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“I think I’d rather enjoy my food without a twenty-minute dissertation on each dish, and an in-depth explanation of each and every ingredient used, and where it was procured. And honestly, I don’t care if my mushrooms are from a garden in the backyard, or some field in Italy, or the goddamn grocery store. I only care how they taste.”
Dan sips from his champagne glass, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “Fair enough. We won’t meet him then. And for the record, I very much agree with you. Besides, we can’t be here all day. I have other plans.”
My brow arches. “More?” My lips tighten into a small smile. “I’m really enjoying this, Dan. Thank you so much.”
“You deserve to be spoiled.”
“Not the spoiling part, although, of course I love this.” I gesture around the restaurant. “I’m enjoying being out with you.” I wink. “Almost as much as I enjoy being in with you.”
Again, he laughs, and I realize it’s a rare treat to see laughter reach his eyes. I never noticed how much sadness shadowed them until today.
“And I enjoy being out with you, and in you, too.” His cheeky smile makes my heart flip-flop.
The server arrives with our first plates before I can comment that I hope being in me is also part of his date plan. As she sets our plates down, she names the dish and gives no further explanation.
“It looks amazing,” I say, with my fork hovering over my plate, ready to dig in. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“My pleasure, truly.”
Over lunch Dan and I actually talk. We get to know each other, and it’s not all one-sided, either.
So many dates I go on the ‘conversations’ would be more accurately categorized as self-important monologues by whiny, egotistical fuckboys trying to convince me to like them while obliviously showing me all their worst qualities, but this isn’t that.
He tells me about his favorite places in Denmark, tales of his hockey-star glory, his twin brother Rex, and the grief he’s dealt with since his death. He also tells me how he struggles to live up to his parents’ expectations, and even though I learn so much more about him than I ever expected, I get the sense that there’s more he’s leaving out.
But I don’t push, and when the conversation comes around to me, I find that there are things that I leave out too. Like my job, my Dad’s presidential aspirations, and my mission to find the one. Or at least someone who comes close. Someone who makes me feel even a fraction of what the man across the table from me makes me feel.
The day is perfect, and I just want to enjoy it and the fantasy a little longer, even if it breaks my heart in the long run.
We finish eating and Dan glances at his wrist, his suit jacket riding up his arm long enough for me to glimpse at what looks to be a very expensive watch with a frown. “This took less time than I anticipated. So, let me ask you this: If I had wanted a tour guide today, where would you have taken me? And do you want to go there now? We have a little time before our next appointment.”
There’s a million cool places in the city that aren’t bars or bistros but at the moment I can only think of one. Whether or not a guy enjoys it is usually a good indication of whether or not we’ll have anything to talk about in the future, and even though I know that doesn’t matter with Dan, I want to know anyway.
So when we get back to the limo, I ask the driver to take us to Capitol Books, the biggest bookstore in the city, a place I can spend hours browsing. As we pull up, I wait for Dan to groan, or to say something dumb about hockey players not reading, but he doesn’t.
“You like to read?” He winces as soon as he asks, presumably because the answer is obvious.
I answer him anyway. “I love it. I read every day.”
“Me too. Well, mostly. I haven’t read since I got to the States, but it's been a pretty hectic trip.”
Before I can question him on that, he jumps out and comes around the car to open the door. I shoot the driver a smile and he smiles back.
“No point in fighting him. He wants to open his lady’s door, who am I to deny him?”
“I’ll be sure to tell him you deserve a big tip,” I say, but inside I’m squealing at being called his lady.
My eyebrows rise as he looks through the selections of bestselling fiction as if he’s genuinely interested.
“Are you one of those girls whose TBR list is a mile long? Do you have shelves full of books you’ve never read, but you can’t stop buying more?”
I smirk, because I know exactly what he’s talking about, but that’s not me. “No. I’ve read most of the books I own. I keep seeing ones I want to get, but I haven’t had the time in a while.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. “Perfect, then. Get whatever you want. Just keep in mind we need to be out of here in thirty minutes. I’m going to grab a few myself for the plane…” His words trail off and my gut plummets.
Dan swallows hard but neither of us speaks another word about it.
“Do you like thrillers?”
