The Right Way by May Archer

Author:May Archer [Archer, May]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Do you like calamari? Because they do a calamari, grapefruit, and avocado bruschetta antipasto that is to die for, I swear!”

Drew rested his elbow on the table, and cradled his chin in his hand as he watched his date pore over the menu with the same obvious excitement he’d shown for Drew’s simple attire of jeans and a deep green cashmere sweater, the rustic but elegant restaurant decor, and the football game, which apparently the Patriots were winning at the half.

West Kitchen, a fairly new fusion restaurant Drew had eaten at several times, was impressive as always - dark wood tables, snow-white linens, twinkling fairy lights, and conscientious servers. Mark was as objectively hot as ever in a dark blue suit, to the point where Drew almost wanted to take a selfie to send Peter.

But sadly, the most interesting part of the date for Drew thus far was the comical way Mark kept over-pronouncing the Italian words. He couldn’t help but wish that Sebastian were here, if only so they could share a commiserating glance every time Mark trilled out “brrrruschetta.”

Mark glanced up at him expectantly, and Drew realized he’d missed a question. He quickly backtracked, forcing out a smile. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I like calamari.”

“Oh, that’s great! See, I knew we would get along!” Mark beamed. His phone beeped and he slid it out. “Pats scored again!”

Drew nodded, drawing a pattern on the linen tablecloth with his forefinger. “That’s great.”

“Celebration time!” Mark announced, and Drew stifled a sigh as Mark lifted a finger to signal their waiter.

“A bottle of Cristal, please. Something from before… let’s say, 2006.” Mark smiled wide, like the world’s most pretentious shark, and Drew imagined what Bas would have said about celebrating a football score with a $200 bottle of champagne.

“We have a 2005, sir,” the waiter offered.

“Perfect,” Mark agreed, delighted. He looked at Drew and blinked as the waiter departed. “Oh, I suppose I should have checked with you! You do like champagne, don’t you?”

All the blinking made him look like a turtle. A turtle wearing a curly brown wig. And his dirty-green eyes seemed dull and… even a little bit smug. Nothing like the intelligent fire in a certain pair of blue eyes.

“Not much, no. But then, I don’t really drink that often, and hardly ever on a first date,” Drew told him with a small smile. “You go ahead.”

Mark pouted, sticking his lower lip out. “But champagne’s no fun unless you share it. You’ll have one glass, won’t you?”

“Oh. No, I really…”

“One tiny little glass,” Mark insisted. “It’s just that I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to get you on this date. You have no idea. We need to celebrate!”

Ugh. Drew had been afraid of exactly this - encouraging Mark by agreeing to this date. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings, but as he’d once told Bas, he could only be guilted so far.

“One glass,” he agreed, firmly intending to dump the glass into the small potted tree that the universe had conveniently placed just inches from their table.

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