The Love Hypothesis
“What about Mexican? Do you like Mexican?”
“Burgers don’t taste like—”
“Or Italian? Pizza would be great. And maybe there’s something celery-based that you could order.”
“Burgers it is.”
Olive laughed. “What about Chinese?”
“Had it for lunch.”
“Well, people in China have Chinese food multiple times a day, so you shouldn’t let that stop you from— Oh.”
It took Adam two whole steps to realize that Olive had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He whirled around to look at her. “What?”
“There.” She pointed to the red-and-white sign across the road.
Adam’s gaze followed, and for a long moment he simply stared, blinking several times. And then: “No.”
“There,” she repeated, feeling her cheeks widen into a grin.
“Olive.” There was a deep vertical line between his eyebrows. “No. There are way better restaurants we can—”
“But I want to go to that one.”
“Why? There’s—”
She moved closer to him and grasped the sleeve of his blazer. “Please. Please?”
Adam pinched his nose, sighed, and pursed his lips. But not five seconds later he put his hand between her shoulder blades to guide her across the street.
* * *
—
THE PROBLEM, HE explained in hushed tones as they waited to be seated, was not the sushi train, but the all-you-can-eat for twenty dollars.
“It’s never a good sign,” he told her, but his voice sounded more resigned than combative, and when the server ushered the
m inside, he followed her meekly to the booth. Olive marveled at the plates traveling on the conveyor belt weaving across the restaurant, unable to stop her openmouthed grin. When she remembered Adam’s presence and turned her attention back to him, he was staring at her with an expression halfway between exasperated and indulgent.
“You know,” he told her, eyeing a seaweed salad passing by his shoulder, “we could go to a real Japanese restaurant. I am very happy to pay for however much sushi you want to eat.”
“But will it move around me?”
He shook his head. “I take it back: you are a disturbingly cheap date.”
She ignored him and lifted the glass door, grabbing a roll and a chocolate doughnut. Adam muttered something that sounded a lot like “very authentic,” and when the waitress stopped by he ordered them both a beer.
“What do you think this is?” Olive dipped a piece of sushi in her soy sauce. “Tuna or salmon?”
“Probably spider meat.”
She popped it into her mouth. “Delicious.”
“Really.” He looked skeptical.
It wasn’t, in all truth. But it was okay. And this, well, this was so much fun. Exactly what she needed to empty her mind of . . . everything. Everything but here and now. With Adam.