“What about you?” He asked, leaning closer again as if he’d grown comfortable. “I know you’re younger.”
“Twenty-four,” I muttered, hoping the age gap wasn’t a deal breaker.
“God, I remember when I was that age,” he said, looking up as if the memories were fond. “But I won’t go into that, because I promised I would behave myself.”
“It sounds like you’ve had a lot of adventures,” I said just as the waitress arrived with our food. What I wouldn’t do to have an adventure of my own.
We chatted lightly as we ate, Gabriel sharing his meal with me. I found that I enjoyed it, and it was nice eating real food for a change. Ramen got old and boring after a while. People came and went, the clamor of the restaurant dying down as the evening went on. He talked about his travels in the U.S and abroad, mostly for doctor’s conferences and the occasional family vacation. I listened with interest. I’d never been anywhere neat, much less, out of Chicago. Sometimes I forgot there was awhole other world beyond the city. He was a talker. Once he got going, he didn’t stop. He also was an animator, his hands going everywhere as his eyes twinkled while detailing what London was like.
The waitress returned for the third time, and he apologized sheepishly. “Sorry. I was gifted with gab. We will need some to-go containers.”
She seemed delighted to help and as soon as she was gone, he returned to his conversation. It was nice being talked to, and taken on a trip, if only in my mind.
When he took a breath, I interjected. “Well, now I don’t need to go there.”
A flush highlighted his cheeks and he chuckled. “Like I said, gift of gab. It is getting late. You should probably muzzle me.”
“A gag seems more appropriate,” I said, before I could stop myself. I wasn’t sure why I’d gone there, but there was no going back.
He blinked at me for a moment. “That sounds hot.”
I blushed fiercely, my cheeks flaming.
“I’m behaving myself,” he whispered to himself as the waitress set a pair of containers and the check on the table.
We piled what was left of our food into the Styrofoam boxes. He finished off his tea with a big gulp, rewarding me with a view of his throat as he tipped his head back. Something tightened in my gut, the sudden urge to lick my way up that stretch of skin undeniable.
“Good to go?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I said and pulled my wallet out. I hadn’t looked at the check, too scared of my eyes popping out of their sockets.
“No, I got it,” he said, snatching the little black book from the table. “I asked you out.”
I watched apprehensively as he withdrew a credit card from his leather wallet and stuck it inside the checkbook. “Can I at least leave the tip?”
“Deal,” he said and slid out of the booth.
My heart drumming, I left a ten-dollar bill on the table. I had no idea if that were enough but figured our dinner couldn’t have been over fifty. Before I could ask, he was at the counter, paying with a friendly smile. Looking at the crinkled money, I couldn’t help thinking about all the necessities I could buy with it. The curse of living in poverty.
Realizing he’d left his topcoat in the booth, I grabbed it, surprised by how heavy and soft it was. I glanced at the label, not recognizing the name. It was made of Hungarian wool and smelled like a fortune.Sugar Daddy, I mused. I turned to join my date but found him behind me. He grinned, turned, and held his arms out. I slid the coat over his shoulders.
“Thank you, sir,” he said merrily.
We stepped out into the world, the block thick with the illumination of the streetlamps. Despite the chill, people were out and about, walking their dogs and shopping. I zipped my jacket up and threw the hood over my head. I inhaled deeply, getting a lung full of crisp air.
Gabriel was buttoning his coat as he stepped beside me. “Smell that?”
“What?”
He pulled in a big breath. “City nights always have that air of fun.”
City nights were like any other for me. Then again, I didn’t have much fun.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” He inquired.
“Yes. It was incredibly good. T-thank you.”
“I eat here at least once a week. I’m not at home much so I don’t cook very often,” he said. “So, what do you want to do now?”
