Wasn't it a curse that no one knew him here? Ewan thought, giving Sandro a backward glance.
The latter shrugged his shoulders; he wasn't coming to help, and he was going to enjoy seeing Ewan plead—something that wasn't peculiar to the billionaire, except where Athena and the kids were involved.
Ewan scoffed lightly and reverted his attention to the woman.
What should he do? He didn't dare grab her arm, even though a light touch, because he was sure the woman would bring down the heavy weight of that spoon on his head. He had just recovered from some brain illness; he wasn't about to go down for a second round!
"Hello… excuse me…" Ewan finally tried again, this time stepping closer to the woman, his voice a mix of pleading and caution.
But the stout woman chose then to pick up her utensils and retreat back to the inn. Ewan took his lower lip in, watching the woman move heavily towards the entrance of the inn. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.
