Page 10 of The Disasters of Dating
His brow creases as we come to a stop at the hostess desk of the restaurant. “Sounds like you’ve done a lot of research on this.”
I nod. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when looking into opening a business?”
He grunts out a laugh. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t.”
The hostess grabs the menus and leads us back to a table. I open the menu and bite my lip. I knew this was going to be expensive. It’s not like this will mean eating Ramen for a month. I mean, I live at homewith my mom. But still, I don’t usually spend this much money on food. I have tuition to pay. Maybe I can get away with ordering soup? It’s not like I can penny pinch when I almost got the guy arrested. “So, what looks good?” I say, trying to hide the uptick in my pitch.
He scans the menu. “Should we start off with some iced shrimp or a shrimp cocktail?”
We’re having appetizers? I reach for my amethyst. This is going to set me back more than I thought. “Sounds delicious,” I say through a tight smile.
“And then I think I might try the Ahi tuna.”
I swallow. The tuna on its own is over forty bucks. Holy crap! Soup has now become my only option, and there is only one kind listed. Man, I wish I liked clams. It’s the only thing under ten dollars, and even then, it doesn’t come with bread. Why would a person ever eat soup without bread? That’s, like, crazy talk. “I’ve never had the Ahi. But I’m sure it’s great. Everything here is delicious.” Except for the clam chowder...and anything else with clams. Do I splurge and spend the extra four dollars and just get the halibut burger? At least I would enjoy it. And when you spend that much money on food, you should enjoy it, right? “I think I’ll get the halibut burger.”
He nods. “Oh, that does look good. I love halibut.”
I perk up. Maybe he’ll change his mind and go the cheaper route.
“You convinced me.” He smiles over the top of his menu. “I’m going to get the crab-stuffed halibut.”
My stomach drops to my toes when I see the price. Fifty-two dollars. I have no words.
CHAPTER 4
KEATON
Any troubles you may have will pass very shortly.
Learn Chinese: ?? —Wancan — Dinner
Lucky Numbers: 80, 4, 23, 9
I grin behind my menu.I’m pretty sure that Poppy did not intend for dinner to cost this much money. I have no intention of having her pay…I am a gentleman. Maybe it’s a little mean of me to watch her sweat as I order the most expensive thing on the menu, but shedidtry to have me arrested. Falsely. So, she kind of deserves it, right?
The server comes to the table. “Welcome to Crab Market. Have you been here before?”
Poppy nods. “Yeah, I work in one of the shops farther down the terminal.”
The server smiles but quickly turns her attention—and smile—to me. “And you, honey?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I’m a first timer.” I drop my eyes to the menu. I’m mildly annoyed at the “honey.” I know I shouldn’t be. If I were in Louisiana or South Carolina and a woman called me honey, I’d chalk it up to southern charm. But this lady has no accent. And she didn’t call Poppy honey. It feels like it’s a flirty thing, not a cultural thing. I’m not into it.
She leans in close and points at the menu with a long, sculpted, red nail. Her breath tickles my cheek. “I would recommend the Ahi. We flew it in fresh this morning.”
We? Was she on the plane with the tuna underone arm and a halibut under the other? I scoot over on the bench, putting as much space between us as this little table allows. Can’t she see that I’m with Poppy? While I never said this was a date, won’t people assume it is? I clear my throat. “I think I’ve already decided on the crab-stuffed halibut.” I close my menu and look over at Poppy. I don’t know her well enough to interpret what look she’s giving me. Is it weird that I hope it’s jealousy? But it could be exasperation at what I ordered.
The server seems to take the hint because she straightens and steps back. She doesn’t have a pad of paper. So this is a “remember-my-order” kind of establishment. That can either be great or very bad. I guess I’ll wait to see which. “Great choice,” she says in a slightly less perky voice. “Do you want soup or salad?”
“Soup,” I say. “Oh, and can we get an appetizer of iced shrimp?” I swear I hear a quiet huff from across the table. I bite back my smile.
The server—whose name is Bethany, if her name tag is correct—nods. “Sure, thing, honey.” I tick my head to the side, clutching my napkin in one hand.
She looks at Poppy, and her smile is far less genuine. “And for you, Miss?”
Poppy licks her lips, and I notice how very kissable they are. Not too plump, but not flat either. Just the right amount of fullness. I shake my head. What am I thinking? This isn’t a date. Or is it?
“I’ll have the halibut burger, please.” Poppy closes her menu.
