Ean studied Ramona, her tense posture, her strident voice, her lack of eye contact with the server. Had she been this arrogant in high school?
“You don’t sound certain.” Ramona’s eyes remained glued to the menu.
Megan turned to her cousin. “Ramona.”
“What?” Ramona snapped the word. “Why are you always whispering my name? That’s so annoying.”
“Stop it. You’re making a scene.” Megan spoke through clenched teeth.
Ramona rolled her eyes, then addressed their server. “Are you certain the salmon is fresh—”
Ean interrupted the exchange. “Ramona, she answered your question.”
The server’s pen began to shake above the notepad. “We get all of our seafood fresh, ma’am.”
“Stop calling me ‘ma’am.’”
The young woman’s eyes grew large. “Yes, m . . . yes.”
Quincy’s sigh was long and loud. “Mona, do you want the fish or not? If you want it, for the love of God, order it or I’ll order something for you.”
Ean sat back in his chair. No one had ever spoken to Ramona that way in her life. Of that, he was certain. Even
Megan did a slow blink at Quincy’s outburst. He prepared himself for the fireworks.
Ramona erupted like Vesuvius. “My name isn’t ‘Mona.’ Don’t—”
“People are starving in Third World countries while—”
“—call me that!”
“—you cross-examine our server.”
“And you wouldn’t dare order my meal!”
Quincy narrowed his gaze. “Test me.”
Ean glanced at the nearby tables. People didn’t seem to realize he was there any longer. All eyes were on Ramona and Quincy. Considering the circumstances, that wasn’t an improvement. Apparently, Megan felt the same. Her cheeks were bright red and she stared at her glass of iced tea as though it could transport her away.
Ramona shoved her menu toward the server in a dismissive gesture, but saved her glare for Quincy. “Get me the salmon. And it had better be fresh.”
“Yes, m . . . yes.” The young woman took Ramona’s menu, then fled the scene.
Ean was certain the outburst would be all over Trinity Falls before he, Quincy, Megan and Ramona left the restaurant.
Megan sat up in her seat and rubbed a hand over her hair. “Now that we have everyone’s attention, perhaps we can try to act as though we’ve eaten in formal restaurants before.”
Ramona expelled an affronted gasp. “This wasn’t my fault.”
“Nothing ever is.” Quincy turned to Ean before Ramona could respond. “So you’re here to stay. And what are you going to do?”
Ean took a drink of his iced tea. “Find a job.”
He didn’t know what bizarre phenomenon had changed his best friend into his sworn enemy. But he was in danger of losing his appetite if Quincy and Ramona continued to act out their hostility.
“What do you want to do?”
In response to Megan’s question, Ean shrugged. “For now, I just want a job. There are several companies nearby. I’ll apply for work in their legal departments.”