“You know what,” she lets out a long breath of air. “I think I’m hungry. So, yes, please do.”
The waiter bows before walking away, presumably to get us menus. Mona turns her head to stare at me in challenge. Not sure if she truly is hungry or not, but she’s definitely looking to rattle me now.
I try not to smile, but I don’t think I do a very good job of it because now she looks more annoyed than before.
“I came here prepared for my date to pay for my meal,” she says. “And since he can’t make it, and you invited yourself in his place, it is only fair that you paid for my dinner tonight.”
My first instinct, as always, is to inform her that there is no way in hell I would buy her dinner in such an expensive restaurant. Then, I remember that she is right, I did offer.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.”
Her condescending smile falls at hearing my response. She was expecting an argument, and now that I am not giving it to her, she doesn’t know how to react. Her lips purse, and I am positive that she’d like nothing more than to bash me upside the head with the small purse she’s still clutching in her lap.
The waiter reappears with the menus, placing one with a flourish in front of Mona, then doing the same with me.
“I will give you a few minutes to decide,” he says before taking his leave.
Mona opens her menu with a bit of an aggressive move. She flips it back and forth a few times, an adorable small frown forming in between her eyes.
“There are no prices showing on this thing,” she hisses in my direction. In fact, it’s as if she is mad at me because of it, like I had anything to do with the printing of the menus.
“That would be customary given the place has three Michelin stars,” I explain, although, let’s be honest, the lack of pricing on the menus is nauseating.
“Well,” she huffs. “How am I going to know what the most expensive item on this thing is?”
Her question is so surprising that I let out a snort of laughter.
“Are you purposely looking for the most expensive item on the menu?”
If looks could kill, I’d be getting incinerated right about now. “You’re so smart, Alex. No wonder you own your own company.”
The smile freezes on my face. I never told her anything about my business dealings, but she obviously knows more than I’d have expected. I try not to let it bother me. I trust her, and I want her back. That is why I am here tonight, isn’t it?
Thankfully, the waiter shows up again, saving me from having to respond to her comment.
“Are you ready to order or do you need more time?”
Mona slaps a hand over her menu. “I want the most expensive steak you offer,” she tells him. “Since there are no prices on your menus, I have a hard time deciding what that would be.”
The waiter doesn’t skip a beat when he smiles and bows to her. “What sides would you like with that, miss?”
She taps a finger to her lips while she thinks on it. “The most expensive ones you have.”
“Any allergies our chef should be aware of?”
She frowns at that, like she’s not sure if she is allergic to anything.
“No allergies,” she finally says. “But about those sides, no Brussels sprouts. I don’t like them.”
“So noted.” He bows again before turning my way in expectation. “And you, sir?”
The thought of spending hundreds of dollars on food that you end up expelling only a few short hours later is giving me the sweats. It’s not that I don’t have the money; it’s already been established that I have plenty of money. But old habits are hard to break, and this would be the first time in my life when I am even trying to break this particular habit.
“I’ll have the Mediterranean salad.”
Mona’s eyes widen in surprise right before the corners of her lips lift in a knowing smirk. It is a bit annoying that she can read me so easily.
“Is the lemon vinaigrette suitable, sir? Or would you prefer something different?”
