Page 8 of Polar Prank
It’s honesty. It’s curiosity. And it’s adorable.
She plays with the necklace dropping delicately into her decollate.
She’s wearing it…
“I don’t know what to pick,” she admits, biting her lip in that way that draws my gaze to her mouth. “Everything sounds so… exquisite and exotic. How do you choose?”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her, smiling as I suppress a laugh. “Just pick whatever sounds the best and has the flavors that are familiar to you. It might be surprising, but I grew up in a small town in the mountains —Everville— where ‘fancy’ meant the steakhouse down the road had plastic red and white checkered tablecloths and there was A-1 on the tables. The next best steakhouse didn’t have the A-1. They only had ketchup, so that meant something. Tonight is an adventure, but I don’t think they’ll have A-1 or ketchup here.”
This little Indian cuisine restaurant is Michelin star, James Beard Award Winning, talk-of-the-town stuff. It’s… pretentious and almost a little too much for me, too.
“I love A-1.” She mumbles and her gaze meets mine. “So you’re not used to this fancy stuff either?”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve had to learn to like it since I have to take our bigger accounts out to dinner and try to recruit the best of the best for the company, but I’d still rather have a beer and burger.”
“Then why didn’t you pick that?”
“I…” I swallow. “I wanted to pick something that was special, because I think you’re special, Iclyn.”
“But I like burgers. Really like them.”
I should have known. She’s down to earth, honest, and she’s real.
“You want to head out?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She grabs her bag from the table and quickly stands.
I throw a couple bills on the table for the opportunity to sit there and take a few sips of water, and we head out onto the streets of Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Any suggestions?” I ask.
Her face lights up again. “Yes!” She grabs my hand and pulls me down the street and around the corner.
“I bet you’ve never been here.” She points.
“Rudy’s Winter Wonderland?” I read the blinking sign that’s hanging from wire wrapped in gold, red, and green garland.
“It’s a pop-up brew pub.”
“What is that?”
She squeezes my hand and I swear the motion pumps that beating muscle in my chest.
“You’ll see. My friends and I came here last weekend and it was really fun.”
We head inside and if I thought the office had vomited the holidays, this… this is that on steroids. It’s a red and green, bulbs and garland, snowman, Santa, snowflake, candy cane and more extravaganza. And the music…
Oh, God, the music…
“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asks.
Iclyn leans in and says something quietly to the hostess they both laugh.
“Well then, that changes everything. Right this way,” the woman dressed as an elf nods over her shoulder.
“What did you say to her?” I lean down and whisper in Iclyn’s ear, taking in her shortbread cookie scent.
“I told her that as a grinch and were the perfect thing to fit into their holiday scenery.”
