“I’m so glad you didn’t show up in a limo,” I told Tori when we slid into the back seat of the SUV. “I thought for sure you would.”
“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” Tori looked proud of herself.
“Good call. Where are we going?” I asked.
“Maison de Lumiere.”
My eyes widened. So much for our low-key date. “That’s super expensive.”
Tori shrugged. “I wanted to take you some place nice.”
I suppressed a sigh. I appreciated the sentiment, honestly I did, but I was not a ‘some place nice’ girl. Growing up in the intentional community, I’d learned to distrust two things: authority and wealth. Going to some fancy restaurant triggered something inside me, not exactly an insecurity, but a discomfort for sure.
We were mostly quiet as the bodyguard I recognized from her last visit drove us through the city. He pulled into the alley behind the restaurant, and I was momentarily confused until I realized it must be to keep people from seeing Tori.
He led us to the back door, which opened immediately like they were waiting for us to arrive. A man who identified himself as Pierre, the owner, appeared, fawning over Tori and ignoring me as he led us up to an elevator that took us to the top floor of the building. The floor to ceiling windows offered some of the best views of the Seattle skyline, one of the things people liked about this place.
“Where is everyone?” I asked in confusion as we entered the deserted dining room.
“I rented out the whole place so we could have some privacy,” Tori said, like it was nothing. Like it was the equivalent of picking up an extra Happy Meal instead of blocking out fifty tables at a place that had a six month waiting list to get in.
We were seated at a table by the window, a bottle of wine already chilling in an ice bucket next to the table. Other than Rick sitting at a table across the restaurant, his eyes scanning the space as hedrank a bottle of water, Tori and I were alone. Wait staff would slip in and out, obsequious and attentive, then disappear again.
I supposed this was the norm for her because Tori seemed completely comfortable. She looked super sexy tonight in dark washed skinny jeans, knee high boots with a spiky heel, and a low cut white blouse that did little to hide the sexy white lace bra beneath.
“Is something the matter?” Tori asked midway through our salads.
“This is just strange, being here alone,” I said. “What about all the servers and kitchen staff who didn’t get a shift tonight because of us?”
Tori frowned, like she’d never thought about that, then waved Rick over.
“He’ll make sure that Pierre is paying his team and not just keeping all the money for himself.” She gave Rick a look. “Including the people who lost a shift tonight since they didn’t have a full restaurant.”
That made me feel somewhat better. I was excited to see Tori, more excited than I thought I’d be, but this formality wasn’t us. I was used to eating peanut butter sandwiches with her and snuggling on the couch, not closing restaurants and eating tiny bits of whatever fancy food they were bringing us.
“You hate it here, don’t you?” Tori asked.
I wanted to lie, but I couldn’t, so I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “I love that you did this, really I do. But I would have been happy hitting the taco truck and taking a walk by the lake.”
She shrugged like it was no big deal either way. “We can do that.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Sure, I’ve got a disguise in the car. Let’s go.”
After making excuses to the restaurant owner and assuring him that nothing was wrong with the restaurant, a confused Rick followed us back to the SUV. Tori tucked her hair into a hat, pulled on a simple rain jacket, and put on a pair of clear framed glasses. It changed her appearance enough that no one gave her a second look as we ordered tacos at my favorite food truck. I’d been hoping for a walk, but it was pouring, so we decided to take the tacos back to my place.
The next three months passed quickly. Every weekend Tori would come up on Friday night and we’d spend the weekend either hanging out at my apartment or sneaking around Seattle. We didn’t do anything too risky, but whenever we went out, we made sure that Tori was in disguise. Every once in a while someone would look at her a little too long, as if they thought she looked familiar, but no one questioned her, or the hulking guy who trailed us everywhere we went.
Rick wasn’t happy about these frequent visits, but after he convinced the owner of the building to let him put a high level security system in my apartment, he backed off, especiallybecause we spent the bulk of our time in my apartment anyway. Like me, Tori was a bit of a homebody.
I was teaching Tori how to cook, and she insisted that I see some of her favorite movies – none of which were movies she starred in. That told me a lot about her personality, the way she could appreciate and elevate movies with other stars.
The only point of contention between us was the gifts. Every weekend Tori arrived with a gift for me, and at least twice a week more gifts would arrive for me at Morning Jolt. Huge bouquets of flowers. A cactus. A scarf that I was pretty sure cost more than my entire wardrobe. Cute rainboots with little smiley faces on them. A stuffed Scooby Doo that was practically life sized. And once, a rare first edition of one of my favorite books.
The gifts were all incredibly thoughtful. I knew she picked them out herself, given that they were all related to conversations we had together. But it was too much. I wasn’t comfortable having her spend her money on me, something I mentioned multiple times. I didn’t like the power imbalance it created.
“I don’t want you to spend your money on me,” I told her. “It’s all too much, and completely unnecessary.”
