Page 26 of Art of Love
We sat outside in a private booth.
She looked uncomfortable from the minute we stepped inside, and just now, when the waitress came to take our orders, she asked for a glass of tap water and a bread roll. That was it.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I don’t eat much during the day,” she answered. Her eyes didn’t quite meet mine, and that beautiful color flushed over her cheeks.
Once again, I found myself thinking back to the other night, but not for her gorgeous body. I was thinking about what she’d told me, and from what she’d said, I knew she was broke. So, I decided on doing something my grandfather encouraged me to do. Mom couldn’t stand his sayings, but I loved the stuff he would come out with.
Easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to get permission.
Grandfather had a little book with quotes he’d picked up over the years. That one was from Admiral Grace Murray Hopper. I’d heard people use the saying a lot. Today was the first time I found the need to call on it.
“Do you eat meat?” I asked her.
“Yes.” She looked at me now.
“Fantastic.” I signaled for the waitress to come back. She marched over with her pen and notebook in hand.
“Hi, how can I help?”
“My friend’s decided she’d like to break her diet. I don’t know why she thinks she needs to be on such a thing. Look at her. She’s completely perfect.”
Jia’s cheeks flushed, and she tried to keep up her usual annoyed look with me but failed. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you food, love. Don’t want you to waste away.”
“The roll is fine.”
“The roll isn’t fine,” I argued.
“It is.”
“It is not.” The waitress giggled at our silly back and forth argument. “My lady will have a roast chicken salad sandwich with ...” I scanned the menu before me. Jia looked like a sweet potato fries girl. I loved them. “Sweet potato fries. And can you grab us both a large mug of your deluxe chocolate?”
“Sure thing.” The waitress sauntered away, and I returned my focus to Jia, who was looking at me with that weird assessing look again.
“What?”
“Why did you do that?” She tilted her head to the side.
“Order you good food, which I will be paying for?” I might have been dragging out this game I had of not telling her we hadn’t slept together, but it would be mean to allow her to worry over how she’d pay for an expensive meal when I was paying.
She pushed a wayward strand away from her cheeks. “No, I can’t let you do that.”
“Tough. I’m doing it, and I just did it. We need to come up with a few ideas today, and I can’t have you fainting on me because you refuse to buy food.”
“I’m not refusing to buy food. I just didn’t want to get my food here. We could have gone to somewhere like MacDonald’s.”
“God, no. I don’t eat fast food, and definitely not food like that. The food here’s organic.”
“Some of us can’t afford to eat organic.” She clenched her jaw.
“Well, it’s a good thing others of us can and want to make sure their colleagues/bed friends eat well too.”
Her cheeks flushed again. “Mr. Kane, I don’t know what it’s like in England, pretty certain people aren’t as crass as you, but I am not your bed friend.”
“Call it whatever you want. I’m still making sure you eat properly. Don’t you like chicken? Everybody loves chicken and sweet potato fries, and God, the hot chocolate is to die for. That was actually my attempt to get you to like me.”
