I slip my sweater off my shoulders, no longer in need of it since the restaurant is warm enough. It’s a travesty that Noah is standing behind me because I don’t get the pleasure of seeing his face the first moment he sees me in the dress. I do catch his sharp intake of breath though and stifle a smirk. Definitely worth the thirty-five euros.
I sit down and he pushes my chair in for me.
“What do you have there?” he asks, pointing to the manila envelope I’ve brought with me.
“Oh. A bit of pre-dinner paperwork.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
A waiter appears at Noah’s side after he takes his seat.
“Wine for the table?” he asks.
“We’ll each have a glass of the house red, please,” Noah answers for me.
When the waiter walks away, I lean forward. “How do you know I don’t want white?”
He rolls his eyes. “Because I know. Now are you going to get on with that or not?” He squints, reading the front of the envelope I’m still holding. “Did you really title it ‘Legal Document’?”
“Shut up. Yes.” I tug the single page out of the envelope and flatten it out on the table. “Are you ready?”
“I doubt I’ll ever be. Just read it.”
I clear my throat and lower my voice, changing my demeanor to play the role of Consummate Professional. Something I have never been and will never be.
“Ahem. The undersigned Audrey Cohen hereby attests to having total and complete knowledge—”
“Total and complete is redundant.”
I glare at him until silence is restored. “I will have order in this courtroom.”
He pinches his eyes closed, probably already regretting asking me out on this date. I continue anyway.
“…total and complete knowledge of the attempted prank(s) to be perpetrated by Noah Peterson, hereafter referred to as Dumb-Dumb #1 (DD1).
“DD1 has in no way accomplished his predetermined goals, listed below:
1) Tricking her into thinking he is genuinely interested in her
2) Fooling around with her
3) Making her fall in love with him and then publicly breaking her heart
It is heretofore acknowledged on this day, July 17th, at eight o’clock.”
I look up and Noah is grinning. He’s loving this.
“I tried to get a notary, but it was too short of notice. Do you want to review it before you sign? You can take as much time as you need.”
“You’re something else, you know that? Just hand me a pen.”
I pass him one from my little clutch. It was the most official-looking writing utensil I could find.
“Sign here.”
He doesn’t even hesitate.
“And here,” I say, pointing. “Here. Again here. And initials only here.”
When he’s done, he drops the pen and leans back in his chair, trying to look unamused. I take the document and blow on the ink to ensure it’s all dried before slipping it back into the manila envelope and sealing it up.
The waiter returns with our wine and Noah and I clink our glasses, holding eye contact while we do it.
“I’m not going to break your heart,” he says, sounding absolutely sure. “This isn’t some huge premeditated scheme I’ve had in the works for years.”
“My friends still think it is.”
“Your friends. Right, I suppose it’ll be tough to win them over at first.”
I nod. “They’re very loyal. I doubt they’ll ever like you.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“My parents too. I mean, I think my mom has a little crush on you since you talked to her on the phone, but my dad’s only heard horror stories.”
He’s undeterred. “I’m great with parents. Parents love me.”
“Are we insane for trying this?” I ask him.
“I don’t see another way forward. I can’t get you out of my head. The girl who calls me a dumb-dumb is apparently the one for me.” He shakes his head in disbelief as the waiter comes back with a basket of bread. I immediately attack it.
We peruse the menu and I suggest we split a few dishes. In true Noah and Audrey fashion, we can’t agree on what they should be. In the end, we tell the waiter to bring us his favorites and leave it at that.
“What are we supposed to talk about now?” I ask, sipping my wine. We haven’t stopped talking, bickering, and teasing each other since I sat down.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he jokes.
“How about this: Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Oh, interview style—I like it. Let’s keep things saucy.” He mulls my question over for a second. “Am I supposed to give you an ambitious answer or the truth?”
“Both.”
“Okay. Ambitious? I’m the CEO of Google and I fold my laundry right away instead of letting it pile up in my dryer. I just broke it off with Margot Robbie and now I’m dating Gal Gadot. With Daniel Craig’s retirement from the 007 franchise, Hollywood is looking to me to fill the role.”
“Wow. That is ambitious. But plausible,” I say, sounding as if his goals are completely reasonable.