CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER.

"Good evening, Daisy. Can we get a bottle of white wine and two plates of spaghetti with chicken?" Harry said.

"Alright, sir." The waitress nodded and left.

Harry shifted his attention to her.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

"Do I look unwell to you?" Purple snapped.

"You look more than unwell,"

She opened her mouth to give a reply, but at that moment, Daisy returned with their order.

"Here's a tip for you," Harry smiled.

"Thank you, Sir," Daisy smiled and collected the money.

"Women are your specialty," Purple smirked, noting the way his sly eyes had devoured Daisy's butts.

He laughed. "There's no woman in my life, except you,"

"Poor me," she said dryly while he uncorked the wine and poured her a glass.

"This restaurant is classic," she could not help noting.

"Yeah. I come here from time to time,"

He cleared his throat then lifted his glass to a toast.

"Here's to my apology,"

"Such a weak toast," she mocked but pressed her glass to his.

"I'm sorry, Purple, for my lack of understanding an