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The Sandcastle Steakhouse is one of the most expensive restaurants in Texas. It also lives up to its name, with large windows facing the open sea and rows of glittering chandeliers reflecting the light off the water.
The sun is just beginning to set, so the scattered sun rays on the ocean's surface are an array of golds and oranges. The restaurant's inside is much more muted, but its style is still classic. Crystal sconces shaped like seashells and simple white tablecloths lined with a waving blue trim.
It's beautiful. A place a woman like Denise deserves to be.
As I expected, the hostess eventually spots my name in her book.
"Mr. Cooper," she says brightly. Then she grabs a pair of menus from beneath her station and hands them to a waitress. "Please follow Caroline to your table, sir. And enjoy your meal."
"You really didn't have to go through all of this trouble just for me," Denise says after we've been seated. "I would have been happy with somewhere casual."
Plucking up my menu, I begin to peruse it casually. "It's no trouble, Denise. And even if it was, you're worth it."
Her face flushes at my words, and she decides to change the subject. "What made you pick this place, anyway?"
I shrug. "I'm technically in town on business, and my company booked me a room here."
Her eyebrows rise up her forehead. "Wow. That must be some company you work for. This is one of the most expensive hotels in Texas."
Taking a sip of my water, I say, "I declined it because I wanted to stay with my brother. But they'd still ordered a few meals for me at the hotel's restaurant, the Sandcastle Steakhouse." I smirk at her. "For strictly business purposes, of course."
Denise rolls her eyes. "Of course."
Our drinks arrive quickly, and the waitress pours us two glasses of shining white wine. I hold up my glass for a toast. "To business," I tease.
Snickering, she clinks her glass to mine. "Is that what this is?"
"Of course. You said you wanted to celebrate your meeting with Tinsley going so well."
"That's true." Her giddiness from the back room of the Sugar Breeze returns, lighting her eyes up as brightly as the sun-treated sea outside. "I still can't believe it."
"You should believe in yourself a bit more," I say. "You do great work."
That thick feeling slips into my chest once again. A flash of guilt. I try to swallow it down.
"Well, thank you." Denise blushes deeper this time and puts her wine glass to her mouth as if to hide it. After taking a sip, she asks, "So what kind of business does a man have to do to earn his way to a free meal at the Sandcastle Steakhouse anyway?"
I feel myself pale and take a big sip of my own. "Investments," I finally answer, hoping that's innocuous enough. I'm not ready for her to know more. I don't have a good, balanced solution to this yet. "That's how I know Tinsley. I help manage her account, make sure she's putting her money in good places, spending it wisely."
"Oh. So, you're purely a numbers guy."
"Always have been." I puff out my chest and raise my chin. "You are looking at one of the Texas state champions in mathletics from 1992, after all."
She snorts into her glass, nearly spilling it. "Geez. I had no idea you were such a nerd."
Our waitress is timely and attentive with our orders, and our food arrives within ten minutes of placing them. I ordered the lobster thermidor and a side of gazpacho soup. Denise has gone simpler, with a crab ravioli and a small salad.
Once the waitress has left, Denise looks down at her plate and laughs. "I should have ordered something less messy," she giggles, running her fork through the pile of sauce before her.
I laugh with her. "It doesn't matter to me. Make all the mess you want."
And even though she blushes a little again, she insists, "It's not you that I'm worried about. This is my nicest dress."
Swallowing a spoonful of my soup, I say, "If you need it to be dry-cleaned, just send me the bill."
But this offer only seems to bother her.
"Please stop doing that," she whispers.
