Annoying Manger

"Nothing, thank you. I'm fine," Crawford said, softly.

"But you kept looking over here, sir. Is there something wrong?" Lucia asked, innocently.

"I'm just admiring the view and your beauty," Crawford answered, his voice low and smooth. 

Lucia felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She blushed and looked down.

"I mean... Thank you, sir. But if you keep doing that, I'm going to be uncomfortable," she said, nervously.

Crawford smiled and leaned forward. He lowered his voice and looked into her eyes.

"Why? Are you afraid of what I might do?" he asked, teasingly.

Lucia and Crawford were talking at his table, oblivious to the angry eyes that were watching them from the office window. The manager of the restaurant, a middle-aged man with a slightly bald head and a pudgy face, was seething with jealousy and rage.

He clenched his fist and snapped his pen in half. Not able to stand it anymore, he stormed out.