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“Wow. I feel the same way. But I might be a jerk,” he said, glancing over at me.
“No, I don’t think so. I never take an immediate liking to a man, and I did to you. My gut reactions are usually right. I get a feeling about a person, and I’m rarely disappointed. Except for once. And it was a woman about whom I had unmet expectations. I thought we might be friends, and she disappointed me. I’m talking too much, so just tell me to shut up.”
“I won’t. I like hearing you talk. So far, except for the one thing, we agree on everything.”
“The paint smell.”
“Ha! Exactly. The restaurant I chose is a little old-fashioned. I hope you’ll be okay with it.”
He pulled up to a low, rambling Tudor building with a carved sign that said The Rathskeller.
“Oh, man, I love places like this! Am I dressed up enough?”
“You’re perfect,” he said, looking me over again. “I’m all about comfort, but sometimes it’s nice to get dressed up.”
“I like it, too. Just to remind myself that it’s possible.”
The valet opened my door and offered his hand. Me being me, I’d remember to wash my hands before we ate. Will was right there, offering me his arm, and we walked in together. I felt like an adult for a change, instead of a college student, or an escort.
He’d made reservations, and the table was ready. It was in a secluded corner by a window overlooking a lit pond. Candlelight flickering in the center of the table suggested a special occasion.
“Thank you so much, Will. This is so nice.”
“What do you like to eat?”
“Everything. I love seafood and prime rib. I love dessert,” I said, grinning.
“Do you like wine?”
“Um, is that a trick question?” I asked.
“Ha! You never know if someone is in recovery or has strong feelings about it, so I thought I’d ask before the wine list starts smokin’.”
“I love wine. White, dry, and cold.”
“Got it,” he said. “Me, too. More compatibility.”
“So far, so good,” I said, laughing.
He ordered the grande prime rib, saying “I didn’t get to be this size eating the petite,” and I ordered the fried seafood platter. The dinner was amazing. For dessert, we both got cherries jubilee.
“This is about as old-fashioned a dessert as you can get around here.”
“I hope some of the alcohol burns off, because you might have to carry me out,” I said, so relaxed I could nap.
“We’ll take a walk when we finish.”
“A walk on the beach?”
“A walk wherever you want.”
“I can’t believe I live on the beach. But you’ll wreck your shoes.”
“I have sneakers and sweatpants in the car.”
“Oh, God, am I that obvious?” I asked, sputtering.
“No, not at all. I was just hopeful. And I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
