Page 61 of Trophy
Rob had made an effort with his appearance too. He wore a jacket over his dress shirt and tan trousers. His clothes obviously weren’t custom tailored or particularly expensive, but she thought he looked very nice.
She’d never seen him in a suit jacket before.
He told her the restaurant was the best one in the area. A New York chef had moved to the mountains and decided to open the place a few years ago. It was full every weekend, and it was really the only choice in the county if you wanted something other than fast food, standard-issue Mexican, or basic country cooking.
Rob was in a good mood, and he made her laugh on the drive there on some very windy mountain roads. The road suddenly reached a micro-town with a few houses and one intersection, and Rob took the turn to end up at what looked like an old storefront.
“This is it?” she asked. There were already a lot of cars here, but the place really didn’t look like much.
“Don’t judge by appearances,” he teased. “Wait and see when you get inside.”
“I’m not judging. I’m sure it will be great.”
“If it’s not, you can tell me, you know. You don’t have pretend to spare my feelings.”
“I… I don’t think I’m pretending,” she said, stumbling a little on the words.
“Good. I’m glad.”
His expression sobered for just a moment, and she was suddenly afraid that shewaspretending, exactly as Arthur always said she was. Pretending she could be independent and run her own life when she was really just waiting for another man to come along and make it better.
Before she could let that thought fester, they were getting out of his truck, and he was taking her hand as they walked in.
She liked how it felt. A lot. Not just the warm, strong grip of his hand, but also how it felt to be really with him this way, for everyone who saw them to know they were a couple.
With Arthur she’d felt like an expensive accessory, a sign of Arthur’s alpha maleness, his ability to land an attractive younger woman. She didn’t feel that way with Rob, and the difference was jarring.
She felt like he actually wanted to be with her. Withher.
All of her fears were just silly. Everything was different with Rob.
The place was pleasant and kind of folksy, with a lot of local arts and crafts on shelves and hanging on the walls. There were quite a few tables fit into a small space, but it all seemed very comfortable. Near the front there was a small stage where she assumed local musicians sometimes performed. There were microphones and speakers set up, as well as a couple of instrument cases.
As the hostess showed them to their table, Rob waved and nodded at three different tables.
“Do you know everyone?” she demanded with a laugh.
“Not everyone. But I was born in this county, and I’ve lived here all my life. And there aren’t actually that many people here to meet.” He was smiling at her over the candle on the table, and she couldn’t miss the appreciation in his eyes. He was really glad to be here with her. He was pleased and proud that she was his date.
He wasproud.
The waiter handed Rob the wine list, but Rob handed it over to Allison after the young man had left. “You can choose the wine. Anything you want.”
“But what do you want?” she asked, scanning it and surprised by how good a list it was for such an out-of-the-way restaurant. “I want you to like the wine too.”
“I don’t care. I’ll drink anything. It’s your birthday. You pick. We can even get that expensive champagne if you want.”
It was a sweet gesture, but Allison gave a little shudder as she looked to the bottom of the list. “No, thank you. Arthur always drank that.”
“Then we’ll definitely get something else.”
Allison found a midpriced merlot that she liked, and they ordered that with their entrées and appetizer. Rob had been right about the food. It was surprisingly good, and Allison kept making comments about how delicious it was and how she never would have guessed it from the outside.
“I told you not to judge,” Rob told her with a fond smile.
“I really wasn’t judging! I just… didn’t know.”
She could tell from his expression that he was having a good time, and she thought her face was probably conveying that she was too. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way—like the world was brand new, like it was full of fresh starts, like what had happened in the past wouldn’t necessarily dictate what happened to her in the future.
