He shot me a look and got up. “I’m going to get dressed, and then we’re going to talk about what other classics you’ve missed out on. Please order me the cheapest thing on the menu, maybe a cup of soup or something.”
“Dinner is my treat.”
“Thanks, but if it’s anything like that last hotel, the prices are going to be ridiculously overinflated. I don’t want to waste your money.”
He hurried to the bedroom, and I proceeded to order a multicourse meal for the two of us, since I knew we were both hungry.
The food arrived twenty minutes later, and I asked the server to set up the table beside the glass wall, so we could enjoy the view. The skyline was even more spectacular at night, lighting up the darkness. I’d thought Dante had totally overdone it when he booked this suite for me, but now I understood he’d had my date in mind. I owed him an extra thank you for this undeniably romantic setting.
When Armando took a seat at the table and saw how much I’d ordered, he said, “You really must be famished.”
“This is for both of us, and as I said, it’s my treat.”
“You shouldn’t have spent so much on me.”
“I’ll always insist on spoiling you whenever we’re together, so you need to get used to it.” Before he could argue, I fed him a bite of bread with warm brie and fig jam and asked, “What do you think?”
“That’s shockingly delicious.”
We worked our way through the meal slowly. He savored each dish, commenting on the way it was made and occasionally murmuring, mostly to himself, “I wonder if I could do something like that at the diner.”
I’d ordered two different desserts, and at the end of the meal, I asked him which one he wanted. “I don’t know how to choose,” he said, staring at them with wide eyes. “They both look amazing.”
“Then we’ll share them.”
I picked up a spoon and fed him a dollop of chocolate mousse, and he dropped his gaze and became slightly flushed. When I tried to feed him another spoonful, he took the spoon from me and said, “I think I like that too much.”
“The mousse?”
“No, being fed by you.” If that was the case, I didn’t know why he put such a quick stop to it.
After we finished dessert, he said, “Thank you again, Tory. Next time, dinner is my treat. I’ll cook for you if you want.”
“I’d love that.”
We got up from the table, and he lightly caressed my arm as he told me, “As much as I hate to say it, I should go pretty soon. I still need to find a room for tonight.”
“Oh. I assumed you’d booked an additional night at that other hotel.”
He shook his head. “My son and son-in-law had treated me to two nights there for the wedding, but I can’t afford those prices. I figure I’ll head south, maybe find a motel near the airport, or?—”
“Absolutely not. You’re staying here, with me.”
“I can’t impose on you like that.”
“It’s absolutely no imposition,” I said, “and there’s no way I want you driving around late at night, in an unfamiliar city with no place to stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you again, Tory. You really are the sweetest person ever.”
He took my hand and led me to the sofa. After we settled in on opposite ends with our bare feet meeting in the middle, I said, “Tell me your story, Arie.”
“I like that nickname.”
“Well, you renamed me, so I thought I’d do the same.”
