“Would you like to split entrees?” He asks.
“You don’t mind?” I ask in return.
“Not at all. But if you steal food off my plate, we’re at war.” He replies.
“Noted.” I say as the host waves us forward and directs us to a window table. The wooden table and benches are a pale oak worn smooth from use. And the pendant light hanging above the table casts a warm light around us. Glancing about I notice several framed black and white photos hanging on the walls and the back wall has a vibrant painting of Bangkok at night. Bright neon lights highlighting the river and the skyline.
The host hands us our menus and dashes back to his stand. Oliver waves the menu and asks, “Do we even need these?”
“Yes, I need to scope out the dessert selection.” I say.
“Coconut pudding?” He asks.
“Or fried banana with ice cream.” I reply.
“Both?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Both is good.” I agree.
Splitting the meal was the perfect idea. From the curry and peanut butter chicken to the dessert everything was delicious. I wasn’t surprised in the least after all the rave reviews I had heard in the office. What had surprised me was Oliver’s interest in my life. I had invited him to dinner on a whim and had half expected him to ghost me.
It wouldn’t have been the first time it had happened. Or the tenth. Dating in the modern era is a constant uphill battle. Online profiles are a nightmare and maintaining interest and conversation via blocks of text has never been my strong suit.
Time seemed to speed past me as I ate dinner with Oliver. As cold and detached as he was in the car, he is as warm and open now.
“Do you want to move back?” He asks after I tell him about my recent move to the city.
“No, absolutely not! I may have been raised in the country, but I was born for the city. My heels can’t be worn in corn fields.” I say with a laugh.
“What about your family? Surely you miss them.” He replies.
Thinking of my parents who are currently aboard a cruise ship headed for Cozumel, I shake my head.
“We’ve never been close. I have two younger sisters and I was the last to move out.” I explain. “I might fly up next Christmas or for my mom’s birthday but for now I think we’re all enjoying the space.”
He wears a frown as he takes another bite of curry. Jumping at the chance to change the topic I say, “Since you gave me your business card, I did an internet search.”
Looking unbothered he nods. Of course, he wouldn’t be surprised in this day and age. Everyone has a digital footprint. Even if his is tiny and impersonal.
“I saw that you work for the family business. Does it help keep your family close?” I ask before spearing a piece of chicken with my fork.
“Yes and no.” He begins, “I started out working as a landscaper part time while I went to college. My father had higher expectations of me than any of his other workers. He’s always been my biggest critic and will never give an inch. Naturally, I am just as stubborn. My mother had to knock our heads together a couple of times.”
He takes another bite of his curry and then continues, “I reckon when my little sister joined, it took his focus away from me. At least until I started handling the books.”
“Surely he was happy to have you take something off his plate?” I ask.
“Not at first. His accounting was a mess. He had receipts and bills scattered around his office in a way that made sense to him and only to him. And that was the least of it.”
Chewing on my curry I think about the similarities we have as the eldest children of our families. The pressure to succeed and to lead by example.
“My parents were disappointed that I went after a college degree when I could have entered a trade instead. It’s always been about money for them, and my sisters make more money than I do.” I share.
“Money ain’t everything.” Oliver is quick to reply.
“Rich coming from a finance guy.” I counter.
“Don’t get me wrong, budgeting is my career.” He says as we finish our entrées and wait for our dessert. “But you can’t attach happiness to money.”
