Don’t overdo it, Nate.
“How much did it cost?”
“You do not want to know.”
“Probably not,” Cherry mutters under her breath.
Fuck. I should have gone with the basic Lexus. It doesn’t help that the valet at the restaurant gawks open-mouthed as I hand him the key fob. It also doesn’t help when a dozen or so guys and two women leave their dates to join the ogling. Cherry ducks away from them as they start to ask questions, her cheeks burning red.
Inside, the restaurant is a madhouse. Every table is occupied, and a large group mills around the host’s desk, waiting for a table. Even the bar is packed with more people standing around, holding their drinks and jockeying for a seat.
“Do you have a reservation?” the host asks without looking up.
“No.”
“Then I’m afraid the wait is well over an—” The host looks up, and his mouth drops open as I raise an eyebrow. “Oh! Mr. Orso! My apologies. Uh…let me see what we can find for you.”
“Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
“This place is really busy,” Cherry says as she looks around. “How long is the wait?”
“Not long, I’m sure.” I stare at the curve of her neck as she glances around the foyer full of people and the lack of open tables.
“Right this way, Mr. Orso.” The host gestures with one arm and cradles menus with the other.
“Oh! That was quick.” Cherry looks over at the waiting guests as they look back at us with narrowed eyes as we’re led away.
The host stops at a small table for two, still covered in dirty glasses and dessert dishes. I glare at him, and he stammers out an apology.
“We’re short-staffed tonight,” he says. “I’m so sorry! I’ll get rid of this right away!”
“It’s not a problem, really,” Cherry says. She gives him a kind smile as he rushes to clear the table.
Once the table is clean, we sit down and order drinks.
“Do you come here a lot?” Cherry asks.
“Somewhat,” I say. “Cascade Falls is a little short on fine dining experiences, but this place has good food and drinks. I like the atmosphere, and it’s usually not this busy.”
“It’s a nice night,” Cherry says. “Nice weather at the end of winter tends to bring people out.”
“I suppose that’s true. Do you drink wine?”
“I do.”
With Cherry’s approval, I order a nice bottle of red that isn’t too expensive, feeling like I need to make up for the stupid car. Pops bought the damn thing, and I was never even allowed to drive it before.
Before.
I shake my head to clear it.
“I have no idea what to order,” Cherry says. “It all looks so good.”
I make a couple of suggestions, and Cherry eventually makes up her mind. Of course, the server is nowhere in sight now. I see a few waitstaff rushing back and forth between tables and the kitchen but not the one who took our drink order and then disappeared.
“They really are busy!” Cherry glances up with a rather nervous chuckle.
I don’t like to wait—never have—and it’s probably starting to show. I’m accustomed to being served immediately, and I absolutely refuse to wait in line anywhere. I take a deep breath and fake a smile, wishing I had a drink so I could make some dumb-ass toast to relieve the tension.