Page 36 of Unconventionally, Elle
"Oh my God, my favorite thing. Firepits and espresso martinis."
"But you ordered a Tito's, correct?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Barrett, you don't start with an espresso martini." I rolled my eyes flirtatiously.
"Fair point. Fair point, Elle Watson." He was nodding in approval.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the waiter come toward our table with our drink order.
"Have you had a chance to look over the menu?" he asked professionally as he placed our cocktails on the table. Barrett looked at me with another slight head tilt and a soft curve of his lips. I nodded and looked to the server.
"I'd like your scallops dish, please." I smiled and handed him my menu.
"Of course," he replied. "And you, sir?" he asked, his pen ready to write down Barrett's order.
"The rib eye, medium rare." Barrett handed him his menu as well.
I savored my smooth, briny martini as the server walked away. As I was about to speak, Barrett started to ask me a question.
"Oh, sorry. You first." He smiled and gestured for me to continue.
"Oh, it's nothing. I was just gonna say, I don't know much about you, Barrett Henry."
"There's not much to tell." He chuckled. "Born and raised in Boston. My family has been here since the revolution, and..."
"Oh my God, wait. Were they here for the Tea Party?" I asked, overexcited.
He rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, the Henrys were here when the tea was thrown into the harbor."
My eyes went wide and my lips curved into an enormous smile. "That is the coolest thing I've ever heard. Please tell me that's your interesting fact whenever you meet people?"
He laughed again and then shrugged. "Sometimes."
"Okay, so your family is Boston royalty. Any other fun facts?"
He quirked his mouth. "How about you tell me a fun fact first? Emma told me you moved here from New Orleans..."
I sighed and then took a quick drink of my cocktail. "Well, if you must know, I'm originally from New York."
His eyebrows lifted as he nursed his scotch. "A New York girl, huh? Interesting."
"Yep. My grandparents raised me, so I lived with them in New York. We actually used to come to Boston quite often when I was young. The condo I have now is the condo they left me in their wills."
I saw understanding dawn on him. His mouth parted slightly, but he stayed silent as I continued with my story.
"Here's my fun fact. My grandmother was also a writer, Grandma Di. And she won the exact same writing competition that I am trying to win."
"No way!" He leaned closer with his drink in his hand. "That's some family legacy stuff right there. Your grandma was Boston literary royalty, then." He winked.
I shrugged. "Eh, I don't know about that. She won, but she never went through with the publishing. She decided to live in New York City with my grandfather and become a mother and housewife. She left her writing dreams behind in Boston."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up an unpleasant memory," he said softly.
"No, no. It's fine," I lied. "It was her choice, not mine. I can't be mad at her for her decisions. Hell, if she didn't do that, I wouldn't be here, right?" I winked at him this time. "But yeah, okay, New Orleans. I was there for about ten years working in the financial sector. I quit in May."
"You quit? After ten years? What happened?" He leaned forward in his chair and crossed his arms on the table, mindlessly swirling his scotch.
"There was a situation with my boss, and he didn't appreciate or respect me very much even though I'd dedicated so much of my life and efforts to the company. I don't know, I just kind of broke, ya know? I realized I was miserable and that maybe I could be happy somewhere else." I looked at Barrett from under my eyelashes, waiting to hear his response. I wasn't disappointed.
