Page 29 of Christmas in Watch Hill
“It’s a date,” I said.
SEVEN
JESSICA
Ishould have saidno.
Having a fancy dinner was the last thing on my mind when it came to Ian. What I needed to do was figure out a way to tell him I was pregnant, and that our one-night stand over Halloween weekend had ramifications for both of us. I’d spent most of the afternoon trying to come up with a decent and reasonable way to break the news.
But I’d come up short.
And I’d been unable to resist the temptation when he’d asked me out and unable to say no when he texted me on Christmas Eve about a reservation he’d made at Neptune. It was one of the nicest restaurants in downtown Cincinnati and specialized in tapas and drinks with complicated names. By the time he picked me up at seven on the day after Christmas, the last two days had passed in a blur. I’d hardly been able to sleep or eat. On Christmas day, I joined my family for our usual dinner and present exchange, but I felt fake and insincere about what was going on. I didn’t know how to tell them. I didn’t know how to tellanyone.
Being pregnant with the baby of a guy I hardly knew simply felt strange.
“You look stunning,” he said when I answered the front door, his eyes taking in the silver knit dress I’d pulled from the back of my closet. It threaded the line between casual and formal, and I paired it with red heels and a small crocodile clutch. As Ian spoke, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to fit into the dress much longer.
Don’t think about that.
“You have good taste,” I said instead. “The New York Timessaid Neptune is one of the top restaurants in the Midwest.”
“If they believe it is, we better go judge it for ourselves.”
“The fried oysters are supposed to be the best.” I took my wool coat from the closet by the door. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“You haven’t eaten there?”
“First time for everything.”
I walked outside onto the front step, wondering as I did if fried oysters were allowed in a pregnancy diet.Probably not raw oysters, but fried?I wasn’t sure. Maybe it would be better to not risk it. Neptune would have plenty of other options on the menu anyway.
We drove to the restaurant and were soon seated at a corner table with a view of the chef’s preparation station and the rest of the dining room. Neptune had a plush décor set against a palate of navy blue and dark velvet. An elegant chandelier of crystal and gold served as the artistic focal point of the main dining room. Surveying the room, I saw a few city council members, one professional football player, and a man I was sure was an Ohio state senator.
“This is nice,” Ian said. “You could set this restaurant in DC and it would fit right in.”
The waiter arrived with two menus, a wine list, and some information about the evening specials. When he walked away to give us a few moments to decide on our order, Ian seized the thick portfolio containing the wine selections.
