"You made a reservation? You must be talking nonsense."
Sienna laughed until her back bent.
She was absolutely certain that Grayson was bluffing right now—putting on airs—but he must have been too embarrassed by their laughter to back down, so he stubbornly insisted on dining here. Only, this loser didn't realize this was a Michelin restaurant—did he even have enough money to pay the bill here? What a joke, not even knowing how pricey a Michelin place is.
Sienna knew it wouldn't be long before Grayson would be horrified by the prices, and she decided to record his shocked expression on her phone.
"Sir, please don't joke around."
The female manager frowned. She couldn't mock Grayson as freely as Sienna, but looking at his clothes and his age, he clearly didn't fit the profile of someone who could afford a Michelin meal. She too believed Sienna's claim—that Grayson was only here to use the restroom.
Beside him, Chloe had also grown anxious. Grayson had already said it—there was no turning back. She frantically rummaged through her wallet to see if she had enough cash. If not, she'd grit her teeth and treat him herself; in any case, she couldn't give Sienna another chance to ridicule Grayson.
"Sir, if you truly reserved a table, may I ask which table number?" The manager, though entirely skeptical, was still running a business, so she suppressed her irritation.
"Table Six." Grayson replied.
"Table Six? Ha ha!"
The moment Grayson said this, Sienna burst into unstoppable laughter. She pointed at him. "This loser doesn't even know how to lie—he says he booked table six! I'm dying laughing!"
Her laughter was justified—wasn't it obvious? She and Sebastian were seated at table six, and their meal wasn't even finished yet. For Grayson to claim he also booked table six was a blatant face‑slap.
"Manager, hurry up and kick out this liar," Sienna said, snuggling into Sebastian. "We're at table six—how could he possibly have the same one?" Her pride soared.
The manager, fed up, shouted, "Security!"
"Wait!"
Grayson pulled out his phone and handed it to her. "I have a text message—see for yourself."
"Oh, that's my old phone, isn't it? You're only fit to use the phone I threw away," Sienna drawled, her eyes brimming with gloating pride.
The manager ignored the drama and took the phone, still half in doubt, but forced to concede.
"This is indeed our restaurant's booking confirmation—table six!"
"Impossible!"
Sienna scoffed. "It must be fake. Table six is ours! Our food is already here—we've been eating for over ten minutes!"
"That's strange. May I see your booking message?" the manager asked Sienna and Sebastian.
Sebastian was quick to respond. He whipped out his own phone and showed his confirmation.
"Well? You see? Mine is also table six!" Sebastian said triumphantly.
Now that both claimed table six, clearly one was lying—and she was one hundred percent sure it was Grayson. She would soon expose his sham.
The manager, glancing at Sebastian's text, suddenly laughed. "You're both correct—you really did book table six. Only, mine is VIP Table Six, and yours is the regular Table Six."
Sienna froze. What? He was actually telling the truth—and it was VIP? Better than theirs?
Realizing her mistake about Grayson and Chloe, the manager's tone shifted a full 180 degrees into utmost respect as she personally led them forward. "My apologies, please follow me."
At the VIP Table Six, the manager's face darkened. "What's going on? This table was reserved by guests—why hasn't it been prepared?"
"It's fine, Manager. The guests arrived but just stepped away to the restroom. Ah, here they are," a waiter said, pointing behind.
In came Sienna and Sebastian. Upon seeing the manager escorting Grayson and Chloe to her table, Sienna suddenly understood—and her expression turned ashen.
"Excuse me," the manager told Sienna, "this is VIP Table Six, reserved under Mr. Cole and his guest. Your table is in the regular section."
Now Sienna finally got it. No wonder this Table Six was so special—only five such spots in the hall, with silver service trays and gold-trimmed mats. It was the VIP area. And now she was being downgraded to regular, while Grayson and Chloe enjoyed the VIP seats. For Sienna, it was humiliating.
"I'm not moving—why should we? It's not our fault!"
Sienna plopped down and folded her arms like a shrew.
The manager frowned, troubled by the fiasco. She asked a nearby waiter, "How did this happen? Didn't you check their booking confirmations when they arrived?"
The waiter, panicked, said, "The VIP booking was under 'Mr. Cole,' noted as one man and one woman. When they arrived, I asked and they said yes—one man, one woman—so I didn't verify the message."
"'Mr. Cole'? You told me 'Mr. Lowe'!"
Sebastian finally realized that in the noise, he had misheard "Cole" as "Lowe." No wonder his \$1,000 booking came with such perks—he'd sat in the wrong seat. Yet he clenched his jaw and refused to admit his error.
The manager, who had seen it all before, now understood the situation. "Very well. Will you two really not move?"
"We won't move. It's just a VIP table—who can't afford it?" Sienna retorted, unwilling to lose face in front of Grayson.
"All right," the manager said. "Let me inform you of the cost. Your deposit only covers the reservation. VIP seating is \$500, silver service fee \$500, live band \$3,000, server gratuity \$200, and the food alone will be around \$10,000, not including drinks. If you insist on sitting here, I'll upgrade you to VIP—but you must prepay these charges."
Sienna's heart churned. Over \$10,000 before even counting wine! But how could she slink away and admit defeat?
"Hmph, no problem—darling, let's sit down!" Sienna smiled at Sebastian. After all, it wasn't her money.
Sebastian, however, was in a cold sweat. He'd budgeted no more than \$2,000 for this meal, and now it was over \$10,000—where could he find that much?
"Dear, let's go," Sebastian whispered, pulling at Sienna.
Sienna, humiliated, refused. Could she really leave in disgrace with Grayson and Chloe watching?
"You don't want to go? Fine, you stay here and eat—I'm leaving."
Sebastian abruptly let go and truly began to walk away, desperate—he simply didn't have the money for a \$10,000 dinner, even if he was a second-generation wealthy heir.
Sienna was stunned. With Sebastian gone, there was no point staying. Her face flushed red as she hung her head and hurriedly followed him out.
"Mr. Cole, our sincere apologies for the trouble."
The manager instructed the staff to clear the table and invited Grayson and Chloe to be seated, and everything began anew.
As for Sienna and Sebastian, they did not leave the Michelin restaurant—they were simply seated at the regular Table Six. Under normal circumstances, Sienna would have been delighted, but now it was different. Watching Grayson and Chloe in the VIP seats, on those luxurious chairs with a waiter attending them and a live band playing—it filled her with envy and bitterness.
Moreover, she wondered how Grayson could afford such an extravagant meal for Chloe. The manager said the food alone was \$10,000—add fine wine and it could easily reach \$20,000.
Sienna couldn't help sneaking a glance at Grayson and Chloe. She saw a waiter carefully pouring red wine for them as if serving royalty, and her heart clenched with resentment.
Chloe, too, was puzzled. "Grayson, where did you get the money? And when did you book this table? We've been together the whole time—I never saw you call to reserve."
"Heh heh, you don't need to know how I booked it," Grayson said, unwilling to reveal that he'd texted Grandpa Jenkins from the taxi to make the reservation, then Grandpa Jenkins arranged the rest.
"As for the money, heh heh, I won the lottery."
He couldn't expose his background, so he told Chloe he won \$100,000 on a lottery ticket.
Chloe pouted. "But we've already spent \$20,000 on this meal. At this rate, you'll blow your winnings in no time! You should have kept it for yourself!"
She truly felt for him. If he were a wealthy heir, it wouldn't matter, but his family was poor—she wanted him to spend on clothes and good food for himself.
"It's okay, Chloe. You've always been so kind to me. I've wanted to treat you to a nice meal but never had the money. Winning the lottery, the first thought I had was to bring you here. No matter what you think, I feel it was worth every penny—because I spent it on someone who cares about me. I don't mind how much I spend." Grayson looked at Chloe sincerely.
He truly meant every word. Chloe had always been a good friend. He didn't expect romance, but he valued her friendship. Unbeknownst to him, his words moved her deeply, and in her heart, feelings for Grayson began to blossom.