Page 10 of Tobias

He gives me a bright smile, a proud look in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s right. You like history?”

I shrug. “My dad likes history. I grew up listening to him ramble off all sorts of things about the city.”

“Is he affiliated with the city in any way?”

“Not really, no.”

The waitress comes over, bright and happy. Her dark hair is pulled back in a thick, shiny ponytail, the end of it reaching her middle back.

“Evening, gentlemen. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Scotch, please,” I say.

“Same,” Tobias says.

“And have we thought of any appetizers?”

I glance down at the menu in front of me.

“We’ll need a few more minutes for that,” Tobias answers easily.

“All right. I’ll be back shortly with your drinks,” she says before moving off.

“I swear I’m not usually such a mess. I’m just nervous.”

“Hey, there’s no judgment from me,” he says with a wave of his hand. And I actually believe that. There’s a calming presence about him. Something about his face tells me he’s trustworthy. His kind eyes, maybe. “It’s normal to be nervous in a situation like this.”

“You’re not.”

“Well, this is my job. I have to be good at it.”

His job… right. Why the hell am I acting like such a fool? I’m never going to see this man again after tonight. I have a date with him. I paid for him… for the next three hours. I did this for a reason, and I’m not going to waste it. He wasn’t cheap, and Ineedto figure my shit out before the wedding.

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s a good point. How long have you been doing this?”

“Eight years.”

“And you like it?”

“Love it,” he says. “I get to meet so many different sorts of people. Sometimes I get free vacations.”

“Wow,” I say in awe.

“It’s kind of a dream job.”

“Don’t you ever consider settling down?” I have no idea why I ask that. “Sorry, that’s personal, and—”

“It’s okay.” He waves me off. “I’m an open book. I’ve got no secrets, and I’m comfortable talking aboutalmost anything.”

“Almost?”

He smirks. “Don’t get me started on religion and don’t tell me the Seahawks suck.”

I can’t help but laugh at how seriously he says it.

“Well, you don’t have to worry there. I refuse to speak about religion and I’m not much of a sports guy.”

“Ah, you wound me.” He presses his hand to his chest, smiling at me. It’s a fucking blindingly beautiful smile, and if I were on my feet, I’d have fallen over.

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