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“What?” I ask, not masking my surprise.
“Yeah. They asked if I would go on a date with you, but I said no. I don’t do fixed dates or blind dates or anything like that.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“I don’t really get a choice.” I say softly, taking a sip of my drink. “I wonder how things would’ve gone if you had let them set us up.”
“Probably awful. You wouldn’t have trusted me. I would have felt like a jackass letting the label play matchmaker, and I’d probably tried too hard to impress you.”
“When was this?”
“Like two years ago.”
“I probably wouldn’t have eaten anything, drank too much, and ended up puking on your shoes or something.”
“Well, I’m glad I said no. I’m glad this started naturally.”
“This?” I ask softly.
“This beautiful friendship.” He says, throwing back his drink. He waves the bartender back over. “Two more.”
“If it’s a friendship, you should let me pay sometimes.”
“Not a chance, darling.” His lips curl into a smile. I sip the rest of my drink. “Men pay. It’s sexist, but it’s how it should be.” The bartender sets down our drinks. “Now.” He lifts his drink. I pick my drink up and tilt it to his glass. “To a fun night.”
“A fun night.” I say, and we clink our glasses together.
“Sir.” A server comes over. “Your table is ready.”
“Great.” He smiles and throws back the rest of his drink. He holds his hand out for me and helps me down from the stool as I hold my drink.
We follow the server to our tables, where Wes pulls out my chair for me. I drape my purse over it and take a seat. He pushes me in. The server hands us our menus and pours us some water from a glass pitcher setting at our table.
“Would you like to put in a drink order?” The server asks.
“Yes. Please. Black label neat, and she’ll have another lemon drop.”
“Yes, sir.” The server agrees. “I will put those in for you while you go over the menu. Would you like to hear the specials?”
“No, thank you. We are good.” Wes replies.
“I will be back momentarily, then.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Maybe.” He smirks. “I have leftover coke if you need some.”
“So do I.” I say, though I had left mine in the hotel room. “Have you done any yet?”
“No. I’m just in a good mood.” He smiles. “I’m having dinner with my very beautiful best friend. Life is pretty good.” He picks up a menu. “What would you like to eat?”
“Uh.” I pause, staring at the menu. I know I need to pick it up and look it over. I need to pick out something to eat, and actually eat it, but now faced with that task, it seems impossible. “I have to get dessert too.”
“Part of a deal?” I nod. “They have amazing sticky toffee pudding.” He adds, looking through the menu.
I continue to stare at the menu, wishing so badly I could just look at it like a normal person, without trying to find the smallest thing on the menu to eat.
“I’ll order for you. Do you like salmon?” I shrug unable to open my mouth. “Will you eat it?” He asks and I nod. “Portions here are small, but the food is really good. I’m hoping good enough to distract you from the fact you are eating.”
“I’m sorry.” I say softly, looking down at my lap.
