6
Randy
Friday night.
“I hope you don’t mind coming here,” I let out a chuckle as we pull into Burrata Pizza and Pasta’s parking lot. Samantha merely giggles upon seeing the sign.
“No, it’s fine because this place has the best food, among other things,” she grins. “It’s a place of wonderful memories.”
I grin while helping her out of the truck.
“Wonderful? Or dirty?”
“Both,” she sasses back, hopping to the ground before tucking a hand into my elbow. “Besides, your brother really knows how to run a restaurant, I have to give it to him. Are we going to see Ed tonight?”
I chuckle while opening the door to my older brother’s restaurant. Burrata used to be a dusty, old, rundown building but you’d never be able to tell when looking at it now. Nowadays, Burrata Pizza and Pasta looks like the perfect place for a first date if you ask me. Even though they’ve installed the latest in drink dispensers and splurged on sports memorabilia for the walls, it still has a homey feel to it. It’s not like one of those over-expensive restaurants created for rich people who have too much money. Instead, Burrata is cozy, simple, and best of all the food is delish.
“Nah, we won’t catch Ed here,” I drawl before escorting Sam to a table in the corner. “Ed’s taking the day off so we shouldn’t bump into him. Hell, I don’t want to see him. Family is best kept at a distance,” I quip.
Sam shoots me a funny look while sitting.
“Really? Why?”
I shrug, taking a seat myself. The ambience is perfect with a couple pinball machines near the wall, and low-hanging pendant lamps casting a colorful glow on our wood table.
“For no reason,” I grin. “He’s a good brother. It’s just that I don’t exactly want him peering over my shoulder during a date, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh that!” Sam laughs. “Don’t worry, I don’t want Mags seeing us either because she’d ask so many questions about our dining experience. They love Burrata to death.”
“They do,” I growl while flipping open the menu. “This restaurant is Ed and Maggie’s baby, along with their real baby of course,” I wink.
With that, we both look over the food choices, although I’m not really reading the words. Instead, I’m eating Sam up with my eyes because she looks amazing, as always. Tonight, she’s wearing a tight red crop top and a tiny denim mini skirt. It’s a simple outfit but I’ve come to learn that this woman can make even a garbage bag look amazing. Hell, I’m convinced that she could get away with donning a paper bag or a cardboard box, given those luscious curves. She really does have the body of a goddess.
But I’m trying my best not to think about that because tonight is all about getting to know each other. As beautiful as Sam is, I’m intrigued by much more than just her looks. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s got a sassy personality, which I love. Not only that, but Sam’s smart as a whip, witty, sarcastic, and gives as good as she gets. I like that in a girl because the ones who are picture perfect dolls are often duds too. It’s like talking to a piece of clay. There’s no one home upstairs, and the conversation never goes anywhere.
A waitress bustles over, middle-aged with a big smile, and we place our order.
“Cheese pizza?” I ask. “Large?”
Sam nods happily.
“With artichokes and shrimp on top,” she instructs the waitress, who jots everything down and nods.
“Coming right up.”
Then, our server moves away and I shoot Sam a look.
“Shrimp? Artichokes?”
She nods.
“There’s no point in coming to this restaurant if we aren’t going to try a pizza with insane toppings, right? After all, Burrata is known for its crazy toppings, so we’d be insane if we just got plain cheese or pepperoni.”
I nod and agree, even though I’m semi-allergic to seafood.
“Sure thing, honey. Whatever you like.”
Whew. I guess I really do have it bad, seeing that I’m willing to risk my health (and taste buds) for this girl. But then I lean forward.
“So, sweetheart, tell me a little bit about yourself. You’re in school, right?”
She cocks her head my way.
“How did you know?”
I shrug.
“Just a guess.”
She laughs.
“It’s probably because I look like a student, but you’re right. I’m attending Cedar Toms Community College.”
I chuckle quietly, letting out a small sigh of relief. “That’s good. Community college is good. Very good, in fact.”
“Why?” Sam asks, confused. “Most people say four year universities are better.”
I shake my head.
“No, it’s because it puts my fears to rest. When we first met, I thought you were still in high school, so let’s just say I was praying that you were legal, baby girl.”
Sam looks shocked.