She rolls her eyes and smiles. “I’m not changing mine, Casanova.” She shows her screen to me, and the photo is one of her, Juniper, and Peter clearly taken years ago. “This is prime real estate.”
I pocket my phone and open the door for Ivy and her family. As she walks past me, I catch her scent briefly, and it’s as if she’s tied a string to me and is pulling me behind her. There is something about the way her delicate floral scent mixes with her natural smell that attracts me like a moth to a raging bonfire.
“Mr. Henry. Welcome. Right this way.” A host smiles as he approaches us from behind a podium. “Carlo will be your dedicated server,” he says as he leads us into a dimly lit room.
“Thank you,” I say with a nod, then make my way to the table where I pull out a chair for Ivy. She suppresses a smile as she thanks me and sits. I sit to her left, across from Juniper.
“Does this place have chicken tenders?” Juniper asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “But I’m sure there will be something you’ll like.”
“You have more faith in that than you should,” Val says. “She is pickier than Peter, and trust me, that’s saying a lot.”
“Hello, my name is Carlo, and it will be my pleasure to serve you this evening.” Carlo moves around the table taking drink orders before disappearing.
“This place serves tapas, so I took the liberty to have them bring us a selection of their most popular dishes to share, along with some options for the children. Hopefully, there will be something satisfactory for all.” Then something dawns on me. “Does anyone have food allergies? I didn’t think about that.”
“We’re all good,” Ivy answers, and I can tell she’s pleased by this situation. I wonder if, being a restaurateur, she loves trying new foods. Or maybe she is the type to love surprises. I’d love to surprise her. Often.
As it turns out, this family is very vocal when it comes to the enjoyment of their food. From the adults, a chorus of moans, groans, and favorable adjectives. From the kids, there are also groans, but theirs are something more akin to fervent detestation. As it turns out, this particular fancy restaurantdoesnotcater to the picky child.
“I’m hungry,” Peter says as he stares down at the grilled chicken and candied sweet potatoes on his plate.
“You know, sometimes I just love a simple toast with peanut butter and jam.”
“I love peanut butter and jelly. Is that the same?” Juniper asks.
“Essentially, yes. And my housekeeper makes the best bread.”
“What’s a housekeeper?” Peter asks, at the same time as Juniper asks, “Can we go to your house and have a sandwich?”
I look up to their parents and Ivy, because as much as I would love to have them all over, I don’t want to agree to something that isn’t okay. I nod to the adults, giving my assent.
“Yes, we can go for a sandwich,” Micah says. “Hand me your plate, Peter. I want to try those sweet potatoes.”
The kids cheer, and Ivy smiles, bumping me with her shoulder. “Will there be a lady's maid who can attend to me?” she whispers.
“I can arrange for one,” I say, pulling out my phone. She laughs, and I open my texts.
ALEX
Do you all have swimsuits?I have a pool.
“I think I heard your phone buzz.”
Ivy gives me a quizzical look, then pulls her phone from her pocket.
BEAUTIFUL IVY
We do. But I’m pretty sure I hear rain.
ALEX
It’s indoors. Check with the others. I’d love to have you all for swimming. We can stop by your hotel for your things.
ALEX
Or just you. If you need some alone time with me.
