“Perfect,” I say, following him back across the street.
Once we’re seated, Blake orders the salmon and a glass of red wine. I order the garlic butter spaghetti and think idly that I’m going to have very bad breath soon. Why do I care about my breath?
“Do you like red wine?” Blake asks. The waiter is still standing next to the table.
“Oh—”
“Do you want to share a bottle? I can choose one if you’d like.”
This is definitely starting to feel like a date.
Blake notices my hesitation. “Caroline will want a glass when she gets here.”
“Right, duh. Yes, I’ll have a glass as well. I know nothing about wine so you’ll have to choose.”
He does, and the waiter returns quickly and opens the bottle for us. Blake says, “You can just pour it.”
The waiter pours the glasses, sets the bottle down, and walks away.
“Why did you say that to the waiter? Wasn’t he going to pour the wine anyway?”
Blake smiles. “He was going to pour a little for me to sample. I’m not really a wine snob. I just know about wine from being around Caroline’s family. Her dad mainly. I didn’t grow up like that at all.”
“I know.”
“That’s right, we talked about this.” He pauses as he takes a sip and puts his glass down thoughtfully. “I’m actually really irritated with Ben at the moment.”
“Caroline’s dad?”
“Yeah, he’s just constantly asking more of her. He runs her ragged. I mean, Caroline is an only child…she’s it. Her mom spoils the crap out of her, and then her dad makes her pay for it.”
“What about you?”
“Do I spoil her?”
I actually do want to know how he’d respond to that question, but that wasn’t what I was asking. “No, I mean why doesn’t her dad consider you a contender for taking over the company…especially if you and Caroline are together?”
“He knows I don’t want to do that forever.” Does he want to become an artist instead? I wonder how emotionally exhausting it might be for him to work in an office every day, especially when he knows it’s taking time away from him pursuing his dreams. But maybe it’s all worth it if he gets to be with Caroline, who he loves…right?
“So…do you spoil her?”
Wearing a serious expression, he says, “No, I appease her.”
“Those two things are kind of the same in my book.”
“The person doing the spoiling usually wants to do it.”
He’s looking at me seriously. “Let’s change the subject,” I suggest.
“Yeah, let’s.”
Just then our food arrives. “Have you tried to get your artwork into any galleries?”
“Actually, yes. Thanks for asking. My friend Charlie and I are getting a big show together, but it’s still a few months away. He’s a sculptor…really cool stuff.”
He takes a bite of salmon.
“That’s amazing. I hope I get to see it.”
