Page 21 of Fake Dating the SEAL
The Alani’s didn’t live far from the resort. Honestly, even though it was the Big Island, getting to the other side of the island was no more than the time it might take to get throughrush hour traffic in a big city. “I was able to secure a reservation for a table by a window.”
Her brows rose high over her wide eyes. “What did you do? Slip the maitre d your life savings?”
“Not exactly.” He turned into the resort parking lot. “But when I stopped by on my way out of the resort to make my request, the young man at the podium noted my haircut. He asked if I was on leave from Pearl Harbor. I explained I’d already done my twenty and was joining the ranks of a civilian. One question led to another and when I mentioned I’d been a SEAL, next thing I knew, there was a reserved sign on the best table in the place.”
“Ah, he has a thing for SEALs?”
Kenny shook his head. “Not exactly. Seems his grandfather was a SEAL. Told me the man would fly back from the main land to kick his butt if he didn’t treat me right.”
“Well, good for Grandpa.”
That was pretty much what he thought. Even if all of this was free and just for show, deep down, he wanted her to have a really nice time. To be treated the way she deserved.
“Have you eaten here before?” He pushed the button to the top floor dining room.
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Only seen a glimpse in passing on my way to bathroom duty. And I don’t do that very often.”
The elevator dinged, and placing his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her out of the small space and across the expansive hall to the large double glass doors that led to the five star restaurant.
“Oh, my.”
Even he blinked. When he’d been there a short time ago he’d noticed that the place was fully decked out for upcoming holidays, but it had not been nearly as impactful as it was at this moment. A breathtaking expanse of festive elegance,the restaurant was worthy of a state dinner. In the corner, a magnificent, Christmas tree stood almost touching the high ceilings, its boughs shimmering with strands of multi colored lights reflecting off the shiny ornaments in every shape imaginable. Strategically placed bows in golds and reds added to the wow factor. “Definitely beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.”
“Every year I think the resort can’t outdo last year, and every year they surprise me.” Her gaze darted from one table to the next taking in the variety of themed centerpieces. Some had tea lights of green, white, and red in stemmed glassware of different heights, others had arrangements of red and white flowers perched on a gold rimmed glass vase with a crystal teardrop hanging within. Each table was as impressive as the one before.
The host, a different gentleman, greeted them. “Good evening. Welcome to the Plumeria. Do you have a reservation?”
“For two. Yates.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Yates. Follow me.”
Their table was tucked in a private corner with stunning views through the plate glass windows of the dark sea below and equally sparkling views of the tree across the way. They’d barely settled into their seats when the small band across the way began to play. It took a minute for him to recognize the tune.
“Oh, I love this song.” Her face lit up as bright as the Christmas tree. “Actually, I pretty much like anything Michael Buble sings.”
He shrugged. “He’s okay, but there’s no one like the original crooner… Sinatra.”
“Now I know my mom would love you. Sinatra is her favorite.”
“So your mom has good taste.”
Sara chuckled softly, reaching for her napkin.
Kenny pushed to his feet and stretched his hand out in front of her. “Can’t let a good song go to waste, even if it’s not a Sinatra tune. Join me?”
Sara looked at Kenny’s outstretched hand, then at the small dance floor where a few other couples swayed to the music. “You are a risk taker, aren’t you?”
“It’s in my DNA.” The smile that teased his lips had her toes tingling.
Sara placed her hand in his and Kenny led her to the dance floor. One hand settling at her waist while the other held hers gently, they moved slowly to Michael Bublé’s smooth voice. “You didn’t warn me you’re a good dancer.”
“Not that good.”
“Better than me.”
“I don’t know about that.” Gently, he raised her one arm high, spun her out then pulled her back in, pulling her flawlessly against him without letting her miss a single step.
“I feel like Ginger Rogers. I can’t believe I did that move and didn’t trip over my own two feet.”
