“Don’t worry about it,” Luke says, though the wrinkle between his eyes says otherwise. “It’s on me.”
I keep reading, and everything sounds like something Maddy would love to try, but nothing that I’m comfortablewith. A man and a woman come up next to us and we make space for them to read too.
“Oh, look, they have a lobster en papillote with truffles!” the woman exclaims. My Duolingo French is progressing, but I have no idea what she means. Is that a dessert? I shoot Luke a look, and he’s just as wide-eyed as I feel. He glances over at the guy, who is indeed wearing a tie.
“Luke,” I say, pulling him away from the menu.
“I should’ve worn—” he starts, reaching to his neck.
“No,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“This is too fancy. I feel so weird that there aren’t prices, and I do not want to eat what sounds like lobster chocolates unless Maddy is forcing me to because her career depends on it.”
“But…” Luke looks over at the hostess, who’s leading two elderly men dressed to the nines inside the dark, candlelit restaurant. “We have a reservation.”
“It’s fine,” I say, sliding my hand into his. “I’m sure someone’s waiting, and they’ll be over the moon to have us give it up.”
“You sure?” Luke asks. He looks down at me and brushes a stray piece of hair out of my eyes.
“Oh my god, yes. I’ll eat anywhere with you, but maybe not here, tonight?”
He relaxes and lets out a little laugh. “Thank god,” he says, pulling on my hand and guiding me out of the small courtyard. The hostess catches us as we try to sneak away.
“Oh, are you leaving?” she asks. Another couple appears behind us, asking if they can have our place.
“Yes,” I say as Luke tugs on my hand, “just remembered I’m allergic to seafood and butter—and ties!” Luke snorts and tugs me farther away. “Sorry for the confusion! Bye!”
We break into a run once we’re at the sidewalk and stop at the corner, laughing and catching our breaths. Luke untucks his shirt and undoes one of the top buttons. I take out the clip that’s hurting my scalp, and nervously check my watch. My heart rate slows quickly, and I relax.
“Better?” I ask, running my hands through my hair. Luke watches me and then looks back over my shoulder.
“Yes, but we will need the car keys.”
“Ah, that.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Luke retrieves his truck, and once we’re in the cab I move over on the bench seat and buckle myself in the middle so I can be right next to him.
“So, where to?” he asks.
“How about that seafood shack.” I point to a sign that leads to a local beach.
“Picnic on the beach?” he says with a grimace, like it’s not special enough.
“Yes.” I nod and fiddle with the cassette and the cord that connects to my phone, putting on Cam’s band’s EP, which has grown on me recently.
“If you’re sure,” Luke says, taking the right.
“I’m sure.”
The beach is emptying out at this time of day, and the sky ispromising a truly great sunset. There’s a thin scattering of clouds to the west, and it’s already a little peachy around the edges. We order a mixed plate from the seafood stand and milkshakes, and when our order is up, I lead the way down to some rocks that offer a flat space for us to sit.
We eat while the food is still hot, and I try not to drink my whole milkshake too fast, though it has nothing on Maddy’s peanut butter–chocolate one.
“So, the shop looked pretty busy,” I say once we’ve slowed down.
