“Please, prove that again. Wouldn’t mind sneaking another taste of you,” he says, before pulling me toward the hostess.
I don’t have time to respond to his blatant flirting—that’s flirting, right?—because we’re ushered through the restaurant until we’re shown to a seat by a window that gives us a great view of the bustling Chinatown.
Before I can reach for my chair, JP pulls it out for me and then takes a seat across from me. When I glance in his direction, he just gives me a shrug and picks up his menu, placing it in front of his face.
Don’t overthink it, Kelsey. Just have fun.
My phone buzzes and I say, “I bet that’s Lottie texting back, can I look at it?”
“You don’t need my permission. Have at it. Hey, do you know if this tea is any good?”
“Uh... I don’t think I’ve had it before,” I say and then pick up my phone and read the text message.
Lottie:OMG! He took you to Dim Sum Star? Why did that just make my heart flutter? How did he know?
I glance up at JP, who’s immersed in the menu, so I text back.
Kelsey:Heard us talking about it. Thought I’d want to revisit it.
Her response is immediate.
Lottie:Umm... is he thoughtful?
Kelsey:I think he’s just trying to show me he’s not the asshole I’ve claimed he is.
Lottie:He’s definitely not, with that kind of dinner surprise. Well, have fun. Don’t get the tea, remember, Mom gagged on it.
Oh, that’s right.
“Don’t get it,” I nearly shout while holding my arm out to him.
He peeks over the menu, his dark brows pulling together.
“Jesus... don’t get what?”
My cheeks heat up as I realize how insane I must have just sounded. “Uh, the tea. Lottie just reminded me that Mom got it and gagged on it. So, maybe skip the tea.”
“Okay.” He eyes me weirdly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I offer him a smile. “Just fine.”
“Okay,” he drags out.
We spend the next few minutes deciding what we want to order. They no longer cart the food around but bring the items you choose. We pick out a few dishes that we’re both interested in and then, once our waitress heads back to the kitchen, I take a sip of my water.
“So, this is your ideal night out? Chasing after a girl’s dream restaurant?”
“No. Getting dim sum in Chinatown is a must.”
“Don’t you think... that’s slightly touristy?”
“Probably,” he answers. “If I was taking you out, you know, on a date, I would’ve taken you to the Parkside Club.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“A restaurant at the top of the Parkside Building. We own it.”
“Naturally.” I laugh.
