Nope. Still boring. Tune out.
“So yeah!” she said, with a dimpled smile and a shrug, wrapping up her story a few minutes later. “That’s about it. I guess this is our second official date.”
I smiled, hatching a plan to hit Dean in the wallet. “Well what a special night for you guys. We’d better celebrate. Dean, why don’t you order a nice bottle of champagne while we wait?”
“I loooove champagne!” crooned Casey as I grabbed a wine list from the hostess stand.
“I think we should wait for Jul—”
“Nonsense! Casey, would you say you’re a light-bodied brut girl?” I asked.
“My favorites are the really bubbly champagnes. I like the way it tickles my nose!” she chirped adorably.
“Bubbly brut, got it.” I smiled wide as I found a $600 bottle on the menu. “I think the Selosse would be perfect, don’t you agree Dean?”
For a millisecond I thought I spotted a smirk cross Dean’s lips, a sly acknowledgement that he knew what game I was playing, but when I glanced back, it was gone. Stoic resolve coated his features, drawing a distinct line between where he stood and where I stood. Apart. Separate. We were practically two different species.
The restaurant’s door opened and a frazzled Josephine waltzed in followed by Julian at her heels. They looked love-swept with flushed faces and giant smiles.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Josephine said, squeezing her palms together in a silent prayer that I’d forgive her for being late. “We got held up at the apartment.”
I smirked. “Lose the key to the handcuffs again?”
Casey squealed and leaned forward to bat my arm. “You’re so bad!”
“Excuse me.” The hostess stepped up to our group. “Is everyone in your party present now?”
Dean pushed off the wall. “Yup. Let’s get this show on the road.” He brushed past me, leaving his date behind in favor of leading the group to our table. I watched him walk, wholeheartedly perplexed by him. The hostess tried to make small talk, but his answers were clipped and disinterested.
“I swear he’s not always like this,” Josephine whispered as we walked side by side through the restaurant.
I slid my gaze to hers. “You mean he doesn’t always exude assholery like it’s his job?”
She frowned. “I knew he was a control freak, but I’ve only been around him when he’s in party mode.”
I shrugged, sliding my gaze back in his direction. He’d made it to the table a few steps in front of us and was already pulling out a chair.
“Casey,” he said abruptly, directing her to take the seat beside him. How politely controlling of him.
She sat down like a dutiful date and I nabbed the seat beside her so that I wouldn’t split up the two lovebirds. Julian held out Josephine’s chair and then leaned down to kiss her hair. She smiled up at him adoringly and my stomach twisted at the site. Envy wasn’t a familiar feeling for me and I wasn’t sure how to compartmentalize the sensation. Did I want a boyfriend? I hadn’t thought of it. I was too busy trying to focus on my career. Would I love a one-night stand? Some kickass sex? Absolutely. Unfortunately, the only bachelor I’d met in New York City was Nelson and something told me I should hold out for a man who’d at least showered in the last month. Y’know, draw the line somewhere…
Our waiter appeared in a penguin suit complete with a perfectly placed bow tie. He leaned down to place our menus in front of us and then popped our napkins open with a flourish, draping them over the laps of every female diner. That familiar rush ran through me as I picked up the tavern’s menu. I lived for good food. The way some people got runner’s highs, I got food highs. Reading over a new menu felt like diving into a new book. At a good restaurant like Gramercy Tavern, the menu told a story—one most people tended to overlook, but not me.
“Good evening, everyone. Our specials for today include a pork bolognese with summer squash and basil. We also have smoked trout with cipollini purée and pickled onions.”
“Oh, I’ve heard good things about the pork bolognese,” I said with a smile.
The waiter glanced over at me with an appreciative nod. “It’s one of my favorites. I’ll give you all a few moments to gather your drink orders and then I’ll be back.”
Once he was gone, we all returned to perusing the menu.
“What’s this?” Josephine asked, leaning toward me and pointing to the first item on the menu.
“It’s like a caprese salad, but with sweet peppers added. You’d like it.”
She nodded and pointed to the next thing. “And this?”
I laughed and began to explain the dishes to the table, ignoring Dean’s glares.
“A restaurant like this is known for their specialty items. I’d skip over the summer greens. It’s a glorified salad and you can get that anywhere. For the first course I’d go with the beef tartare or the lobster salad.”