The waiter approached the table, looking like a man who had survived many high-society battles but was unprepared for the four-way tension currently radiating from Table 12.
He held his notepad with trembling fingers as he looked at Julian, who was still vibrating with suppressed rage from the "burnt coffee" insult.
"Good evening. May I take your... orders?" the waiter whispered.
"Daisy will go first," Arthur said gently, patting Daisy's hand. "She needs to keep her strength up."
Daisy looked at the menu as if it were written in ancient, cursed runes. "I'll have the organic, steamed rainwater... oh, wait, they don't have that. I suppose I'll have the poached egg. But please," she looked up at the waiter with eyes brimming with tears, "make sure the egg didn't suffer. And no salt. Salt is so... aggressive."
The waiter blinked. "An unseasoned, 'happy' egg. Understood. And for the gentleman?"
"The steak," Julian snapped, his eyes never leaving Clara. "Blue. As raw as possible. And a bottle of your most expensive Cabernet. Bring it now."
"Trying to prove you're an apex predator, Julian?" Clara asked, tapping her chin with her menu. "Careful. If it's too raw, it might actually have more personality than you do."
Julian's jaw tightened. "At least I'm not pretending to have an appetite for 'business' while staring at my best friend's bank account."
"Oh, hush," Clara turned to the waiter with a dazzling, effortless smile. "I'll have the *Confit de Canard*. And make sure the skin is extra crispy—I want to hear it crunch like Julian's ego. Also, a side of truffle fries. Unlike some people at this table, I actually believe in flavor."
Arthur beamed. "That sounds delicious, Seraphina! I'll have the same. And let's get a bottle of champagne to celebrate the... uh... merger talks!"
Julian's fork clattered against the plate. "There is no merger, Arthur! She's using you to get a reaction out of me!"
"Julian, really," Clara sighed, leaning back.
"The world doesn't revolve around your brooding. Arthur and I are discussing the future. You and Daisy are discussing... what was it? The emotional state of a chicken? Focus on your 'White Lotus,' darling. She's currently looking at the butter knife with a look of profound existential dread."
"I just..." Daisy whimpered, staring at the silver knife. "It's so shiny. It reminds me of the coldness of the world. Arthur, do you think the butter is lonely?"
Arthur immediately dove back into 'Protector Mode.'
"No, no, Daisy! The butter has... us! Look, I'll put a little bit on your unseasoned bread. It'll be a party!"
Clara caught Julian's eye and mouthed the word:
"Cupid."
Julian looked like he wanted to flip the table. He leaned in, his voice a low hiss that only Clara could hear.
"You think you're so clever, don't you? Pushing me toward her so you can clear the path to Arthur. But I know you, Seraphina. You can't stand being ignored. You'll be back to crying at my door by midnight."
"Julian," Clara whispered back, her eyes cold and amused. "The only reason I'd be at your door at midnight is if I accidentally dropped my trash in your hallway. Now, eat your raw meat. You're getting cranky, and it's ruining the 'Golden Boy's' vibe."
The waiter returned with the wine, pouring Julian's Cabernet with a shaky hand.
"To the 'Upgrade'!" Clara toasted, raising her glass toward a confused but happy Arthur.
Julian didn't toast.
He just drank the entire glass of red wine in one go, staring at Clara as if he were trying to find the "villainess" he used to know—and feeling a terrifying pang of annoyance that she wasn't there anymore.