“And you look very beautiful, by the way.” His voice rumbled beside my ear as he pulled a chair out for me. “I would have said it earlier, but I thought I’d lost my voice.”
He pulled out a chair, and I sat, but not before Nathan captured my hand and pressed a kiss on my knuckles. His breath was warm, and my insides danced again.
“Better?” he murmured as he took a seat beside me.
I smiled. “You’re a quick study, boyfriend.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, those chocolatey eyes definitely twinkled.
I decided that maybe this whole pretend relationship gig wouldn’t really be that hard. Then I looked at the menu and barely understood a thing.
Quail eggs. Foie gras. Wagyu.
It was a foreign language.
Thiswas what it meant to be a part of high society? What was wrong with pasta and salad?
“Oh, there’s one,” I murmured with relief as I spotted something familiar. “Okay, I’ll try that.”
“What’s that?” Nathan asked.
I pointed to the rigatoni. And uni with truffled black pearls, whatever those were. Anything was good with pasta.
Nathan glanced at the item, then looked up at me. “Oh. Actually, it’s a tasting menu, so you’ll get to try everything. They just give you this so you know what’s coming.”
“Oh.”
I went back to studying the menu again. I wasn’t able to get through it as fast as everyone else, so I set it down, not wanting questions about why Nathan’s dumb date couldn’t read a menu without murmuring the words to herself or tracing the lines with one finger. I did, however, spot a number at the bottom. One that made my mouth drop open.
“Nathan,” I whispered when everyone else was busy chattering about their latest stock portfolio or whatever rich people like to discuss.
He turned to me again. “What?”
A few of his colleagues looked at me curiously. I didn’t want to embarrass him, so I pointed at the number.
“It’s…a lot,” I said quietly. “And that’s per person?”
He nodded.
I gulped. “Are you sure we can afford this?”
To his credit, Nathan didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He just examined me for a moment, then plucked the menu from my hands and set it on the plate in front of me.
“Just enjoy yourself,” he said as he slid his arm around my chair.
His fingers grazed my neck, toying with the curl that I couldn’t quite keep pinned in place.
I shivered again. And not unpleasantly.
“Welcome to Per Se,” said the server who had just arrived at the table. “I see some of you already have drinks, but can I refill a few cocktails or get anyone a different beverage?”
“We’ll probably get a bottle or two for the table if there is something you’d recommend with the menu tonight,” said one of the doctors. Shoot, I couldn’t remember his name.
“Giovanna would like something,” Nathan said. “A vodka soda—” He broke off and turned to me. “Isn’t that right?”
I couldn’t help my grin. He’d remembered. Not just my drink, but to ask.
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
