The White Owl

"Do you have a reserved table?" the guard asked us before we could come even closer to the restaurant. I arched an eyebrow, then turned my head to Markus. 

"We wanted to have a look and decide if this place is good enough for us to have a wedding here," Markus said in a calm voice, holding his right hand at my waist and pressing me to himself. 

"Without a reserved table, you can't get inside." Another guard said, but before any of us could react, someone ran out of the territory of the restaurant and slapped two guys at the back of their head so hard that they bent down, stroking their heads. 

"What I have said to you! I'll fire you if we'll miss any other VIP client!" To my surprise or wonder, the one who slapped those two giants was a girl. She looked at the two men, then turned to us with a smile, "I'm sorry about those two! Have I heard you right? You wanna make a wedding?"