“Stop fondling your car and unlock the doors. I’m cold.”
“Oh, sorry, babe.” He touches the door handle, and I hear the locks click.
“Wait. Are you talking to me or your car?”
“You.” He rolls his pretty blue eyes.
“Well, you did just say your car was your baby.” I shrug.
“I stand corrected. You’re my baby, JoJo. The car is just a car.”
“Better,” I say, sliding onto some very nice leather seats. The interior is all black and sleek. After he starts it up, the entire dash comes to life. There are screens and lights and buttons all over the place. It looks like it was designed by NASA. Heck, it probably was. I bet this thing cost a pretty penny, but I’m not going to ask, and I’m definitely not going to look it up. It’s best if I don’t know.
We hold hands the entire ride to the restaurant. Pulling up to the valet stand, I stare at the sign above the door. “Everest?” I’ve never heard of it, but it’s not surprising. It’s located in the financial district here in Chicago. It’s a neighborhood I know nothing about except that Gisele and Billy work in a building close by. It must be how Billy knows about this place.
“It’s French cuisine.”
“Oh. That sounds fun.” And it does. I’ve never had real French food before.
Inside, Billy mentions his name and we’re taken to our table immediately, even though the place is packed. The wait must be long here. “Here you are, mademoiselle, monsieur.”
“Thanks,” I say, sitting in my seat. The host helps push my chair in, and I wait for Billy to get comfortable. Leaning toward him, I whisper. “This place is nice.”
“The food is amazing, but save room for dessert. It’s what they’re known for.”
“Always,” I say quietly. I’m a firm believer in dessert. Heck, I’d eat dessert for dinner if given the chance.
Thankfully, the menu is in both French and English. “Wow, this all looks amazing.” Looking up at him, I ask, “What do you recommend?”
“Well, I’ve been here twice, and both times I’ve gotten the New York steak.”
I laugh because that’s probably the first time Billy sounded like every other guy I’ve ever known. Give them beef or give them death.
“You’re laughing at me?” he says, looking a little put off.
“No.” I lean in and pat the hand he’s got on the table. “I like that you choose steak.” I’ll explain it to him later. “Are you going to try something else tonight?”
“I guess I’d better mix it up or you’ll laugh at me.”
“No, I won’t. I think I’ll get the steak, actually.”
“Ha!” he says, holding up one finger. Then he blushes, and I fall in love with the man. Bam, just like that. “I don’t know why I said ‘Ha!’ just then.”
I giggle because he’s funny. And sweet. And adorable. “What if I got the steak and you got something else, and I’ll share mine with you if you give me a bite of yours?”
“Okay. I like the way you think, JoJo.”
That’s what we do. For my salad course, I order the one with Maine lobster and bacon.Yum!He orders risotto with truffles. For the main course, I do the steak as promised; he gets wild sea bass. When it arrives, I gasp at the beauty. The way the chef placed each item on our plates is something to behold. It’s art. I’m tempted to take my phone out to take pictures. Whispering, I ask Billy, “Do you mind if I take a few pictures of our food? It’s so pretty. I’ll put them in Instagram.”
“No. Go ahead. Send them to me too.”
I slide my phone out of my purse and discreetly snap a photo of my plate as Billy lifts his just enough for me to get a shot of his as well. I send a copy of each to his phone and post mine on social media, adding the name of the restaurant to the images. These plates are so pretty they’re definitely worth sharing. Sliding my phone back into my purse, I take my first bite of Maine lobster. “Mmm,” I moan. “So good.”
Billy is watching me closely. He’s smiling, sort of, but mostly he looks turned on. “Did you try the risotto?”
“Oh, right.” Picking up his fork, he takes a bite and moans too.
Now I know why he was staring. I like his moans.Iwant to make him moan, and maybe I will later.
