Novel & Cerita Bistro 313

But I stood by and watched my best friend kill it with the crowd, signing his cookbooks, taking photos with fans, and peddling five thousand units of that ridiculous kit, before we all succumbed to the after-party at Pete's restaurant, Mikasa, over Bryant Park, a rooftop eatery he launched last year in honor of his wife, who yearned—sit down for this—fish fingers. The bistro itself was a more contemporary, but not sleek, environment than La Vie en Rogue's, with cracked turquoise marble as flooring, reduced lighting, and a entire semitransparent wall serving as an aquarium home to some of the world's most colorful, most exotic fish. Dark, sexy, moody.

Just because they'd had that brief exchange at the gas station didn't mean they were friends or anything. Maxwell climbed into the McLaren and started the engine. The familiar roar filled the parking garage. He pulled out onto the street and merged into midday traffic, following the GPS directions to Bistro Laurent. --- Thirty minutes later, Maxwell parked the McLaren outside a charming restaurant tucked between two taller buildings downtown. Bistro Laurent looked exactly as Sophia had described it: low-key despite the elegant French name. The exterior was understated, with large windows showing a cozy interior of white tablecloths and soft lighting.

Charlotte The bistro Mom suggested is one of those trendy places with exposed brick walls, Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and a menu full of words like "artisanal" and "locally sourced." I arrive fifteen minutes early because I hate being late, and also because sitting at home in Rhys's apartment was making me stir-crazy. Every shadow looked like someone watching. Every car that drove by could be Kevin's hired PI. I need to get out of my own head. The hostess seats me at a table near the window where I can see the street. Mom texted that she's running late traffic on the bridge, so I tell the server I'll wait to order.

I am a bit surprised by that act of his; it doesn’t seem like it. The waitress approaches us in no time and with a warm smile she says, "Good day, welcome to Rare Bistro, it’s an honor to have you, Lycan Austin and Queen Bella." She sets two glasses of water on the table and hands us the menus. "Please what would you like to order?" I quickly glance at the menu and my eyes lock on a mouthwatering dish. "I will have the creamy squash and hazelnut fettuccine with sautéed mushrooms," I said.

To me, it just looked like a red-and-black blur. “Is that what you mean?” Atlas asked. “Yeah,” Leo replied with a nod. “Is that a billboard? Outside the back window?” Rowan leaned closer, squinting at the image. “It says… Resorito’s. I think it’s a restaurant billboard.” Leo pointed at him. “Look up the name.” I laced my fingers together anxiously while Rowan searched on his phone. Seconds later, his face lit up with a huge grin. “Resorito’s Restaurant. There’s only one in the entire country, from what I can see.”

he answered. "Why?" "It affords the story a little twist." "Why are you going along with it?" She quizzed. Just then, the waiter approached the table. The waiter was a tall, slender man. "Good evening, fine lady and gentleman. Welcome to Bistro Bliss. My name is Mac, and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Is everything to your liking so far?" He asked with a pleasant smile on his face. Jaxon ogled her from across. "Yes, we are fine. We are just deciding on what to order."

Harmony city on the other hand is not going to make you feel as if you are safe, the danger and corruption is in the air you breathe, the food you eat and the water you drink and it does not take long before you learn that you are in a dangerous place. Mickey pulled the car to a stop in front of a restaurant with a giant dragon sign at the entrance, The Red Dragon Restaurant was boldly engraved beside the sign. On our way in, two angry looking chinese men who were dressed in black suits stopped us at the door. "What business do you have here, Micky? And who is this black twat?"one of the men referred to Micky in a familiar manner. "This is my new boss, Mr. Badur, and we are here to see your

, he said, and extended his long hand to hold my chin. Hearing his response, my face immediately lit up in a warm yet seductive smile. The van started off and after a while, we arrived at a small, decent-looking bistro called BnB. This was our usual spot for a classy meal. And though I wanted a hotpot, Mason would nag me till the world came for judgment. The van parked, and we headed inside. We were met by the usual classy yet casual exterior of the restaurant. Mason loved extravagance. The place made me feel comfortable too — partially, because it was here with me.

Soon after, they came into a delicate tiny bistro not far from the farmhouse. The street was rather quiet because there were few people at this time of day, but the scenery was lovely and the atmosphere was pleasant. They walked in and sat down. The owners were a couple in their thirties. They looked quite young with a six-year-old son. They were also from Peru but moved here after falling in love with the place. They made a living by running a bistro. The owner, Hannah Morris, was a delightful person who insisted that they just call her Hannah.

“See? Perfect. You look fresh and polite, exactly what my cousin wants to see.” Despite the nerves churning in my stomach, her confidence made me smile. “Thank you… for everything.” She waved me off. “No need to thank me until you get hired. Then you can buy me milk tea.” We laughed together, a small sound that felt like the first genuine piece of joy. The resto bar was tucked on a busy street corner, its sign painted in bold red letters that read La Luna Bistro. Even from outside, I could smell garlic and herbs, the faint buzz of chatter and clinking dishes seeping through the doors.