“You did great. I’ve never had Mediterranean food. This should be interesting.”
I nodded, feeling the same. The candlelight flickering low in the middle of the table gave a romantic touch. This was different for me. I’d admit I hadn’t always been that thoughtful in the past. I’d taken women on dates, but the thought was minimal. With Thyri, I wanted to romanticize everything because she deserved it.
“Hi, my name is Jessie. I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?” The waitress beamed as she spoke.
“I’ll take sparkling water and the Casa Blanca Margarita please,” Thyri said.
“I’ll have water for now.”
“Okay. Coming right up.”
The waitress bounced off, all happy and shit.
“She happy as hell, ain’t she?”
Thyri giggled. “I was thinking the same thing. They either beating them or paying them really well.” We both laughed at her assessment. “You wanna share an appetizer?” she asked, scanning the menu.
“These appetizers?” I repeated with a noticeable frown.
“Yes.” She laughed. “Fix your face.”
I looked up at her and shook my head. “Don’t nothing on that part of the menu sound appetizing, Ma. I read it twice.”
Still laughing, she shook her head. “That’ll be the highlight.”
“The highlight is none of this shit sound appetizing to me?”
“No, silly. The highlight is the memory we’re creating,” she corrected. “Since we’ll be trying whatever we order together, if it’s nasty, then we’ll have something to look back on and laugh about in the future.”
“Oh, you planning a future?” I challenged her reasoning to see if she’d double down on it.
“Maybe. It’ll be one of our firsts that we share together.”
I leaned forward slightly. “I can get wit’ your thought process but believe me when I say you’re not about to convince me to eat no beef tartare. I don’t care how fine you are or how good the future sound, Ma.”
Giggling, she snapped her fingers. “Damn. I guess I gotta be a Sullivan to pull that smooth stuff off, huh?”
I smirked. “It’s a skill, Ma.”
“Okay. How ‘bout we just do entrées? Order something different than what I choose though, deal?”
“Why, so you can eat off my plate?”
She rolled her neck. “Like the woman I am, absolutely.”
The waitress returned with our drinks and took our orders. I went with the oven-roasted chicken, and Thyri ordered grilled lamb chops.
“How’s everything been down at Sullivan & Co.?” she asked.
“Business is good. Just secured two new contracts the other day. Commercial properties that I’m sure we’ll lock in long term.”
“Okayyy. Go you. I’ll cheers to that.” She held her glass up, and I cheered with my water.
“Preciate it.”
Dinner arrived quick, securing the waitress’ tip in my head. I wasn’t the most patient person by nature, so prompt service was always a plus for me.
“Oh, we gon’ eat good,” Thyri let out, her eyes roaming from my plate to her own.
