“I couldn’t even call you my boyfriend in front of a friend I’ve only known for a few years. That’s a problem because my family, my meddling, eagle-eyed family, will notice.”
Duncan spotted Graham walking back to their table. “Okay, let’s practice.”
“What—”
“Are you ready to order?” Graham asked, poised with a pen and a notepad.
Duncan sat up straight and said, “Yes, I’ll get any tea that’s decaf, and mygirlfriendherewill get…”
Retta’s eyes widened, and she looked between their waiter and him before saying, “I’ll get the same as myboyfriend.”
Graham’s gaze flicked upward. “Coming right up.”
“See, not bad,” Duncan said when they were alone.
“Except it sounds like we’re reading from a teleprompter.”
“We’re practicing,” he said, spinning the massive menus on the table around and around. “What about terms of endearment? Which ones do you like?”
“Any but the ones that are food related. Suga, pumpkin, muffin. You’d be surprised how many people randomly started using those when I became a baker.”
Their waiter returned with their tea before Duncan could reassure her that those weren’t his style.
“Here you go,” Graham said, sliding the cups and teapot in front of them. “Careful. The water is hot.”
“Baby, do you want any sugar?” Duncan asked, taking hold of Retta’s hand on a whim.
She pressed her lips together before saying, “No, babe, I’m good.”
“Uh-ah. Right,” Graham said after a long pause. “Just so you know, you’ll have to order actual food if you’re going to stay.”
The waiter left them to decide, and Duncan opened the large menu. There were too many dissonant choices. At first, he thought the restaurant served Italian food, but Japanese dishes were included halfway down the second page and Mediterranean items on the next.
“This menu is exhausting,” Retta said, slapping the book shut. “Do you want to share an order of fries or something?”
“I’m cool with that,” he said as he continued to scan the humorously confused menu. He didn’t think it could get better until he read the promotional blurb for a contest the restaurant held on a rolling basis.
He looked up at Retta. “Would you do a cake eating challenge?”
“What?” she asked.
He turned the menu and pointed to the section.
She frowned. “You want to do that right now?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“I don’t know. Nausea, bloating, drowsiness—”
“But think about the glory.”
Retta rolled her eyes, but when their waiter returned for their orders, she asked, “Could you tell us more about the cake eating competition?”
“If you can finish the whole cake in twenty-five minutes between the two of you, you won’t have to pay for it. You’ll also get tickets to our annual seafood event, a hundred dollars in cash, and we match that amount to the local children’s hospital.”
Duncan looked at Retta. “See, a good cause.”
“How many people have won?” Retta asked.
