Twenty-nine

Twenty-nine

Natasha and Howard was having their dinner in a prestigious restaurant when a waiter approached their table and served them a bottle of wine.

Howard creased his forehead.

“Did you order another glass of wine?” he asked Natasha.

She shook her head, confused as well. She does not recall ordering anything. Howard was the one who ordered their dinner.

“Maybe you approached the wrong table. We did not order this,” he told the waiter.

“No, sir. Your friend asked me to deliver this on your table. He told me that the drink is on him and he also want me to give you this letter,” the waiter explained and handed Howard a plain white envelope.

He opened it and the lines on his forehead are visible as he read what’s written on it. Who could have sent it to him?

“What is it?” Natasha asked upon noticing that there is something wrong, but Howard ignored her and gave his attention to the waiter.

“Who gave you this letter?” Howard demanded, intently looking at the waiter.

“He already left