As soon as Veronica sits back down she begins bragging to her friends, "Mr. Howel smiled at me just now. I told you that he gave me a meaningful look before. Perhaps I should take a rose bath and dress up tonight—I think he wants us to spend a night together."
The rest of the women sniff with envy and jealousy.
"Don't flatter yourself!" snaps Lisa, "Mr. Howel can have any woman. All he did was smile at you."
"Fine then," Veronica sniffs, "Let's see if he likes you any better."
"Yes, let's see," Lisa agrees, "Only I won't just toast him—I'll sit down with him."
The women look at Lisa in consternation.
"Are you serious?" gasps, "Come on, Lisa. Mr. Howel probably drank with Veronica out of politeness. Don't piss him off by going over there. After all, Mrs. Howel is still sitting right there."
"Mrs. Howel is nothing but an old ornament," Lisa says dismissively, "If Mr. Howel cared about her, he wouldn't have sent us that bottle. Besides do you know where Mrs. Howel is currently staying?"
"What a silly question!" says one, "Of course, she's staying in the presidential suite with Mr. Howel."
Lisa dramatically raises her goblet to the light, and swirls the clear maroon liquid, "She's staying in one of the staff rooms."
The women are appalled.
"How could Mr. Howel allow his wife to live in a staff room like a common servant?" they think.
Two of the women look at Avery with sympathy. Lisa approaches the Howel's table.
"Mr. Howel," Lisa says in a a voice dripping with s.e.x appeal, "May I join you?"
She casts a defiant glance at Avery, and places her goblet on the table before Evan can respond. Evan snaps his fingers and Robert pulls up a chair for Lisa. Lisa gives him the most beautiful smile.
"Louis XIII is my favorite cognac," she gushes, "Initially it has a fruity taste, but it finishes on a more complex note with hints of honey and myrrh. When you taste a vintage cognac or brandy, you taste not only the cognac itself, but its historical background. Mr. Howel, do you know where the first bottle of Louis XIII appeared?"
Evan smiles with interest.
"On a battlefield of France in 1569," he says.
"Yes, and this particular bottle marks the life's work of four generations of vintners and distillers," Lisa says, "I'm honored to be able to taste it."
Avery cuts a small piece of foie gras and puts in her mouth.
"Lisa is very clever to guess that Evan takes a special interest in wines and cognacs," Avery thinks.
"I like women with high IQs," Evan observes with a meaningful side glance at Avery.
"Really?" Lisa says with a barely concealed smirk, "Mrs. Howel must have an exceptionally high IQ to be your wife."
Avery doesn't want anything to do with their conversation, but Lisa's taunt bothers her. She quietly places her knife and fork on the table and stares directly at Lisa.
"Why does Lisa want to discuss me when she's trying to draw Evan's attention to herself?" Avery thinks, "Of course, I don't expect her to say anything good about me, but she should be smart enough to leave me out of it. Now, Evan, on the other hand, is trying to upset me."
"What are the characteristics of someone with a high IQ?" Evan asks Lisa.
"People with high IQs are intelligent and knowledgeable, of course, but they're also respectful and patient," Lisa says, "They make the people around them feel comfortable and secure, and they never maintain a sense of superiority or aloofness. They should also be good listeners and excellent conversationalists."
"Really?" Evan says without revealing any opinion or emotion.
Everyone always says that Evan won't let any woman near him. Lisa thinks about this as she sits next to him and she feels self-satisfied. Emboldened by Evan's patience in his conversation with her, she decides to flirt a little more.
"I'm curious Mr. Howel, how would you describe a woman with a high IQ?"
Lisa's question is a deliberate test to see if Evan will flirt back; she's hoping he'll answer the question with a flattering or ingratiating answer. She expects him to say, "you're a woman with a high IQ," or maybe if he's more subtle, to describe her. Unfortunately for her, Evan is as powerful and unyielding as a king.
Evan smiles slightly and gives Avery a deep look.
"A woman with a high IQ is a woman who understands her man," he says significantly.
Lisa recovers quickly.
"That's right," she says with admiration, "A man is like a book, and different men are different types of books. A man like you is something of a literary masterpiece."
"Oh?" Evan asks with a slight raise of his eyebrows.
She smiles flirtatiously and pauses a moment before responding.
"Yes, you're fascinating, deep and mysterious," she murmurs.
"Really?"
Evan's mood brightens and he raises his goblet and clinks it against hers in a silent toast.
Lisa looks at the plate where there is a perfectly prepared piece of foie gras.
"Do you mind if I cut it for you?" Lisa asks.
Since Evan doesn't object, she expertly cuts a small piece and raises the fork to feed him. Evan looks at Avery with a mischievous glint in his eyes and lowers his head to eat foie gras Lisa offers him.
The air is filled with emotional tension. The women at the next table simmer with jealousy and hatred and wish they were in Lisa's position, and Lisa glows with confidence and pride. Robert subconsciously gives Avery a look of pity.
"She's like a princess losing both her husband's love and her kingdom," Robert thinks.
Avery frowns slightly and feels herself growing restless. She never expected Evan to be so skilled at seducing women, and she feels an inexplicable displeasure at the sight of him with Lisa. Her subtle expression doesn't escape Evan's gaze. He suddenly locks eyes with her.
"Mrs. Howel, What kind of book do you think I am?" he asks.
Avery puts her water glass down with a heavy thud, and Evan looks at her with a captivating but barbed smile. She takes a deep breath and smiles charmingly.
"I seldom read and have no idea about literature," she says cooly, "But I don't think it matters whether a book is great literature or a vulgar, popular novel—the interest of the reader matters more than the book itself. If a reader is uninterested, even a masterpiece can be dull and useless."
She wipes her mouth with a napkin, stands up and saunters away from the table. Robert stands up and makes a move to follow Avery, but Evan raises his hand to stop him.
"I've heard that there's a big show in the hotel bar tonight," Evan remarks.
Lisa's heart flutters in her chest and her mind races.
"It sounds like Evan is inviting me to spend the night together," she thinks, "Is Evan Howel interested in me? What should I do? Should I play hard to get or agree to accompany him immediately? No, this is Evan Howel—he's a legendary figure—I can't play hard to get with a man like him."
Almost as soon as Evan finishes asking, she gives him a hurried nod. "I'd love to go."
"She can't wait to come with me," Evan thinks with satisfaction.
Evan takes the napkin that Robert hands him, elegantly wipes the corner of his mouth, and stands up, "See you there."
He begins to walk away and then suddenly turns around as if he's just thought of something. He glances at the table of women, "Are they are your friends?"
He doesn't wait for Lisa's answer.
"They can join us tonight. The more the merrier," he says casually.