Her knuckles were white on the table and she was shaking. I was such an ass.
“Is that true?” she prodded the waiter. “Or did he pay you to say that?”
“It’s true.” The waiter looked confused. “Would you like me to get the manager? Or you could just Google it. It’s right on our website.”
“I’m sorry, Faith,” I said. “I didn’t—”
“I thought…” She shook her head, and her hands relaxed on the table. “I thought you were planning…” She laughed, and it released a ton of pressure from my chest. “I made an assumption thatyou’dmade an assumption.”
“Faith, I’d never…”
“I know.” She stepped toward me. “It’s me who owes you an apology. Mother told me not to trust men and… Well, since I came to San Francisco, I’ve been duped a few times. Sister Henry says I’m too trusting.”
“You see the good in others. That’s amazing.” I immediately wanted to hurt whoever she’d trusted who hadn’t deserved it.
The waiter peeked into the folder. “I’ll get your change, sir.”
I shook my head. “Keep it.”
“But sir, it’s over…”
“It’s yours,” I told him.
I tentatively held my hand out to Faith, and my body filled with relief when she took it. “Let’s go.”
We walked out to the street, and as we waited for the limo, she was still holding my hand. It was hard to describe how happy that made me. It was about the trust the handholding implied, and the intimacy of it, too—intimacy greater than I’d felt with most women after sex.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“No fog, tonight,” I said. “How about we go somewhere with a view?”
She smiled. “Yes, please. That would be very nice.”