Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 138

“Two guys eating alone is pretty boring,” Thomas said with a charming smile. “If you ladies don’t mind, please join us. It’s on Mr. Bennett Thompson’s tab, anyway.”

“You’re too kind. In that case, we’d be delighted,” Rachel said, sliding into the seat next to Thomas without a second thought and pulling Yvonne down beside her.

Sandra, likely seeing the value in networking with Thomas, offered a few polite refusals before sitting down with Marina. The seating arrangement placed Rachel next to Thomas, Yvonne between Rachel and Bennett, and Sandra and Marina across from them.

Rachel was a chatterbox, Thomas was an excellent conversationalist, and Sandra could hold her own on any topic. The table quickly came alive with conversation.

Yvonne remained silent, her gaze involuntarily drifting to the man beside her. He picked up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, his movements graceful as he lit one. He was more mature now than he had been five years ago, more reserved and inscrutable. As the faint smoke curled around him, she felt as if she couldn’t see him clearly anymore.

“Ms. Janice is so strict! She even managed to tame Daisy. Marina and Doris have had a tough time too. But Yvonne is the only one she can’t find fault with. Her posture is as straight as a pine tree, and her marching is so precise, you’d think she’d been a soldier before,” Rachel chattered on.

“Is that so?” Thomas asked, his smiling eyes now studying Yvonne with new interest.

Yvonne’s fingers tightened around her water glass, but her expression remained serene. “I’ve had military training before in school.”

The hallway to the restrooms was empty. As she rounded a corner, she saw a tall figure leaning against a window, speaking on the phone. His expression was surprisingly gentle. As if sensing her presence, Bennett looked up and met her gaze. His dark eyes were as deep and calm as a still lake. He held her gaze for only a second before looking away.

Yvonne also broke contact and continued into the restroom. The oil stain was stubborn. With no dish soap available, she had to make do with hand soap and the hand dryer. After a while, she finally managed to get most of it out and returned to the table.

When she sat down, the seat next to her was empty. She didn’t ask where he had gone. She just picked up her utensils and ate in silence, the buzz of conversation fading into the background.