“You know what I mean.”
“Trust me. It’ll be okay,” he said, pulling into a parking garage. “We have to hike a little to get there, but parking near the restaurant is almost nonexistent. This parking garage is as close as we will get.”
“That’s fine,” I answered, looking down at my delicate heels. They looked cute, but walking in them more than a few steps would turn them into medieval torture devices.
Justin offered me his arm as we left the garage and headed across the street.
“You okay?” he asked as I stumbled for the third time in less than two minutes.
“Yeah, except these damn heels hate me,” I said, glaring down at the traitors on my feet.
“Can you make it? The restaurant is less than a block away.”
“Sure. I may have to murder the maker of these shoes, but I’ll make it. As long as you promise to visit me in prison, we’re good to go. Of course, I’m sure some butch chick will make me her bitch within the first day.”
“Homicide of uncomfortable shoemakers is accepted, not that I wouldn’t be interested in seeing you with another girl,” he teased.
“You’re such a guy,” I said, swinging at him with my hand. I almost biffed it for the fourth time. It seemed the heels wouldn’t be satisfied until I was a smear on the pavement.
“Here we are,” he chuckled, stopping in front of the restaurant.
“Pink Door? Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place.”
“Live music, romance. It’s the perfect destination for a New Year’s Eve date,” he said, guiding me into the restaurant.
We stepped inside and the first thing I saw was a woman swinging from a trapeze hanging from the ceiling. There was light jazz music coming from a band onstage. Taking in my surroundings, I was glad I had gone the extra distance on my appearance. Everyone seemed to be dressed to the nines to celebrate the evening.
Justin approached the hostess, who found our reservation and signaled another girl to show us to our table.
“This is amazing,” I commented, removing my jacket and placing it on the back of my chair.
“A buddy of mine came here a couple months ago for his girlfriend’s birthday. He said the food is really good.”
His friend’s assessment proved to be an understatement. Every dish that was brought out seemed to top the one before it. The ambiance of the restaurant was just as intoxicating. The interior was cute and chic. I felt like I was in a bistro in Paris or something.
“That was incredible,” I said as we slowly strolled back to the parking garage. Slow being the key word since my shoes weren’t done tormenting me. By the time we made it to the jeep, I was cursing my shoes with every step.
Justin was chuckling as he helped tuck me into the jeep before climbing in himself.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling off my shoes to rub my sore feet.
“You. Your temper is downright cute. I’m not even sure a frat boy cusses as much as you just did.”
“Sorry, swearing is my downfall. I try to curb it, but when my body parts are screaming in agony, it gets the best of me.”
“No apologies necessary. I admire the fact that you were able to make it as far as you did,” he said, pulling in front of the art gallery at UW where I had first agreed to go out with him. “We’re here.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You missed school so much you had to return during break?”
“It’s all part of the evening’s festivities,” he said, climbing from the vehicle and coming to my side. “Here, put your arms around my neck.”
Following his orders, I placed my arms around his neck as he swooped me into his arms.
“Wait, you can’t carry me. I’m too heavy,” I protested as he carried me effortlessly to the front of the building.
“Seriously? You weigh nothing,” he said, pulling me tightly against his chest as he unlocked the front door of the building with a set of keys he pulled from his suit pocket. “Now, the wooden planks I use for my artwork, they’re heavy,” he stated, placing me down once we were inside the building.
“Are we going to get in trouble for being in here?” I whispered.