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Chapter 9: Penelope
Bryce brings me to an exceptionally fancy restaurant. It suddenly occurs to me that he must be loaded. I didn’t think about it much before, but as I look at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the who’s who of fancy people sitting around us, I can’t unsee it.
“What is it?” Bryce asks, coving my hand with his over mine.
“Oh, nothing. It just didn’t occur to me until now that you’ve got a lot of money, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess. Would you rather go somewhere else?”
“No. No. This is fine. It’s just a thought. I-I… you know, I don’t know much about you.”
We take a seat, and Bryce never lets go of my hand.
“Well, how about we start with a few basics.” he says, “I’m originally from Wisconsin. I’m divorced with a son. I love onions but hate garlic, and I’m totally in love with the most amazing woman on the planet.”
I blush and run my finger over the back of his hand.
“That’s nice.” The waiter comes over, pours us some water, and gives us menus.
“Well, I’m from Toronto. I love country music. I like reading romance novels, but I don’t watch rom-coms. I prefer action comedies, and I have the hots for this older guy. He’s a judge and a Daddy.” I wink, and he gives me a wicked grin.
“Hmm, he sounds like a nice guy,”
“The nicest.” I giggle.
I open my menu, and my eyes go straight to the prices.
Fuck me!
“Don’t worry, darling. I’m paying.” Bryce says.
“Damn, right, man. I can’t afford this.”
“I thought it was chivalrous to let women pay now?” he asks.
“Maybe. But I think whoever picks the restaurant should pay.”
We order food and talk more as we wait. Mostly about each other. Bryce tells me how he went from working at an ice cream parlor to going to law school and eventually becoming a judge. I tell him about my time in college and how I’ve been thinking of getting a cat, but I’d have to move. My apartment right now doesn’t allow pets. I tell him about my plans to upgrade my apartment and how I’ve been saving money. I tell him about the places I’ve been looking at, and he suggests that I just move in with him.
“I’ve got a big house, and I allow cats,” he says.
“Really? You want me to move in with you? We’ve only known each other for a few days.”
“Not exactly. I met you when you started dating Cameron. I consider that as part of us knowing each other.”
This is a big step, but I do love Bryce. He has a steady job, and so do I. My lease is coming up for renewal, and he says I can move in right now if I want.
“How about I think about it and get back to you, yeah?”
Bryce looks like he wants to argue about that, but he just nods his head. Our food arrives, and our conversation moves to other things.
When we’re done, and he’s paid the tab, we leave, but he doesn’t take me back to my place. Instead, we go to Bryce’s house and hang out. As I curl in his arms on the couch, I realize I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to have one day without this. This closeness—being held and loved by Bryce. Coming home to him at night and making love before we go to bed. I want that. Every day.
“Yes,” I say.
“What?” Bryce asks, turning down the TV.
“Yes, I’ll move in with you.”
