“My father owns multiple restaurants across the city, and Chef Conti is a good family friend. He’ll be waiting on us personally.”
Tanner takes my coat and hands it to a waiting busboy, then pulls my chair out for me and settles down across the fancy tablescape. The table is tucked far enough back to not be in the way of the choreographed dance of sous chefs and servers but close enough to hear the smattering of Italian words and smell the rows of bubbling pots. I’m not sure if the giddy feeling in my stomach counts as butterflies, but I’ll take it.
Tanner watches me with a large smile, leaning back in his chair. I’m again struck by how small his straight white teeth are in reference to his broad face. Almost all of them show anytime he opens his mouth, like he somehow has more than an average human.So many teeth.
“You like it?”
“Likeit? Tanner, this is awesome!” I try to keep from looking at his mouth while I talk, but my eyes have a mind of their own.
He chuckles. “Good. Chef Conti’s never let any of my family back here before, so this is probably as cool to me as it is to you.”
A first date specific tome. With a wonderfully kind man. With no old ladies or pink feather boas in sight. An entire kitchen with the sounds and smells of Italy—not a stale pretzel from a street vendor.
And yet…
“You okay?” Tanner leans forward on his elbows, covering my hand with his on the white starched tablecloth. “You seemed kinda sad all of a sudden. Is something wrong?”
I take in the look of genuine concern on his face, and I remind myself.
If I want something I’ve never had, I’ve got to do something I’ve never done.
“Nothing is wrong.” A deep breath of courage fills my lungs before I turn my palm beneath his and lace our fingers together. “I’m happy to be here with you.”
His eyebrows raise, and a pink tinge smarts behind his blonde stubble. If anyone is feeling butterflies, it’s Tanner. I wonder if he’ll share.
“I have a confession, Kate. When your Dad first told me about you a few months ago at the hospital?—”
Alexa. Add Dad to my hit list.
“You sounded kind of too good to be true. And when we got Vivian Rochester-Chenned, I was mortified but also kind of relieved.” He chuckles. “It’s like you had been a ghost this whole time, and when I finally got to meet you… Well, let’s just say I tried to convince myself to leave a whole lot earlier during Christmas Eve dinner.” Tanner ducks his head, shyly peeking beneath his lashes. “Even though you intimidate the crap out of me, I want to be around you, Kate.”
I smile and try to resuscitate even one measly butterfly. “I’m hardly intimidating.”
He cocks a boyish smile, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “Oh no, you are—and this is putting it mildly—extremely terrifying.”
I almost spit out my water in a laugh. “Terrifying? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
“Nope.” He grins cheekily. “I might have even undersold it.”
I lean coyly across the table, teasing my fingertips across the forearm of his tuxedo jacket. “And what exactly makes mesoscary?”
His hazel eyes track the movement of my fingers on his sleeve, all traces of humor gone. “Because you have this effect on people,” he murmurs, eyes flitting to mine. “On me. I like that you seem to know exactly what you want in life and will stop at nothing to get it.”
I pull my arm back, give him a tiny smile, and sip my water. How does that make me feel? Seen? Or misunderstood? This toothy man knows nothing about me, and yet, the way he gazes at me feels like he knows much more than he’s letting on.
A paranoid thought skirts up my spine: what exactly did Dad tell him about me? Probably only good things, since Dad would rather die than ruin his reputation. But I’m suddenly stripped bare, and I want it to stop. Go back to being playful, not serious.
“Tanner, how do you feel about Truth or Dare?”
His light blonde eyebrows cinch. “Like the game from seventh grade?”
“Or eighth.” I tip a shrug with a smirk. “Pick your poison.”
He looks genuinely bewildered. “You want to play truth or dare?Here? In Chef Conti’s kitchen?” A soft chuckle rumbles out, though his wary eyes watch me like I might bite him or something. “Ohh. I get it. You’re so funny, Kate. Ah—here comes the chef now.” Relief is stamped on Tanner’s face as Chef Conti greets us.
“Doctor Evans! Welcome, welcome.”
Oh. I guess that even though he isn’t a surgeon like my dad, he still must have a doctorate to be a physician assistant. I watchDoctorTanner Evansgive the robust chef a genial smile with all those teeth.
