If The Tables Were Turned Novels & Stories

The man's face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly backed away, retreating to the back of the crowd. "Pregnant women are already prone to complications. If any of you are willing to take responsibility for her, I'll arrange a table right now," I said, scanning the room. When I met their eyes, they quickly looked away. I sneered internally. Just moments ago, they were all standing on their moral high ground. But as soon as they were asked to take responsibility, none of them dared to speak up. Just when I thought I had managed to avoid Zoey's miscarriage in my restaurant, Laurence suddenly shoved me.

I peeped through the door to discover that Parrish and – Dahlia were actually seated at table six and I groaned internally. “Could you perhaps take table six and I’ll handle three and four in exchange?” I asked hopefully and she only laughed. “No can do. Both tables have eligible looking bachelors and I’m in a hot search so honey you’re going to handle the couple. Oh Lord!

But for what it was worth—I hoped tonight would be the turning point. Because if it wasn’t… It would be the end.

LUCAS "WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!" I roared, sweeping my arm across the table and sending everything crashing to the ground… glasses, plates, bottles, papers… all of it. Shattering, splintering. I grabbed the edge of the table, slamming it again, my chest heaving like I couldn't fucking breathe. How? How the fuck did this happen? We were ready. We had the numbers. We had the fucking plan. And still... Dead.

he almost growled out making me shudder in fear. "You lied to me." I whispered out not believing how suddenly tables turned upside down.

He was looking at me looking at the room. I felt this without turning. Then I turned. He was watching me with the expression he wore when something was happening that he was giving its full space. "Our table," I said. He offered me his arm. We walked in. --- The table by the window was ours. Reserved. Our name on the small card that restaurants used to hold tables for people they were expecting. I sat in my chair. The same chair. The city outside the window. The same view. I looked at it.

Malcolm asked. "Everyone, both male and female, will be required to fight if push comes to shove, but our warriors will be the first line of defense." I pressed a button under my table, and the table flipped. All the books were gone in a flash, and they were replaced with a strategy table, complete with a huge map of our pack and its surroundings and little figurines that represented different things.

Timmy said. "Are you done here? If you are, then leave," I calmly said. Jessica's face became pale, then flushed red. "You can't get back at me like this just because I turned you down! Business is business, and you can't force love! I'm never going to throw myself at you just to get some investment funding! I hope you can tell the difference and just sign!" "Nice speech! Really nice!" I said as I clapped slowly. I honestly did not know just how shameless Jessica could be.

I said coldly. Tears streamed down his face. He kept begging, "I'm dying of regret. I live in hell every day. Give me another chance. I'll make it up to you. I didn't marry Sarah. Come back and remarry me, okay?" He lunged toward me. Garth grabbed his wrist, twisted the knife away, and tossed it. "What's your problem? Leave before I call 911," Garth yelled, shielding me. ... Jake backed off but did not quit.

"Were you?" Mr. Dallas continued, "Julia?" "Alex? " Julia laid the pressure on me. What was Julia's deal and why did she seem so immersed in a battle that wasn't hers in the first place? "Hmm, " Mr. Dallas adjusted for comfort, "There's something we call 'The Last Card', in cases like this, where the situation seems unclear, we refrain from any form of action until our 'suspect' here isn't proven otherwise. Then we can take action. We can flip the last card. "