was still chuckling as the waiter approached, carrying a tray of food. I quickly composed myself, switching from annoyed to *graceful* in record time.

“You really have a talent for changing expressions fast,” David whispered as the waiter set our plates on the table.

I kicked him gently under the table, hoping to shut him up.

“Hey!” he whispered again, rubbing his shin. “You’re violent *and* cute. Dangerous combo.”

I rolled my eyes. “Keep talking and I’ll order you a plate of raw onions for dessert.”

David leaned in with a grin. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

He laughed again, that annoyingly infectious laugh that somehow made the air around us feel just a little less tense.

Certainly! Here's a continuation of that scene where David starts a casual yet curious conversation, subtly trying to dig into how you know Sylvia—keeping the tone both a little awkward and amusing, set against the charming European-style restaurant vibe.

David leaned back slightly in his chair, the warm light from the ornate chandelier casting a soft glow across his features. He took a sip of his iced tea before looking up at me, his expression shifting from playful to quietly inquisitive.

“So… El,” he started, swirling the glass in his hand like he was about to share a big secret. “Can I ask you something… and you promise you won’t bite my head off?”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Depends. What are you about to ask?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Nothing too serious. I’m just curious. How exactly do you know Sylvia?”

I nearly choked on my tea.

“W-What?” I wiped my mouth quickly with the napkin, trying to act casual. “Why would you ask that out of nowhere?”

David chuckled, amused by my reaction. “Come on, don’t give me that look. I mean, I gave you the file because you asked for it. But I always wondered… you’re clearly not some gossip columnist or investigator… so what’s your connection to her?”

I took a deep breath, stalling by cutting my grilled chicken into tiny pieces. “Does it really matter?”

David leaned in a little, his tone teasing but his eyes sharp. “To me? Not really. But hey, a guy’s allowed to be curious, right?”

I met his gaze, then looked away, pretending to admire the vintage wall decor—a framed map of old Vienna, probably hung just for aesthetic. “Let’s just say… someone I care about has a history with her. And I needed to know more. That’s all.”

David hummed thoughtfully. “Mysterious as ever.”

He popped a piece of bread into his mouth, then added, “You know, I wasn’t planning to hand over that file so easily, but I kinda liked the way you bargained.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Liked how I bargained? I basically begged.”

“Exactly. Very persuasive. You even promised me lunch. I mean, how could I say no to that?”

I rolled my eyes. “So easily entertained, aren't you?”

He grinned again, his dimples appearing—annoyingly charming. “Only by certain people.”

I jabbed my fork in his direction. “Don’t start with that flirty nonsense again.”

“I’m not flirting. I’m just…” He paused dramatically, then pointed to himself. “...naturally delightful.”

I snorted. “More like naturally annoying.”

We both chuckled, and for a moment, the tension eased into something more tolerable—even comfortable.

But deep down, I knew this was dangerous ground. The more David poked around, the closer he might get to truths I couldn’t afford to explain. Not now. Not ever.

So I smiled sweetly and changed the topic.

“So, David… ever thought of switching careers? I hear stand-up comedy pays well.”

He raised his glass and clinked it gently against mine.

“If I ever do, you’re definitely going to be my first material.”

---