"You're such an idiot, Darko. Seriously," Emily grumbles.
She clutches the shopping bag with the gorgeous dark-blue dress inside protectively under her arm.
Our fingers are intertwined as we walk hand in hand down Orchard Street, looking for a restaurant where we can have lunch.
"...And don't you dare offer to pay for lunch, got it? I swear I'll leave you sitting at the table by yourself and walk out!"
"Oh, come on, why do you have to make everything so complicated? Since the dawn of time, when a guy takes a girl somewhere, he pays."
"I don't know what kind of freeloaders you've been dealing with until now, but I'm not like that!"
"Yeah, yeah, fine..."
You try to be nice, and she gets mad anyway.
What a temper...
All of a sudden, Emily stops dead in her tracks and points at a steakhouse.
"There! That place looks perfect for lunch!"
Cordesol Meat, huh?
