“Shoot,” he says before taking a seat across from me.
“You have a lot of money, right?” I ask.
“I have a decent amount, yes.”
“So why do you frequent places like this?” I ask before saying, “That sounded snobby, didn’t it?”
“No, I understand. I actually get that a lot,” he says. “I’ve been to all the high-end places. Michelin rated restaurants and Five-Star Hotels and honestly? I think they’re overrated.”
“Overrated?” I laugh. “You think fine dining, good wine, and a swanky atmosphere are overrated?”
“I do,” he nods.
“How so?”
“In short? Places like that are full of rich people, and rich people suck,” he says, and I laugh again. It makes Gavin grin.
“What? You don’t believe me? Listen, I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, and I have learned, especially as someone with money, that status doesn’t matter. Not as much as good times with good people and good food. Don’t let the plastic red and white checkered tablecloths and bowls of pretzels fool you. This place has the best burgers this side of Parker.”
“Really?” I ask. “Because I happen to love a good burger, and that’s a high bar.”
“Don’t believe me?” he asks. The waiter approaches, and Gavin gives him our order. “We’ll take two burgers with the works, one basket of onion rings, one basket of fries with house seasoning, and two chocolate shakes.”
“I’ll take bacon on mine,” I add. “The burger, not the shake.”
After the waiter walks away, I study Gavin with a smirk. “You better be right,” I tell him.
“What if I’m not?” he asks. “I know I am, but if you decide I’m not?”
“Then I guess you’re buying,” I tell him.
“Don’t worry. I was planning on it either way,” he says with a wink. I really wish he wouldn’t do that. It makes it incredibly hard to prove Josie wrong.
“Oh my god…” I say with a full mouth.
“I know,” Gavin grins.
“This seriously might be the best burger I have ever eaten.” I admit.
“What did I tell you?” he asks as he takes a bite of his own.
“You were right.”
Gavin stops chewing, tilts his head up and points at his ear. “I’m sorry, what was that last part?”
“You were right,” I say.
“One more time. You were mumbling.”
“You were right!” I say loudly enough that the people at the neighboring tables look over at us. “God. Eat your burger and get over yourself.”
Gavin laughs and grabs a french fry, popping it into his mouth. Then he dusts off his hands. “I gotta say, I was surprised when you texted me and told me to choose the place to meet up.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yes, really.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
