ELIZABETH’S POV

“You had one simple task, how could you not get it right, fucking Americans,” I snapped, feeling the anger still rising in my chest like something alive. My voice cut through the café loud enough for a few heads to turn, but I didn’t care. The stupidity in front of me needed to be addressed.

 I could still feel the sting in my palm from when I slapped him the first time, and honestly, I didn’t think I had hit him hard enough. Maybe I should have poured the other drink on his worthless uniform too. It would’ve matched nicely with the first splash ruining my dress. The...