Darkly bewildered, Norma said, "Do you care to tell me why your stink, dirty ass is at my damn table, bitch. Are you crazy?" She glared at her husband. "Have you lost your mind, Francisco...?"

While Francisco swallowed his anger, resisting the urge to snatch her head from her neck, Norma guardedly looked around, noting her surroundings.

Lynn wanted to run out of the room. Clearly embarrassed, she kept her head held high, refusing to apologize for who she was or how she looked.

Once she assessed the familiar moneyed patrons, Norma said, "And for everyone present in this restaurant. If any of you put this out there, you will feel my wrath. I'm a young prosecutor. A Pitbull. Outside of the courtroom the same rules apply!"

They listened.

No one dared get in her way.

She's been on the cover of twenty three magazine covers in the past few months. She was a growing celebrity.

Remaining quiet, Francisco gazed into Lynn's eyes, placing a finger over his lips.

Shhh...

Lynn didn't say a word.

Francisco said, "Now that you made your announcement, sweetheart...I'm not a part of the elite group of people you just threatened. I'm your husband. I'm in a league all my own. You don't get to talk to me like I'm a pile of dog shit you accidentally stepped in."

"You lost that right and my respect when you told a bum bitch to join us for dinner."

"I'm an adult. Yes, I'm married, so I will do and say whatever in the damn hell I please. It's that simple."

Norma challenged him. Lynn found it all amusing and thoroughly entertaining. Reality television at its finest and reality TV didn't exist on the airwaves during that time in their lives.

"So you took away my ability to choose, choose if I wanted to eat with the likes of this streetwalker seated before us. She's like a cockroach in a good bowl of soup. Yes, I'm married to you, but I will use my white privilege card when need be."

Francisco stifled a yawn. Bitch was boring him. "She's here now, so deal with it, Miss Prosecutor. Your ego knows no boundaries, does it? If you had a problem with me inviting her...there are more responsible ways to do that without pulling the narcissist number on our evening? Can you blow fire from your pie hole, too, wife?"

Norma said, "I blew it from that pathetic excuse of a penis, husband. You don't remember silky white avalanches over your swollen mushroom head? You didn't seem to question my fire, then."

Francisco slammed a fist down on the table. Lynn was startled. Norma was taken aback, but she wasn't intimidated.

"You should have addressed me, first, if you didn't approve!" said Francisco. "But you addressed the restaurant patrons who are only here to eat and enjoy their lives. Your public image meant more to you than your uneasiness with a third member at the table. And now you're offended."

"Deeply."

"Obviously what you brought to the table turned out to be just what it was: nothing. Was our relationship not important enough to address me first while we're in public, to see if I approved of you threatening our peers and representatives because you're above those that are less fortunate than you?"

"You're damn right!"

"Who died and appointed you a God, or God. I'm not the holiest man in the world, but even I know you're not the King of Kings or Lord of Lords. Everything and everyone doesn't evolve around you in your pathetic little universe you spoke into existence through the Law of Attraction and Abundance. The buck stops with me, candy panties."

Giggling, Lynn said, "Candy panties. Ha, ha, ha, oh my damn that's a good one."

But Norma's cold stare shut her right on up. Into a ball of silence.

"You're are a piece of work, Francisco!" Norma interjected. "You didn't ask if I was ok with you eating with bums before you took away my option to say yay or nay, but you wanted me to address you first after your invitation was effectively approved when she sat her dirty ass in a twenty three hundred dollar chair at the finest restaurant in town? She didn't even speak to me. Just sat down googly eyeing my husband like she wanted to snatch your clothes off and fuck you on this table," Norma said without yelling or screaming. She spoke at a moderate tone, without being too dramatic. It wasn't her style.

"Fuck it, Norma and fuck you right now, seriously. I'm not with you for your damn money. I lost my career focusing on yours and trying to be a supportive husband by believing in your dreams and ambitions. I live off of my savings, and trust me the river isn't going to run dry any time soon or in the near future."

Francisco snapped for the waiter.

A tall, handsome college student assisted him.

Francisco glanced at Lynn, admiring how quiet and vulnerable she was, despite her outer appearance.

"Lynn, I apologize for you witnessing our spat. I can only speak for myself. I don't want to speak for the Queen of Nothingsville on planet It's Not Her, that's for damn sure...What would you like to drink with your meal?"