“Would you like me to ask the owner?” I can tell from his voice he is fighting a laugh. I don’t look to see if I’m right because I know my face is already three shades of red.
“Nope.” I flip it back open and actually read over what they have as I fight my embarrassment. I don’t think he’s buying it, and why do I even care? I’m here for free food and that’s it. Oh, and to be mean as payback for the girls.
“I’m Dash,” he says, and I look up to see he’s holding his hand out.
“Well, I hope so. That’s who my date is with.” I look back down at my menu, not taking his hand.
It’s not that I’m trying to be rude, even though I am, but it’s really because I’m scared to touch him. I’m already acting like a weirdo and turning into one of those guys who sees a pretty girl and they can’t even talk. Actually, that’s kind of adorable when I think about it.
When I peek up at him, I see he’s lowered his hand but now he’s smiling at me. Why is he smiling? Am I not being rude enough? My friends might be right about me not being mean. I’ll have to step it up a notch.
“Have you been on a lot of dates on the app?” He asks when I don’t say anything else.
I shrug. Not as many as him, I’m sure, since he’s gone out with all of my friends. That helps cool some of my attraction, until the next time I look at him and it’s there all over again.
“I hate dating, to be honest.” His tone is light. Is he trying to make small talk?
“You wouldn’t know it,” I mumble. He gives me a confused look but I’m saved by the server bringing me another glass of the same wine I’d had at the bar. I didn’t order another but I’ll take it.
“How are you doing this evening, Mr. Belmont?” the server asks.
“I’m good,” he answers as the server puts down a drink in front of him too. He really must come here a lot. “Eyes on me, Clark.” The server looks away from me and back to Dash.
“Bring out a few appetizers while my girl here looks over the menu.” Did he call me his girl? I shake my head.
“No, I know what I want.” I looked over the menu before Dash got here. “I mean, bring the apps but I’m having the filet Oscar style with a loaded baked potato.” I close my menu and hand it to the server. “Cooked medium rare please.” I wonder if they can make a dessert to go. I saw a dessert cart wheel through the lobby when I walked in.
“You know what I’ll have,” Dash says and hands over his menu.
I don’t know why, but it bugs me that he brings all his dates to the same place. I don’t understand—if he hates dating so much, why do it? I’d ask him but I’m trying to be rude so I’m not doing small talk. I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to text the girls an update. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time as I fire off one text after another.
“Is something wrong?” he says, and I look up from my phone. Suddenly it starts going off like crazy in my hand.
“Checking some stuff.” His chiseled jaw flexes and I can see I’m getting to him. I look back at my phone and continue to text the group chat about what’s going on.
Cherry: He’s trying to get some.
Blair: Damn, he’s talking?!
Harlow: Yep! Totally trying to get laid.
Me: Wait. Did any of you sleep with him?
A bunch of nos come through with reminders of how they all ditched him.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” he asks again, staring at my phone. “Are you checking the dating app? Do you have another date after this one?” His nose flares.
“Depends on how this one goes,” I say dryly, then pick up my wine and take a long sip. “Are you picking up the tab? I saw creme brûlée on the dessert tray.”
By the way his eyes widen, I wonder if maybe I went too far.
Chapter Four
Dash
For the first time since I can remember, and maybe ever, a woman has knocked me speechless.
The way she keeps playing on her phone is not only annoying, but it’s making me jealous of a piece of technology. Why is she giving it her complete focus instead of me? What did I do wrong?
Flashes of me sitting in this very same restaurant with other women hit me like a jolt of electricity. Me on my phone ignoring them completely, and then me getting up and walking out without so much as a backwards glance. Jesus, could she potentially do this to me?