Chapter Text
“Y’know, you’re gonna get a cavity if you don’t tone it down.” Olivia sipped her coffee and scrolled through god knows what social media on her phone, then looked up at Gabriel with a single raised eyebrow— her long, purple nails clicked against the screen.
“Fuck you.”
“No, thanks. I have a girlfriend to do that for me.”
Gabriel made a face like he’d eaten something sour, and Olivia cackled, eyes creasing slightly at the corners as she grinned. Instead of dignifying her joke with a proper response, though, he concentrated on making his way through whatever the fuck kind of cherry thing he’d been sweet-talked into buying— some French word that he couldn’t pronounce. Of course, he could try, but he knew that if he butchered it Amélie would immediately drop from the ceiling and assassinate him on the spot.
“...You hate cherries.”
“I know.”
Olivia stared at him, confusion only subsiding when she followed his gaze to a blonde employee with a pretty smile and good shoulders. “Oh. Ooohhhh.”
“Olivia...”
“So,” she started, “I didn’t think you’d be into white boys.”
”Olivia.”
“Come on...” She shrugged and gave a dramatic, swooping gesture to the rest of the world. “All these fish in the sea, and you pick the guy built like a brick shithouse? ¡Órale!”
“I hate you.” Gabriel pressed his face into one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Olivia wiggled her eyebrows, and Gabe’s phone buzzed— she’d texted him a few photos, which he didn’t care to open. “What, pray fucking tell, is that?”
“Receipts.”
“Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise, then uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to wave her own phone in front of his face. “Screenshots? Look— you see, his name is John Morrison... he did military service, like you, and his parents have owned this place for—”
“Jesus, Olivia! I don’t need you stalking everyone I meet!”
“You seemed pretty appreciative when my careful research kept you from going through with that horrible restaurant date. Remember, the one with the guy with the tattoo whose truck looked like it’d just come off the set of—”
“That was one time.” Gabriel looked like he wanted to scream, but knew that it was... less than advisable.
“Uh-huh...” Olivia heaved a sigh and picked up her coffee, then got to her feet. “So, are you going to talk to him, or should I play wingman again?”