AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dwayne squinted at him. “If Johnson needs us to save him, I wouldn’t think bad manners would be an issue.”
Zorro considered Dwayne’s comment as I watched them with an open mouth. This was a bit much.
“I see how you could come to that conclusion, Dwayne, but I still think manners count,” Zorro replied.
“Fine,” Dwayne said, giving in. “Just yell the word karma.”
I giggled. There was no way I was going to need saving. I was a big boy and Luigi’s was a public place. Kurt had promised I wasn’t about to spend the evening with a convict. I believed him.
“Will do,” I said, shooing my BFFs away. “Please don’t make your presence obvious. I’m sure Boutonniere Man will be perfectly pleasant.”
We exchanged quick hugs and the boys walked over to the hostess to be seated. I glanced around for a man with a rose in his lapel and didn’t spot him. Wouldn’t it be the irony of all ironies if he ghosted me? Whatever. Someone I didn’t know couldn’t hurt my feelings. I’d just pop over to Dwayne and Zorro’s table and enjoy a tasty meal.
However, much to my horror, Helen, Dracula and Countess Plasma had the same idea as my other friends. They’d obviously worked fast during my exchange with Dwayne and Zorro and had procured themselves a table on the far end of the front patio. What the hell were they thinking? None of them even ate food for the love of everything just wrong.
I actually felt sorry for my date. If he made the slightest slip-up, he was going to end up pecker-less. This was a shitshow waiting to happen.
Ignoring that I knew a fair amount of the guests on the patio, I walked up to the hostess stand. A gentleman with an enormous black mustache, twinkling eyes and a red suit greeted me. I pegged him as a werebear immediately.
“Johnson Jones! What an honor to have you at my establishment,” he said warmly, shaking my hand.
I quickly checked his lapel for a rose. There was no rose. How did he know my name?
“I’m sorry,” I said with a hesitant smile. “Have we met?”
“I’m Luigi and this is my restaurant. I was in the audience at your fashion show with my wife and daughters! Wonderful! We’re big fans.”
My smile was now wide. I kept forgetting how much people loved caftans. It was delightful. “Thank you, Luigi. Your restaurant is my favorite in Manhattan.”
“Of course, it is,” he said, ushering me over to a table set for two. “I am the greatest chef alive! Ask my mother!”
His bellow of laughter made me join him. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
And then I saw the table. My gut clenched and my hands grew clammy. I was pretty sure I was sporting a sweat mustache that would rival Luigi’s.
The table was exquisite—too exquisite for a first date with a stranger. There was a crystal vase filled with a colorful array of roses. Pink, red and peach petals were artfully strewn all over the pressed and pristine white tablecloth. Petals also surrounded the table. It was beyond.
“Umm… this must be someone else’s table,” I muttered, pressing the bridge of my nose. I considered shouting karma, but swallowed it back. Luigi was great and I didn’t want to be on the list of people banned from his establishment. That would suck. The food was to die for.
“No!” Luigi assured as he pulled out my chair to seat me. “Your gentleman came in earlier and decorated himself.”
“Shit,” I mumbled, sitting down. Boutonniere Guy was over the top. I didn’t need this after the disasters of the last couple of days. Telling him I was only looking for friendship when he’d gone to all this trouble seemed mean. Crap. I was going to have to give the guy a chance. Granted, he wasn’t getting into my pants—or caftan to be more accurate—just because he’d decorated a gorgeous table.
“May I get you something to drink?” Luigi asked.
I nodded. “Do you have wine coolers?”
“But of course,” he replied. “Strawberry or peach?”
“Peach,” I said with a relieved smile. “Peach would be lovely.”
“As you wish, Johnson Jones,” he replied and darted back into the restaurant.
I stared at the flowers. As pretty as they were, all of this felt wrong. I wanted Kurt to be sitting across from me. Too bad. So sad. That wasn’t going to happen. I was the new Johnson Jones… the guy who wasn’t going to torpedo his love life. Boutonniere Man was honestly off to a good start. Kurt had chosen well.
“Hello, Johnson,” a familiar voice called out from two tables over. I leaned forward and felt my intestines rumble dangerously.
Cha-Cha and Kiefer were dining at Luigi’s tonight. It was a sad fact that I knew three-fourths of the people on the street-side front patio. However, the fact that Kurt’s mom and brother were here was gas-inducing—as my rumbling stomach loudly pointed out.
