Page 14 of With Us

“Dahlia,” he greeted. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you look great, too.”

His smile turned into a grin. “Hungry?”

I nodded before letting him lead me inside.

The interior was even more stunning than the pictures had shown, a mix of edgy and sophisticated.

“I’ll let them know we’re here,” Theo said, tilting his head toward the crowded host stand.

“Okay.” Moving out of the way of people coming and going, I scoped out the rest of the room. There was a table next to me with glass bowls of matchbooks and golf tees. I needed neither, but I grabbed them anyway, sliding them into my bag. Fast food was a splurge for me. Having a date somewhere like Revel was definitely worth remembering.

“Ready?” Theo asked a moment later, his hand moving to rest gently on my lower back as we weaved through the crowds.

We followed the hostess up the stairs to the main dining area. The bar was jam packed and almost every table taken. She led us to an empty one next to the window overlooking the ocean. I could see part of the skyline, plus some boats in the distance. The full moon reflected on the dark water.

“Is this table okay?” the hostess asked, her tone confused.

“It’s perfect,” I breathed. Realizing she wasn’t talking about the view, I tore my gaze away and smiled. “Thanks.”

I glanced down and noticed Theo moved one of the two chairs so it was facing the window instead of next to it.

He put light pressure on my back. “Sit.” When I did, he took his seat next to me. “The table is perfect,” he told the hostess.

She looked relieved. “Can I get you both something to drink? We have an immense collection of top shelf liquors, including a specialty cocktail menu. We also have one of the largest wine selections in the city. Would you like me to send over the sommelier?”

“Do you like wine, Dahlia?”

I’d always thought wine was a casually sophisticated drink. I’d looked forward to my twenty-first birthday, when I’d been able to proudly march into the store and pick up a bottle of their cheapest wine. All the anticipation had been for nothing, because the entire bottle, minus a few sips, had ended up down the drain.

Hesitating, I tried to think of how to decline politely.

Theo read me better than I’d anticipated, and chuckled. “I’ll take that face to mean you don’t.”

“I’ve only tried it once, but I wasn’t a fan,” I admitted, leaving out the fact it’d been a five-dollar bottle of wine that’d left the bad taste in my mouth.

Literally.

“What about orange?” the hostess asked. “We have a popular orange cocktail that doesn’t have a strong alcohol taste.”

“That sounds much better.”

After taking Theo’s scotch order, the hostess left us to look over the menu. Despite my efforts to plan ahead, I had no clue what I wanted.

Our server came over and introduced himself before returning a few minutes later to drop off our drinks. The irrational feeling of pressure grew with each minute.

“Would you like to go somewhere else?” Theo asked. “I figured this was a safe bet, but if you aren’t finding—”

“No, no, I’m finding a lot. Too much, actually. I’m horrible at deciding.”

“Is there any food you’re allergic to or hate?” At the shake of my head, he continued. “Answer fast, okay? Chicken or Seafood?”

“Seafood.”

“Seafood or steak?”

“Steak.”

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