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“Yes, seems there was a misunderstanding. Is my table still available?” Bentley asks respectfully.
The young man nods. “Of course, sir. I’ll have some new waters brought out for you and your guest.”
Bentley nods and presses his hand lightly over my lower back. I stiffen from his touch and wish he would have just led the way by walking in front of me.
Instead, we stay side by side until we’re at a table for two near the back. It’s quiet and dim and private. I don’t like it.
Plus, I know I’m a wreck and feel like everyone is staring at me. I barely brushed my hair, and there are wrinkles in my dress pants that I hate. Hopefully, my makeup is at least still where it should be.
Bentley waits until I sit before taking his seat, then a server arrives with two waters. A lemon rests on top of the ice, and I pick it out before the tangy taste can taint my drink.
The server raises a brow at me but says nothing as she tucks a strand of loose blonde hair behind her ear and sets the menus down. “I’ll be back in a few to get your order.”
She disappears, but not before giving Bentley a once-over.
I keep quiet and place my lemon on the white tablecloth, uncaring if it’s not the right thing to do in the fancy restaurant. I’ve heard of this place before and thought it was just a nice Italian eatery, but apparently, there’s a reason I’ve never been here prior to today.
I don’t really fit in.
Without looking at Bentley again, I grab the menu and glance over the options. I spot lobster and grin at the one-hundred-dollar price tag, but when my stomach grumbles again, I go for something I know I’ll enjoy: chicken alfredo with a side salad and bread.
When I set the menu down, Bentley is staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
His jaw tightens and eyes narrow while he looks me over. “What happened?”
I give my head a small shake, ignoring the warmth simmering in my core. “Don’t insult me by asking a question that you don’t care about the answer to. I don’t know why you wanted this lunch, but I know it’s not to catch up about our lives.”
He leans forward. “You think you know me so well?”
My eyes roam over him. “I know enough.”
The server returns, setting a basket of bread in the middle of the small table, then angles her body toward Bentley. “Have we decided what we want?”
Her voice is sweet, but he’s still staring at me. “Ladies first.”
Reluctantly, the server turns toward me. I keep my eyes locked on Bentley for a second longer, then address the server. “I’ll take the chicken alfredo and a side salad with no onions, please.”
She nods and writes down a few notes before Bentley gives his order.
“I’ll have the alfredo but with shrimp. Oh, and I’ll take extra onions on my salad.” He reaches across the table and takes my menu before handing them both to the server, still without looking away from me.
She sighs softly. “I’ll have the salads out in just a few.”
When she leaves, I chuckle. “I’m not eating my salad, thanks to you.”
His head cocks. “What did I do?”
I nod toward where the server disappeared to. “You ignored her. She’s going to be annoyed by that, but she won’t take it out on you. No, she’ll mess with my food.”
“Then, you can have mine,” he says easily.
My lips thin. “No way. Not when you asked for extra onions. That’s the devil’s food right there.”
Bentley laughs. The sound is deep and makes my chest vibrate.
“That’s a bit dramatic. I’m sure your salad will be fine,” he says.
