“This just isn’t my ideal night.”
“Uh-huh. You say that as if you have an ideal night in mind.”
“I do.” I pop a fry into my mouth, and my answer causes her to grow a curious look.
She leans forward, her hand supporting her chin as she says, “Oh, please, do tell.”
“I don’t have to tell you,” I say. “I’m going to show you.”
“Show me?”
I nod. “Tomorrow night, when you’re done with your meetings. I’m showing you what my ideal night in San Francisco is.”
She spreads her hand on the table and in a dramatic tone, she asks, “Wait, so this friendship we’re developing, it isn’t just a one-night thing?”
“This isn’t a friendship, it’s a... short-term companionship.”
She laughs out loud, and the addictive sound draws the attention of the tables around us. “Wow, no wonder you’re in charge of the media for Cane Enterprises. You sure know how to spin things. Okay, I’ll bite. This short-term companionship, it’s going to continue tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I answer, taking another fry. Have to admit, this shit is good, despite the goddamn bib. “And I’ll show you exactly what a night out on the town is like.”
“Bet it won’t be better than tonight.”
“Guaranteed it will be.”
“Listen, Julian Prince...” She pauses with a wince, waiting to see if she’s correct. I just shake my head, and her shoulders droop. “I gathered damning evidence of you on a carousel and wearing a bib. Nothing is going to beat this.”
“That’s what you think,” I say before grabbing another crab leg.
* * *
“Okay... admit it, this is good,”Kelsey says around her mouthful of ice cream.
When I first met Kelsey, I thought she was this hot, uptight organizer with a dream to fall in love. But I now realize that she had maintained her guarded, professional façade even when we were hanging out with Huxley and Lottie at their house. But slowly, as this night has unfolded, I’ve seen her relax more and more. She’s now talking to me with ice cream on her lips and fudge on the corner of her mouth.
It’s... hell, it’s endearing.
She’s dropped that shield of perfection and I like this side of her. Sort of unpredictable, and a whole lot relatable.
“Come on.” She nudges me with her elbow and I decide to give in.
“Yes, this is good.”
“Ha, I knew it.” She holds her fudge-covered spoon in the air. “I knew I’d get you.”
“You didn’t get me, Ghirardelli did.”
After we had dinner, Kelsey demanded that we head up the hill to Ghirardelli to get dessert. It was a bit of a hike, so by the time we got there, dinner was partially digested and we were ready to dig into dessert.
We decided to share a classic hot-fudge sundae. We found a table in the middle of the busy restaurant. Where I would’ve rather walked around outside to eat, she once again wanted the full experience. So we’re crowded around a round bistro table with a marble top, people all around us, enjoying their sundaes just as much as we are.
It’s chaotic.
It’s loud.
And I hate to admit it, but it’s the perfect ending to our evening.
“Oh my God, look over there, that couple is making out.”
