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“I don’t want a picture,” he said. “The real thing, London. I need to see the real thing.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t think that uniform is getting past these hips. I was never able to get rid of the Freshmen Fifteen, and med school added another ten on top of that, at least.”
“Your hips and everything else about that body is perfect.”
A delightful flutter swept through her belly, and she cursed herself for having such a foolish reaction to his remark. A little flattery from a casual sex partner wasnotsupposed to set off butterflies. Besides, she didn’t need his compliments to be fine with her body. She loved her curves, slight as they were.
“Speaking of adding on pounds, I don’t think you’re going to make your adult dinner,” London said. She pointed in the direction of several food trucks that were parked across the street. “That’s probably your best bet.”
“Do you have something against sitting in a proper restaurant and eating with real utensils?” Drew asked.
“I’m trying to help you out here,” she said. “I’m still full from that pretzel, so I wasn’t planning on having dinner with you anyway.”
“You weren’t planning on having dinner with me because you think it will mean we’re going steady or something.”
“Going steady?” She laughed. “Have you been watching sitcoms from the fifties? It wasn’t called ‘going steady’ even when we were in school.”
“I don’t care what you call it. Sharing a meal doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Drew said.
“If it’s not a big deal, why are you so pressed about the fact that I won’t have dinner with you?”
“Because I want to sit across the table from you and talk like—”
“Like two people on a date,” she said.
“Fine. Yes. I want to go on a real date with you, London. One hour. Two,” he quickly amended. “Two hours at arealrestaurant. We can talk, we can eat, we can drink wine, and just be like a normal couple—that isn’t really a couple,” he added.
“I’ll consider it, but not tonight. It’s too late to get a reservation anywhere good, and if I’m going to agree to have dinner with you, I want five-star dining, Mr. Sullivan.”
“I don’t believe in anything less, Dr. Kelley. And why can’t we go tonight?”
“Because you have so many options just steps away.” She took him by the hand and started for the crosswalk. “Austin’s food truck scene is unlike any in the country. You’ll find more gourmet meals here than you’ll find in restaurants.”
They crossed to the other side of Cesar Chavez and began browsing the menus of the five trucks lining the street.
“What do you feel like?” Drew asked.
“I had the pretzel. I’m good.”
“You cannot convince me you’re full after eating just a pretzel. It was big, but it wasn’t that big.” He glanced over at her. “You don’t have to fit into your old band uniform anymore, remember?”
No, she didn’t, but London doubted any of those trucks offered dishes that a cardiologist would approve of, especially after that carb-loaded pretzel. And the cupcakes earlier in the week. And the breakfast taco she’d picked up on the way to work yesterday. She wouldhaveto make better choices the rest of the week.
They chose a truck selling kebabs and other Middle Eastern fare. London ordered the falafel basket with tzatziki, and Drew got a lamb kebab wrapped in a pita that was about the size of his head. Once they crossed the street again, they happened upon a bench that had just been vacated. It was far enough from where the band was playing for them to hear the music without giving London a headache.
She gestured to Drew’s kebab. “No way are you eating all of that.”
“Wanna bet?” he said, taking a huge bite. He closed his eyes as he chewed, then swallowed. “I will never turn my nose up at a food truck again.”
“Again? So that means you have in the past?”
“I’ve never eaten food from one of these trucks before,” he admitted.
“Goodness.” London looked toward the sky as if searching for answers. “You have your assistant ordering your groceries and you turn your nose up at street food?”
“Not all street food. I did have tacos from the taco shack in my old neighborhood last week. But it was the first time I’ve eaten like that in about a decade.”
“Tell me, Drew, when did you become so pretentious? Was it after the first million, or the first ten million?”
