The Best Friend's Contract

Chapter 63



"Aidan Gabriel Ashton, twenty-six year old CEO of Empire, didn't know how to ride a bicycle as he fell learning it for the first time with his wife back in Dallas, Texas. Sounds gold," He continues to laugh, eyes squinting in tears of joy. "Laugh all you want, man."

He grins, "That's what I'm doing!"

Sam appears beside us with a notepad in his hand, "Alright, make I take your order?" He asks, glancing at Kenna for a few times with a smile plastered on his face while Dimitri busies himself by going through the menus without being bothered by anything else around him.

As for me, I can't help but eye her-wanting to see if she's actually looking back at him and return the smile. Unfortunately for me, she can't stop smiling back at him.

Honestly, Sam has the looks. He's probably charming and he's nice; the perks of him trying to swoon Kenna off her feet are high. It appears that they were pretty close enough... knowing her to always come here, too. Perhaps, it's not just because of the delicious pastries.NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Maybe, it's just me... hallucinating or being fairly uncomfortable but Kenna seems to be focusing onto the menu without glancing back at him. It eases me a little bit but I can't seem to find why I was off.

"I'd like a regular coffee on the go," Dimitri says after closing the menu.

"What about you, Kenna? Still dreading on whether you want to order your favourite sandwiches or try something new?" He turns to smile at her, again as she chuckles.

"Hard decision," She mutters before looking up at me, "What are you ordering?"

I blink a few times, "Just... bread,"

The three of them turn to look at me, confused but Dimitri seems to have caught the look on my face as he smirks. "Just bread? What kind of bread? We have a lot to choose from," Sam replies.

"The best you got," I answer before unlocking my phone, not liking the fact that Kenna seems comfortable being around him-I don't know if I'm being tested with the value of our friendship or if this is something more than that but I'm left scrolling over the same email for the past couple of minutes as they continue on their conversation.

"Yeah, I was in Dallas for the past week." She replies with a smile, "Can't really take my mind off those delicious pastries," She adds.

"You can't really stay away from Café Lalo," He grins at her, writing down our orders on his notepad while I clench my jaw-controlling my breaths.

I clear my throat, "Yeah... am I supposed to place those orders myself? I'm a bit famished," I say as I look up at him, seeing him nodding his head before smiling at Kenna-making his way towards the counter, placing our order.

"Someone's cranky," Dimitri mutters.

"He's supposed to do his job and tend to other customers than just simply starting an unneeded conversation. Besides, I have a lot of work to settle at the office and he was just wasting my time." I reply without looking at Kenna, knowing that she might sense something being wrong. "He was just being nice," She cuts in.

"Too nice," I respond before locking my phone and completely ignoring them both.

As soon as our food came, I am left drinking onto my cup of hot coffee, faster than I intend and left trying to bear with the burning sensation in my mouth. "Fuck, that's hot." I hiss.

"Are you alright?" Kenna asks.

"Fine-eat faster, I need to be at the office." I immediately chew onto my chicken slice sandwich, catching both of my best friends' attention as they both look up at me.

Just as she takes a bite of her food, I immediately call for the waitress nearby. "Bill, please." I say and she nods immediately, walking towards the counter; leaving me looking at a surprised Kenna and a confused Dimitri.

"I just started—" Kenna is being cut off by the sound of my phone ringing, making me place a fifty dollar bill; enough to cover up the bill and even give the waitress a large tip before standing up, picking up the call. "Yes, Aidan speaking." I say towards the other line as I walk outside, leaving them both as where they are.

--

"What's wrong with you?" Kenna asks as she steps outside of the café with Dimitri trailing behind her, shoving both of his hands in his slacks' pockets.

I frown, "What do you mean?"

"You gave me the cold shoulder

when Sam came to take our order, you started being a little bit rude just because he was talking to me and you weren't even the slightest enjoying your breakfast when you ate as if you were in a marathon. That's what I mean," She replies as she continues to look into my eyes, leaving me sighing.

"I don't like it," I roll my eyes, looking away.

"Don't like what? The food? You could've ordered something else!" She exclaims.

"No! I don't like the way he looked at you or talked to you. I simply don't like him being there to take our order, get it?" My reply surprised her a little bit as she blinks a few times, trying to reassure what she heard while I breathe out. "Now, I'm leaving."

"You're not leaving!" She turns to look at me as I see Gerald pulling over and Flynn quickly running to open the door for me his eyes widening at my arm but not bothered to ask as he sees the heated conversation between Kenna and I. "Watch me," I reply before stepping inside the car, glancing one last time at Kenna who has a frustrated look plastered on her face while Dimitri stands beside, not wanting to take part of the conversation but walks to comfort her.

I look up at the rear-view mirror to see Gerald looking at me, "Straight to the office, sir?" He asks, his voice low and hinted with slight fear.

"Yes," I nod.

Just like that, we're already on the road, making me lean back on my seat-trying to clear my head from unwanted things. My eyes wander to Flynn who is currently sitting still on his seat.

"Anything happened while I was gone?" I ask, causing him to shake his head.

"No, Mr. Ashton. Everything was fine and been handled well," He replies. "May I ask about your arm, Mr. Ashton? Your condition concerns me," He asks, slowly incase I'm left triggered by his question but I'm not; in fact, I'm much relieved that he asked. "I fell," I answer, not wanting to dread on it.

He clears his throat, "You will

recover well, Mr. Ashton but for the mean time, I will help you as much as I can-knowing that you can't possibly write with your casted arm. I can also remind you when it's time to take your vitamins and

prescriptions for a faster recovery. Not just that, I can forward all of the meetings for today to tomorrow if you want me to, they can simply understand if I explain." He says.


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