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He winked at her. “Just like you, huh?”
She had absolutely no idea what he meant by that. But she smiled and tried her hardest to be gracious. A summer spent at Miss Mary Ellen’s camp for Southern Girls of Good Breeding (okay, that wasn’t the actual name, but close enough) had taught her more than just how to do the foxtrot at the country club.
They walked out to the driveway. The night air was nippy, probably down in the low fifties. Ted drove one of those fancy looking convertible sports cars.
“We’re not driving with the top down, are we?” Lauren asked. If that was the case, then she’d need to go back inside and get a proper jacket.
He frowned. “Well, that’s how this baby was meant to be driven. It’s a Ferrari, top of the line. But you look so pretty, and I wouldn’t want you to get all mussed up, so in this case, I’ll make a rare exception and put the top on. Just for you.” Then he showed her those teeth of his again in the most disingenuous smile Lauren had ever seen.
Today was rapidly disintegrating into a four. Free food. Chance to wear the dress. He helped her get in the car. The click of a button brought the car’s rooftop smoothly back in place. Then Ted turned on the ignition, shifted gears and took off like a bat out of hell down the residential street.
“Um, Ted, you might want to slow down. There are kids in the neighborhood.”
“Not at this time of night,” he said tightly. Then he relaxed and added, “No worries, I haven’t run anyone over. Yet.”
He sped through town and took a sharp turn into the parking lot of The Harbor House, Whispering Bay’s most expensive restaurant, coming to an impressively seamless stop in front of the valet parking podium.
“Smooth, huh?” He reached out and patted the console like it was his pet puppy.
The two valets on duty took one look at the car and came scrambling out from behind the podium. One of them opened the car door for Lauren.
“Oh, it is so my turn,” said the tall one, gawking at the car.
“You got to drive the Lamborghini last week,” said the other valet.
Ted grinned, obviously enjoying the fight over his prized possession. “No need to squabble. One of you can park her and the other one can bring her around when we’re done.” He tossed the keys to the tall valet, who caught them in the air and made a fist pump, causing Ted to chuckle. “You’ll handle her right, won’t you, boys? A car is like a woman, the more expensive she is, the gentler you need to handle her, until you’re in the driver’s seat and she’s beneath you. Then it’s the pedal to the metal and full steam ahead.”
Both valets laughed as if this was funny. Ted must have noticed Lauren’s shocked reaction, because he cleared his throat and shrugged. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
She pursed her lips. Boys and their toys. She suspected Ted would be a boy until the day he croaked. The valet with the keys did a slow three-sixty around the car to admire it. He stopped briefly and bent down to inspect something on the bumper. Was there a dent on Ted’s precious baby? Lauren was beginning to hope there was. Maybe he’d be so traumatized that he’d have to cancel their date.
The valet’s gaze darted to Lauren, then to the other valet, who also came around to get a look at the car from behind. Both of them studied the bumper, then looked at her again and laughed. Lauren frowned. “Is there something—”
“I’ll expect that car in the exact same condition when we’re done,” Ted said, cutting her off. He offered her his arm. She was loathe to take it, but the sooner they got tonight going the sooner she could resume her date with Jimmy Stewart and that bowl of popcorn.
The Harbor House served seafood in an elegant setting. The main dining room was a large open space with more intimate seating in the back featuring a view of the gulf. There were only two empty tables that Lauren could see. The hostess escorted them to a table in the back next to a fountain.
“We want to sit there,” Ted said, pointing to the only unoccupied table facing the water.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that seating is reserved for
a special occasion.” A dozen long stemmed roses were artfully arranged in the center of the snowy white tablecloth and a bottle of champagne sat icing in a silver bucket.
“Yeah, I bet it is.” Ted took out his wallet. “How much?”
“I think this table right here is lovely,” Lauren interjected. “I’ve always loved fountains.” She pulled out her own chair and sat down before Ted took his bad behavior any further.
The hostess looked relieved. She smiled at Lauren and handed her a menu. “I’ll be happy to offer you both a complimentary cocktail,” she said.
Left with no other option, Ted sat down as well. He ordered a Glenfiddich on the rocks and Lauren ordered a white wine. “You should have let me handle that,” Ted chastised.
“Oh, but this is a perfectly nice table.” Then, in an attempt to add some brevity to the situation she added, “Besides, I don’t like looking out at the water. I get sea sick.”
Ted didn’t laugh at the joke. Thankfully, the drinks came quickly and once he’d taken a few sips of his whiskey he seemed to mellow out. “So, Lauren, your mother tells me you own your own boutique.” He eyed her dress. “A nostalgia shop?”
Didn’t they already have this conversation back at her house? “A retro boutique,” she clarified, taking a sip of the wine. “I sell authentic vintage clothing.”
“Ah. I get it. The outfit is advertising.” He raised his glass to her. “Smart business woman.”
