Page 75 of Fate in Motion
“As you wish,” I say with a smirk.
Carter drops to his knees and kisses my clothed ass, which makes me laugh. I quickly stuff my papers into the folder, grab my jacket, and say, “Okay, now I’m really ready.”
Carter taps my butt and leads me to the door. He already called the Uber, which is waiting to take us to the Italian restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen. It’s also walking distance from the gay bar we’re going to after. Carter says it’s called Rainbow Pony, which sounds super colorful.
The ride’s about twenty-five minutes. As we step out and walk toward the restaurant, I look up at the sign. “Linguino,” I read aloud. “That’s a fun name. I love it.”
Carter kisses my cheek and grabs my hand. I notice people walking past, a few glancing over. Some side-eyeing, maybe recognizing him. My stomach tightens a little.
Carter must sense it. “Funny that you’re the nervous one and I’m completely fine.”
“Shut up. I’m not nervous,” I lie. “But, I am glad you’re so carefree.”
We step inside. The hostess immediately lights up when she sees Carter.
“Mr. Elliott, you’ve been amazing this season. I’m a fan; don’t mind me.”
“Thanks,” Carter says, all charm. “Go Hawks. I love meeting fans or anyone who recognizes me.”
He adds, “I reserved a table for me and my boyfriend. Is it ready?”
She glances at me, raises an eyebrow briefly, and then says, “Yes, right this way.”
I smile at Carter as we follow her. I knew this day was coming, but the way he’s owning it all. It’s kind of mind-boggling.
We’re seated at a small marble table near the center of the restaurant. It’s busy, with about fifteen to twenty tables filled with mainly couples and a few larger groups.
Five minutes later, our waiter shows up. He looks around our age; blond hair, icy blue eyes, around 5’8’. “Can I start you off with something to drink?” he asks, mainly looking at Carter.
Carter answers before I can. “We’ll take your most expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”
The waiter blinks. “We have one, but it’s about $500 per bottle. Is that okay?”
“Perfect,” Carter says. “We might need a second, so check for two bottles, while you're at it.”
The waiter nods, barely reacting, and heads off. I lean over and say, “I love you so much. You spoil me, babe.”
We talk without even thinking about it. About the cafe, his team, how exciting life is, and how fate and timing brought us all together. He and Paul. Me and Mel. Us. We talk about everything.
Ten minutes later, the waiter returns with two glasses and the red wine. “Here’s your bottle,” he says flatly.
He goes to pour, and Carter bursts out, “Aren’t you supposed to ask if we want to taste the wine first?”
Our waiter looks at Carter and says with little emotion, “Would you like to taste it first?”
Carter nods. “Yes, please.”
We both try it and give each other a nod. Carter looks up and says, “It’s great.” Our waiter then swiftly pours each of us a generous pour.
Before he can walk away, Carter holds up a finger. “Actually, we’re ready to order.”
The waiter turns back, with no pen or pad in sight. “We’ll have two chicken parm dinners,” Carter says, “with linguine on the side. And if you have bread, preferably garlic, bring that too. Thank you.”
“You got it,” the waiter replies and walks off.
Carter leans toward me. “I think he hates me.”
“Oh, 100%. But he’s also kind of a dick. You’re a waiter, where is the emotion, and the pizazz?”
