Jen took the hundred-dollar bill, turned it this way and that, then stuffed it in her apron. “She’s working the dinner shift tomorrow night. She’ll be in at four.”
“Thank you.” I smiled again and left.
I plodded back to my office, dodging humans and resisting the urge to take flight. Soaring overhead still alarmed them. Taking off from the sidewalk wouldreallyset them off. I’d have to ask Diego to order something for lunch instead.
At first, I’d thought it was a good idea to regularly visit different restaurants. I was a terrible cook, and I wanted to get to know Kilinis, so my plan solved both problems. But the servers always dropped things and stuttered, so I got delivery or takeout more and more.
I was the friendlier dragon, between me and Niemrin, and the humans were still terrified of me.
When I returned to City Hall, Diego said, “That was a quick lunch.”
“I changed my mind. What was the name of that French restaurant I had a few weeks ago? Could you order me something from there? And get yourself something, too.” I flicked a glance over to the mini fridge he’d requested a few months ago, where he kept his lunch box.
At first, I’d been impressed when Diego told me he brought his lunch every day. Did a family member make it? A small gift of their time, just for him? But no, he said they were his own “leftovers,” which sounded incredibly depressing.
Since he was a competent assistant, a small lunch from me to him seemed an appropriate gift. The familiar font of the restaurant’s menu glowed on his computer screen, proof of his value.
At four o’clock the next day, I double-checked that my perfectly tailored suit was lint free and ensured none of the threads on the embroidery had snagged throughout the day. Then I returned to Norma’s Kitchen. Jen greeted me with a soft, “Elle’s section?”
Already, I could see her across the room, talking to a table of four. She was tall for a human, but still so tiny compared to me, her blonde hair in a messy bun. I willed her to turn around so I could catalog her features all over again. Large brown eyes, soft pink lips, that soft, smooth skin that all humans had, so unlike my tough scales.
I nodded, barely able to contain my excitement, and the hostess led me to a table that had already been pulled farther away from the wall and the other patrons to make room for my size and wings. The lone chair that could accommodate me was neatly tucked in, positioned so I could face the restaurant.
Nervously, I sat down. I’d show her I could be generous, that I believed her time was valuable enough to repay her for spending it with me. And after I finished my meal, I’d ask if she’d begin a courtship.
An “arrangement,” I think the humans called it—all the courting apps I’d seen used that term. And Jorge had called his and Movi’s courtship an “arrangement” before he agreed to be her mate.
Elle approached my table, her smile wide and welcoming. Everything in me jerked to attention.
“Welcome back to Norma’s Kitchen, Az’zael. Jen said you might be in today. How are you?” Her smile seemed genuine, but there was a tightness around her eyes.
“You know my name.” A wide grin pulled up the corners of my mouth. Two days ago, she’d mispronounced it when talking to ahuman couple, yet today she’d gotten her tongue around the double-Z sound perfectly.
She frowned. “Everyone knows your name.”
Not like that, they didn’t. “Please, call me Az.” Would she? So far, no human had been brave enough to use my nickname.
She blinked rapidly. “Um, sure, Az.”
Hearing her say it had me feeling like I could take off from the chair without even flapping my wings.
“What would you like to drink?” she asked.
I ordered a beer—I found them a little unpleasant, but they were the drink of choice for so many humans, and I wanted to understand them better—and she returned with it in minutes.
“I know you had the pulled pork sandwich last time, but I thought you might like to try the smoked ribs if you wanted something new? You said you liked meat, and the cook is experimenting with some new seasonings,” she said as she set the beer mug in front of me.
The tips of my wings twitched, delighted that she remembered my preferences and wanted to recommend something. “Yes, I’ll try that.”
“I’ll have it right out for you.” She sailed off to the next table.
4
Elle
“Is he still looking at me?” I hissed at Jen. I wasn’t hiding in the back, but I sure wanted to. Once again, Az’zael hadn’t taken his catlike eyes off me since he entered the restaurant.
“Yep.”
