I take a sip of wine to hide my surprise. "Refreshing how?"
"Direct," Andrew supplies. "No games, no unrealistic expectations. You'd be surprised how rare that is."
I think of Jessica crafting my profile and wonder what exactly she wrote that these two found so appealing. "I believe in being upfront about what I want."
"And what do you want, Lexie?" Brandon leans forward slightly, brown eyes focused on mine with an intensity that sends a pleasant shiver down my spine.
I take another sip of wine. "Honestly? Something simple. Connection without complications."
Andrew nods approvingly. "Precisely what we're looking for as well."
"We've both done the traditional route," Brandon adds. "Didn't work out."
"I know that feeling," I say, relaxing a fraction. Maybe this won't be a disaster after all.
The conversation flows easily after that. We discover shared tastes in music, debates about movies, and a mutual disdain for reality television. Andrew tells stories from his residency days that have me laughing despite myself. Brandon reveals he was almost an Olympic swimmer before an injury derailed his plans.
They're charming, attentive, and genuinely interesting. When our entrees arrive, I'm almost disappointed that we have to pause our conversation to eat. Then I taste the food.
"This is delicious," I say after sampling my seafood risotto.
"Martin's never disappoints," Andrew agrees, cutting into his steak. "Though I hear the chef is considering a move to Chicago next year."
"Speaking of business changes," Brandon says, setting down his fork, "what exactly do you do, Lexie? Your profile mentioned a small business?"
"I design and sell clothing," I explain, warming to my favorite topic. "Mostly sweaters and accessories. It's a one-woman operation at the moment, but I'm hoping to hire help soon."
“Fascinating.” Brandon's eyes light up. "So you work from home?"
"My apartment doubles as my studio," I nod. "Not ideal, but it keeps overhead low until I can justify the expense of a separate workspace."
"Do you have insurance?" The question comes abruptly from Brandon, his tone shifting subtly.
I blink. "Insurance?"
"For your business," he clarifies, reaching for his wine. "Home-based businesses often fall into a coverage gap. Your renter's policy likely excludes business activities."
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. "I haven't really thought about it."
"You absolutely should," Brandon says, his enthusiasm growing. "Especially with inventory in your living space. One fire, one burst pipe, and you could lose everything."
Andrew clears his throat. "Perhaps we could discuss something more?—"
"No, this is important," Brandon insists, turning back to me. "As it happens, my firm specializes in small business coverage. We could put together a package that would protect both your inventory and your liability exposure."
The wine turns sour in my mouth as realization dawns. "Are you... trying to sell me insurance? Right now? On our date?"
Brandon's smile doesn't falter. "I'm just offering to help protect something you've obviously worked hard to build."
"Brandon," Andrew says, his voice carrying a plea that suggests this isn't the first time. But it might be the first time someone puts a pasta fork through his partner's hand.
"What? It's a genuine concern." Brandon reaches down beside his chair and produces a slim leather portfolio that I hadn't noticed before. "I actually brought some materials that outline our small business packages."
He opens the portfolio and slides out glossy brochures, spreading them across the table between our wine glasses anddinner plates. The company logo gleams under the restaurant lighting, mocking me.
"These premiums are extremely competitive," Brandon continues, completely oblivious to my stunned expression. "And given your specific situation of operating from a residential space, I'd recommend our comprehensive package that includes?—"
"Excuse me," I cut him off, placing my napkin beside my half-eaten risotto. "I need to use the restroom."
