“What do I do, then?”
Ginelle grins. “First off, and I know this is going to sound crazy, you can just ask her what she likes.”
“Fuck you,” I say with a smile.
“Or better yet, ask what she doesn't like. Usually, that's a shorter list. But if you want something close, The Barrel is a good option, just down the block, nice-adjacent without being over the top.” She thinks for a second. “Or Masala, you know Mr. Joshi will hook you up.”
“Yeah, not sure overloading on potato naan is the right call here.” Though it is amazing, and he does give my family a little extra every time.
She shrugs, “So as long as she doesn't hate a good truffle fry—and if she does, she's a monster and you should run—just go to The Barrel.”
I nod, releasing a sigh as I force my muscles to relax.
Ginelle walks over and cups my face in her hands. “Don't overthink this. Just have a good time.”
“Thanks. Seriously.”
“You know I always got your back.” She playfully punches me in the chest.
Before she heads out the door, I call, “And do not tell Lucy or Oliver.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves me off without a second glance.
I massage the bridge of my nose, accepting that I'd be fielding a barrage of questions from my best friends tomorrow morning at the very latest.
“You know,when you said this place was called The Barrel, I had my doubts.” Toni looks around at the warm wood paneling and brass accents while I try not to stare. The ambient amber light filling the space makes the woman across from me look more radiant than anyone has a right to. “But it's cute.”
“Cute as in, ‘Wow, this is the worst, but I don't want to hurt this strange man's feelings,’or?—”
“Cute as in it's actually cute,” Toni says.
I lean across the table a bit, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If it was the other, this was my cousin's suggestion, so I won't be offended.”
“Dinner was your cousin's suggestion, huh?” She takes a shallow sip of her cocktail. “If you happen to be referring to the tall blonde, she could tap in, and I wouldn't be mad.”
I place a hand over my heart. “If I were a less evolved man, that might hurt.”
“But you're above that sorta thing.”
“Exactly.” I wonder if she knows how powerful the dimple on her right cheek, that pops up with every little smirk, is. “But I refuse to give Ginelle credit for the whole idea. Dinner? All me. I just didn't quite have the logistics locked down.”
“And she generously volunteered to help?”
“Enthusiastically.”
“Invested in your social life, is she?”
I snort into my whiskey. “Invested is a nice way to put it.” Toni cocks her head questioning. “That side of my family is very Italian, very Catholic, and very nosy. If meddling were an Olympic sport, they'd all be gold.”
“You and your cousin just happen to work at the same bar, or...?” Toni asks.
“It's my family's place. For better or worse, it usually means a lot of family running things.”
“Do you like it?”
I can't help the wistful smile. “Much to my inner teenager's dismay, I love it.” I'd gone to extreme lengths to avoid ending up right where I was now. Funny how things work.
“Our teenage selves didn't have fully developed frontal lobes, it's ok for them to be a little let down sometimes.”
