“Yeah, table six, got it.” Cassie glanced over at table six. “I’ll keep an eye on him, but calm down a little, will you? He’s reading the menu. Let me see if I can deal with the prankster on eight for you.”<br/><br/>And with that, she darted over to table eight to whisper to Steve. “OK, that is not funny. I mean, OK, maybe it’s a little funny, but you scared that absolute shit out of me! And the least you could do, if you’re going to come to the club,<em><strong>where I work</strong></em>is to look normal, and to drop the act. It’s one thing to fake your own death and freak out the girl who was falling in love with you before you started being all creepy and weird. It is another thing entirely to threaten her job, which she was late for, because she was cleaning your fake blood out of her hair.”<br/><br/>Oh but she couldn’t stay angry with him. Even if he was doing this… whatever this is. “So, OK, mister, this is your second chance. You’re going to sit up straight, be your usual charming self, and I’m going to put you down for a caviar omelette with truffles on the side. Does that work for you?<br/><br/>This was an effort to<em>convince</em>Steve not to be an incredible fucking weirdo who threatens Cassie’s job. She is<em>charming</em>, but there’s a real risk that he will<em>just ignore her</em>.