Chapter 28 Dinner with the McAllisters
DAISY
When Adrian said, “Nothing formal, just something chill,” I didn’t expect a five-star restaurant with golden chandeliers and waiters in tuxedos.
I pause just inside the entrance, gawking like a total tourist. The floors are so polished I can practically see my reflection, and there’s a faint scent of vanilla and money in the air.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, nudging Iris as we walk in. “We are so out of our league.”
She barely glances at me, keeping her voice low. “Calm your tits, Daisy. Try not to embarrass us.”
I huff and roll my eyes, but I’m grinning. I mean, who am I kidding? This is exciting.
I tug lightly at the sleeve of my black turtleneck. I paired it with wide-leg trousers and boots, simple but classy, at least, I hope it looks that way. Iris, of course, is effortlessly elegant in a beige midi dress and sandals that somehow make her look even taller. She always gets it right without even trying.
We scan the room until I spot Adrian waving us over. He’s already seated at a corner table, and next to him is someone I don’t recognize at first. Lanky build, silver hair, piercing blue eyes.
“That’s Kelvin,” Iris says, nodding toward him.
Ah. The mysterious youngest McAllister.
We make our way over, and Adrian stands up slightly, grinning like he owns the place. “Ladies,” he says.
I slide into the seat across from him. “Something chill, huh?” I repeat his words, giving him a pointed look.
He shrugs with zero shame. “What can I say? McAllisters don’t do basic.”
Iris mutters something under her breath, probably a curse, but focuses on Kelvin. “Hi,” she says with a small smile. “Nice to see you again, even though we barely talked the first time.”
Kelvin meets her eyes briefly and nods. “Yeah. You too.”
I lean in a little. “Hi. I’m Daisy.”
He turns to me, gaze calm. “Nice to meet you, Daisy.”
He has the kind of voice that barely rises above a hum, soft, reserved. Nothing like Adrian’s usual loud, flirty tone.
I sit back, studying him. He’s definitely younger, but not in the awkward, gangly way most teen boys are. He’s composed in that weird McAllister way. Still, something about him seems less intimidating than Darian and Zeus. Which is refreshing.
A waiter comes over, and we all glance at the menus. Iris orders something light, and I follow suit, even though my stomach’s ready to devour a mountain. Adrian, of course, orders like he’s been here a thousand times.
As the waiter walks off, I sneak another glance at Kelvin, who’s calmly sipping water like he hasn’t just been dragged into a semi-awkward double dinner.
“Do you talk much?” I ask him before I can stop myself.
He lifts a brow, slightly amused. “Only when I have something to say.”
I nod slowly. “Mysterious.”
Adrian laughs. “You’re trying so hard to crack him.”
I raise my brows. “Of course I am. I’ve met three McAllister boys, and so far, the odds are not in your favor.”
Iris shoots me a warning look.
Adrian smirks. “I’m the least problematic one, I’ll give you that. But still, three out of four is not fair.”
I glance back at him. “Well, if Kelvin passes the scrutiny test, then maybe there’s hope for your family name.”
Adrian laughs, nudging Iris gently with his elbow. She doesn’t laugh, but she gives him a small smile. I notice how her eyes shift even though Darian’s name isn’t mentioned, how her whole body stays taut when it is. She doesn’t say anything, but I catch it.
And for some reason, so does Kelvin. His eyes flick toward her for a second, like he’s noticing too. Weird.
I take a deep breath and decide I’m going to enjoy this. Expensive ambiance, decent company, food that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe,I’ll take it. Even if one of them has ice in his veins and the other two are walking enigmas.
Yeah, this should be fun.
The food arrives and, just like the rest of this place, it’s almost too pretty to eat. Almost. I dig in with way too much excitement for someone trying to appear classy in a five-star restaurant.
It’s quiet for a few minutes as everyone starts eating. Iris is slow and precise, like always. Adrian is basically inhaling his steak like he hasn’t eaten in days. Kelvin? Calm. Controlled. Every bite is deliberate.
I glance at him. “So… what grade are you in?”
He wipes his mouth before answering. “Senior year. High school.”
I blink. “Seriously? I thought you were in college already.”
He shrugs. “I get that a lot.”
Iris tilts her head, curious. “Are you planning to come to Westwood next year?”
Before Kelvin can answer, Adrian cuts in between mouthfuls. “He doesn’t have a choice.”
Kelvin’s jaw tenses a little. “Actually, I do.”
Adrian waves him off like he’s a fly. “Yeah, yeah, technically. But our father would have a stroke if he didn’t follow the legacy.”
“You’re not dad,” Kelvin replies quietly.
The table goes silent for a beat. I glance between them, sensing the undercurrent of tension. Iris catches it too, judging by her expression.
Adrian finally sighs and shifts the topic. “Anyway. What do you like? Besides doing everything your own way.”
Kelvin pokes at his food. “Photography.”
That catches both me and Iris off guard.
“Really?” I say. “That’s actually… kind of cool.”
Iris nods. “You don’t strike me as the artsy type.”
He gives a small shrug. “It’s the only thing that makes sense most days.”
That shuts us up for a moment. There’s something very real in the way he says it. I glance over at Adrian, expecting some kind of big-brother teasing, but he’s fully focused on his mashed potatoes, like none of this interests him.
“Alright, moody artist,” Adrian suddenly says, lifting his head. “Let’s not kill the vibe.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh please, you practically dragged him here.”
“Correction,” he says, lifting his finger, “I saved this dinner from being two girls awkwardly sipping water while Iris silently judges Daisy’s taste in boys.”
Iris raises a brow. “You’re not wrong.”
“Hey!” I gasp, but I’m laughing.
Adrian points at me with his fork. “You’ve been side-eyeing the wine list like you’re preparing for heartbreak.”
“I am a college student,” I reply. “It’s in the job description.”
Kelvin smirks at that, and I take it as a win.
We fall into easy conversation, bouncing from stupid high school stories to bad cafeteria food, to how Adrian once got his head stuck in a stair rail when he was eight. Apparently, it involved butter, two maids, and a near-hospital visit.
“I will never let you live that down,” Kelvin says, the most amused I’ve seen him all night.
Adrian places a dramatic hand over his heart. “You wound me.”
By the time we’re done eating, I’m full to my soul. Iris looks satisfied too, in her quiet way. Kelvin has barely touched his dessert. Adrian, meanwhile, polishes off the last of his before pulling out a wad of cash and tossing it on the table like it’s a casual Tuesday.
“Shall we?” he says, standing up.
Outside, the evening breeze cools my cheeks as we step out of the fancy warmth of the restaurant.
“That was amazing,” I say, genuinely grateful. “Thanks for dinner. I think my stomach has never been this happy.”
“It was nice,” Iris adds, hands in her coat pockets. “Even if someone almost started a family argument over mashed potatoes.”
Kelvin stays quiet, but there’s something lighter about him now. Like a tiny part of the McAllister weight has lifted off his shoulders.
Adrian grins wide. “What can I say? I deliver on unforgettable nights.”
“Cocky much?” I tease.
“I prefer confident,” he replies, winking.
I shake my head, laughing. “Sure, Your Highness.”