Page 11 of Falling for Red
“You’re a cheese head now.”
“Looks that way,” she says, smiling bright.
Finding an open spot, I pull in, flick the key, and look at Claire.
“Make sure you order too much food,” I encourage, giving her hand a quick squeeze, then unbuckle my seatbelt. I don’t want her to feel self-conscious about anything tonight.
“You want me to be an expensive date?” she asks teasingly.
I want to spoil her.
“I want you to get what you want.” I smirk, getting out to open the door for her.
9
Jake pulls the chair out for me.He’s sweet.I admire the restaurant while he takes his seat. I’ve never been here before. La Nonna. The fanciest restaurant in town. I’ve walked past it many times and am excited to finally eat here. It’s cozy but elegant, with upscale finishes and white tablecloths.
“Hey Jake,” a twenty-something blonde says, approaching the table, cutting through the humming chatter of the full restaurant.
“Anna. Nice to see you.”
She smiles at me, and I recognize her. I’ve seen her in High Five before. “You work at High Five, right?” she asks after staring at me for a moment.
“Yeah. I’m Claire.”
She glances between Jake and me. “Do you want to order some wine? Maybe a bottle of Chianti?”
Jake raises an eyebrow, leaving the decision to me.What do I want?I don’t need to impress him by pretending to be a wine connoisseur.
“I’m more of a cocktail girl,” I share, looking directly at him, then glancing back at the server. “I’ll have a Negroni.”
“Oh. I haven’t had one of those in a while.” He sounds genuinely excited. I don’t know why, but that excitement makes me smile. “I’ll have the same,” he orders.
“Great … and Jake, were you the one that pranked Chad’s truck?”
“What?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Good. I’m happy it wasn’t you. I figured it was another one of the lost boys that refuses to grow up.”
“Don’t lump me in with the guys.” Jake laughs.
“You’re friends with Chad. You’re guilty by association,” Anna chides and then says, “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
“You know her?” I ask, curious about that interaction.
“She’s dating one of my best friends.”
I shouldn’t judge. I was that girl. The younger girl with the older guy. But part of me wants to tell her all of the red flags to look out for. I sip my water. “You’re still pranking?”
“I was not involved in whatever she’s talking about,” he says with a shrug.
This date feels easy so far.It’s going better than I anticipated.
“It’s not that I don’t like wine, by the way,” I share, wanting to keep the conversation flowing after a growing pause. “But I prefer a cocktail. Also, I don’t like to drink while I eat. I’m more of a pre- and post-meal cocktail person.”
“I’m not much of a wine guy either.” He leans back in his chair slightly. There’s an easy charm to him, like he’s used to being comfortable in his own skin. Maybe it’s the confidence that comes with looking likethis—strong, tall, andtoogood looking.
“So, you were going to suffer through for me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, teasing him. A defense mechanism I am well aware of. The more I tease, the more interested I am in a guy.
