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“Here we go,” I say out loud before starting the ignition and heading to the restaurant where I will be meeting Andrew.
I make it to the five-star Italian restaurant in under twenty minutes. Admittedly, not enough time to ease my nerves.
Pulling my car to the front of the building, I open my door as the valet comes around to my side.
“Welcome to Buona Tavola,” the young man says before handing me a piece of paper with the number 210 written on it.
“Thank you.” I quickly make my way to the front door.
Other than telling me his occupation and that he was tall, Trina didn’t really describe this guy to me. Glancing around the foyer, I spot a young couple, a family of four, and a man squeezed into a button up shirt so tight if he sneezed his buttons would turn him into an active shooter. My stomach sinks at the sight of him.
I pull out my phone and text Trina.
Me: Please, tell me Andrew is not this middle-aged balding man with a size youth small shirt on.”
Her reply was instant.
Bestie: What? Hell no. But take a picture. LOL!
“Summer?” A deep voice pulls my attention from my phone.
I look up into the darkest brown eyes set into the face of an absolutely stunning man. Tan skin as smooth as a baby, thick dark brows, enticing lips, a well-trimmed goatee and the straightest whitest teeth I’ve ever seen outside of a toothpaste commercial.
“Holy shit,” the words come out of my mouth before I can catch them.
He chuckles, making him even more charming.
“You’re definitely Summer,”
“And you are definitely not a balding man with a too tight shirt on.”
Andrew’s eyes widen. And the man behind me clears his throat. I glance back to find Mr. Tight shirt glaring at me before he storms off.
“Sorry,” I mouth even though he can’t see me. It’s not like he didn’t know that damn shirt was too tight.
Andrew starts to laugh. I turn back to him.
“Trina was right, you are funny. She’s told me so much about you.”
Clearly, she didn’t return the favor.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he goes on to say holding his hand out in front of him.
I place my hand inside his for a shake. He brings our joined hands up to his lips and places a kiss on the back of my hand. I giggle like a twelve-year-old in front of her crush.
“You too,” I reply breathlessly.
Andrew is absolutely gorgeous. Those square framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose give him a sophisticated boy next door type of vibe.
“Our table is ready,” he says drawing me out of my head.
He holds a hand out suggesting that I walk in front of him. I oblige even though I don’t know where I’m going. However, no worries, a gentle hand on my elbow guides me in the right direction.
Finally, we make it to our table, and he pulls out my seat allowing me to sit down. There is already a glass of water sitting in front of me. I take a sip of the cold liquid hoping it will help ease my nerves even more.
“So, what are you thinking about for an appetizer?” Andrew asks as he picks up the menu in front of him. “The food here is really good.”
I pick up my fancy leather bound menu.
