Dinner was a three-course affair with Bob and Jesse dominating the conversation. David tried to picture Zita there and couldn’t. There was no way she’d sit quietly while Bob and Jesse discussed politics. Her opposing opinion would make it an interesting evening.
He shouldn’t be thinking about Zita meeting his parents. He didn’t bring women home to meet his family and he wasn’t even dating Zita yet.
At the end of the night, David said his goodbyes.
“We’re still going to high tea on Sunday, aren’t we?” Fay asked as she kissed him.
“Of course.” It was their monthly ritual at the most expensive hotel in Houston. David would have preferred to meet in a café for coffee and cake, rather than having all the fiddly little desserts they served, but his mother insisted on the best. She was very conscious of what people thought of her, and David didn’t want to disappoint her.
With a wave to the others, he got in his car and drove home.
***
Zita had been looking forward to tonight all week, and it wasn’t just because she was getting away from Casa Flanagan. After parking her car, she checked her reflection in the rear view mirror. She hoped she was dressed fancy enough for the restaurant, but either way she felt great. She was going to dinner with the sexy David Randall.
Their sizzling kiss had been on her mind every night as she fell asleep. She’d thought about it so often that there was a real chance she’d blown it out of proportion, but tonight she’d discover if he did kiss as well as she remembered.
She got out and entered the restaurant. Everyone raved about The Wooden Spoon, but she’d never been there. Five-star restaurants weren’t in her budget.
The spicy, warm aromas of delicious food hit her senses first, and Zita inhaled deeply as she glanced around. The furnishings were sumptuous. The carpet was thick and soft under her feet and the walls were an earthy tone, covered in artwork, much of it Native American. Everything was classy, from the crisp white tablecloths to the dim mood lighting.
David was sitting at a table by the wall, reading the menu. She studied him for a moment. He was wearing a deep blue, button-down shirt and the color suited him. His blond hair was styled in the messy, just-got-out-of-bed look that she suspected took an age to perfect, but suited him perfectly.
“Hi,” she greeted him as she reached the table.
He grinned, pushed back his chair and stood. “You look fantastic.”
The appreciation warmed through her, as did his kiss on her cheek. “Thanks. So do you.”
He pulled out her chair and she sat. He had old school charm. It was a nice change.
As David sat back down, he asked, “Have you been here before?”
“No, but I’ve heard good things.” The chef specialized in indigenous food. Zita couldn’t wait to taste it.
They fell silent as they read the menu and when the waiter arrived they ordered.
“How was your week?” Zita asked.
“Fairly average. Lots of meetings.” He smiled as he said it.
“What is it you do?”
“I’m the Chief Financial Officer at Dionysus Oil and Gas.”
“Is that like an accountant?” She had no idea. Big business wasn’t her thing.
He laughed. “That’s what I started out as. Now I oversee the whole financial side, but there are more politics and meetings to deal with than actual crunching numbers.”
“Do you miss it— the crunching numbers?”
He was silent a moment. “Not at all.”
Intrigued, Zita asked, “Why did you become an accountant then?”
“Dad wanted me to have a good understanding of financials for when I take over Dionysus.”
“So you’ll become CEO one day?”
