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Even in the past, he never told me. I just paid attention. The one thing I wished someone would do for me. My dad didn’t care about anything that wasn’t leading to him being three sheets to the wind. I didn’t want to be like that, so I made a concerted effort to notice the little things. Especially with Aiden.
My stomach growls, and he shakes his head. “We can discuss it later. It’s not important right now. You need food.”
“That works for me.”
We both get out of the car and head toward the restaurant. The café looks like a little cottage you’d find in the woods. Gray stone with ivy scaling up the sides. A cobblestone walkway leads to the red front door. When we step through, a chime rings, alerting everyone to our presence.
We don’t bother waiting for a hostess to tell us where we should sit. Instead, Aiden walks right in like he owns the place, heading toward a table in the back. One that is hidden and obscured from the door. The few people in the place don’t pay us any attention.
It’s clear he’s been here many times, and something tells me this is his spot, seeing as no one working here seems to find it weird that he’s done this. Instead, an older woman lifts a hand and waves, all while smiling.
Once we’re seated at the small, intimate table in the back, away from the other patrons, a man who has to be in his seventies shuffles toward the booth, two waters in hand.
“Mr. Slate. It’s so nice to see you.”
“Paul, I’ve told you to call me Aiden,” he says, smiling up at the man, who waves him off.
“Different generation, son.” He turns toward me. “And who do we have here? A guest. This is new.”
I have so many questions about that. It’s no secret that Aiden doesn’t date, but surely, if he’s been here often, he’s come with someone.
“This is Cassidy. Cassidy, Paul owns Magnolia Café with his wife, Dorothy.”
“Nice to meet you, Paul. You have a lovely place.”
He beams. “It’s been ours for forty-two years in November.”
“Congratulations. That’s incredible.” I’m smiling because this man is so friendly and warm.
Something I’m not used to from most people.
Because your past won’t allow you to trust.
“Thank you. What will it be for you two?” He looks back and forth between Aiden and me.
“I’ll take my usual,” Aiden says, not bothering to look at the menu.
I quickly glance at it and find my usual. “I’ll have the Reuben and fries, with a side of pickles, please.”
Paul looks at Aiden with a smile and wide eyes. Aiden quirks his brow before leaning back, and the man shuffles off again.
I don’t even need to ask what that shared look was. I messed up. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Aiden or anyone would find that weird.
Based on Paul's reaction, I’m almost positive he ordered the same thing. It’s something we both always chose when available.
“That’s…an interesting order,” Aiden says.
“Is it?” I try to play it off like it’s no big deal. “If you ask me, Reubens are entirely underrated.”
“I got the same thing.”
His eyes narrow, and I realize my blunder. It’s something I’ve said a few times before. The part about Reubens being entirely underrated. Not only did I order something that was a mutual thing between us, but I’m using the same phrases.
Are you trying to get caught, Cass?
I don’t react, keeping my face neutral and lifting my glass of water to my lips. After a few seconds, Aiden moves on to the topic he planned for us to discuss.
“About your responsibilities…”
