“You know, I’ve never been there,” I tell him.
“It’s so close,” he says.
“I know. I just don’t eat out that often. I always bring my own lunch, and there’s always something to eat up there.”
“Well, I hope you like it. I’ve never been either.”
The five-minute drive is quiet. He keeps glancing over at me, and I pretend not to notice.
There’s a chemistry between us that we can’t deny.
But chemistry doesn’t build a life.
It doesn’t make you feel secure.
And it’s not love.
He holds the door open for me as we walk in, and the host at the front goes wide-eyed at the sight of him.
I look around, and it seems like there are three or four separate groups of people in the waiting area.
“Javonte,” the host says. “You need a table for two?”
Javonte nods.
“I’ll take you right back.”
The host grabs two menus and two rolls of silverware and starts walking off.
I nudge Javonte. “Must be nice.”
He shrugs. “It is sometimes. Other times it’s weird that everybody knows my first name and just calls me by it like we’re all best friends.”
I hadn’t considered that, but it makes sense.
The host sets our menus and silverware down, and Javonte rushes behind me to pull out my chair. He’s always been a gentleman, with me at least, and it’s something that I missed and didn’t realize.
Because little things like this mean a lot to me.
Being considered, without having to ask for it, really gets me.
It takes me a minute to even pick up the menu. I’m a little overwhelmed being out with him. People are staring, pointing cameras in this direction, and he’s oblivious.
“They’ve got those sweet, fruity teas that you like,” he says. “What are you gonna order, peach or raspberry?”
Everyone kind of disappears in that moment, and I look at him.
He remembers.
I smile. “I think raspberry sounds good.”
“Ooh, they have grilled salmon. Is that still your favorite?”
“I’m kind of feeling like a chicken sandwich, but wait, they don’t grill it here. Never mind,” he says, scanning the menu. “What are you thinking you want?”
I smile at him, and it’s warm and genuine and full.
“You pick for me.”
