Chapter 504

I call for the bill and the waiter that had tried to convince Malia to get some wine hurries over. His cheeks are already the colour of beetroot. He could barely look us in the eye. Malia presses her lips into a thin line but I see her shoulders jigging up and down as she tries not to laugh.

As we walk to the car, Malia links her arm with mine, almost pestering me like a small child, asking me whe