Pay me twenty billion dollars
"The last time I checked, I didn't ask you for a date. What are you doing here?" Desmond asked.
"The last time I checked, you were not the owner of this restaurant. So you don't have the right to ask me why I'm here." She replied.
"I may not be the owner, but this is my table, and I didn't invite you." Desmond countered, and she immediately replied, "Stop talking as if you are not happy I'm here."
Desmond chuckled and shook his head before asking, “How did you even know I would be here?”
“Because you usually come here on Fridays.” She answered and Desmond smirked slightly. “Not always,” he corrected.
“But most times,” she countered, and he chuckled again, taking a sip of his wine before nodding slightly. “Fair enough. So, how is your father?” he asked.
“He’s getting stronger.” She replied. “I came here to appreciate you personally. I wanted to thank you for saving him since I didn't do that yesterday.”
“Okay,” he replied. “I’m happy I could help.”
"So......how much do you want for appreciation?” she asked, and Desmond let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “So you came here to pay me for saving your father? Anabel, I don’t want your money.”
“I don’t want to be ungrateful, Desmond. I want to pay you off."
“You are not ungrateful. At least you have said thank you, which is enough for me." He said.
“But I want to pay you. I want to settle with you for your work.” She insisted.
Desmond took a sip of his wine and set the glass down before replying. “If I wanted to get paid, I know exactly who to ask. But the fact is that I don’t need the money. I’m doing fine.”
Anabel let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “You should listen to me, Desmond. Don't do what you will regret. You have to accept payment because you are never getting what you really want.”
Desmond raised an eyebrow slightly. “And what’s that?” He asked, and her expression shifted slightly, replaced with utter seriousness. “You are rejecting the money because you want me back. You saved my father to please me. To win me back. But let me make one thing very clear...” She leaned forward slightly. “That will never happen. It will only happen in your dreams,” she finished and leaned back into her seat.
"You know," he said and took a sip of his wine before he continued, "I never knew the patient before coming to the hospital. I was shocked to see you there. I had no idea it was your father."
"I don't care, just tell me how much you want," she said. "I will pay you. Forget about having me back, because it will never work."
"You can't give me what I want, Anabel. You are just a rich man’s daughter. That doesn’t mean you are rich enough." He intentionally said it to provoke her. He was baiting her, and it worked. Her brows furrowed, and she snapped back, "How much, Desmond? Tell me. Name any amount."
Desmond smirked, swirling the wine in his glass before leaning back casually. "Anabel, this is not a movie. This is real life. You can’t pay me what I want."
She scoffed and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Then say it," she pressed. "Or are you afraid to mention it because you know I can afford it?"
"Alright, Since you want to pay me, then I'll tell you. For saving your father’s life, pay me twenty billion dollars. He said. Anabel didn't see that coming. She wasn't expecting him to say that outrageous amount.
"Twenty billion dollars?" she repeated, staring at him like he had lost his mind. "That’s insane. Why would you even say that?" She complained, and Desmond shrugged nonchalantly. "You asked me to name any amount. So I did. Twenty billion dollars. Pay me, and I’ll be grateful."