Ethan
"You're lying!" she stomped her tiny sneaker covered foot. "He dressed up as a waiter, Ethan," she pointed to Demyan, "Then he came over to the table to drop off our food then said 'Bon appetit, I hope you enjoy dinner with my wife! I hope you choke.' he splashed Warren's wine on his face, Ethan. A savage!"
I let out a gasp and covered my mouth with my hand as I tried to hide my laugh. Everyone knew the sassy side of Demyan and to think after all these years nothing about him had changed.
"In my defence I thought you were upgrading from me. You never told me it was an artist you were trying to recruit for the company," Demyan rubbed his forehead.
"No, that's because you want to micro-manage every single second of my life," she poked at his chest like a small angry chihuahua, "You made me feel like I was some loose woman who was just eager to hop onto the next man after her divorce. Why didn't you just call me and ask instead of making your own little conclusions?"
