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“Good, I guess.” I follow him to a restaurant with tables inside and outside. The hostess smiles with the same drooling look as the flight attendant as she leads us to a secluded table in the back of the room.
She sets menus on the table, letting her hand linger longer than necessary in front of him. “Your server will be here shortly. Let me know if you need anything.” Her hand brushes across his as she steps away.
“Are women always like that with you?”
“Like what?” he scrunches his forehead.
“You can’t be serious? She would’ve had sex with you in the bathroom if you would’ve asked.”
He looks back at the hostess stand, making eye contact with the staring girl. “I guess I didn’t notice.”
I laugh loudly. “You’d have to be blind not to notice.”
“Are you jealous?”
The smile leaves my face. “No, I mean, we barely know each other,” I stumble over my words.
“I’m teasing you, Miss Erickson. “
“Piper.”
“Piper?” he asks, confused.
“That’s my name. Piper Erickson.”
“Ty.”
It’s my turn to be confused. “What?”
“My name is Beatty, but my friends call me Ty.”
I smile at the realization that we’re friends. “Nice to meet you, Ty.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Piper.” He opens his menu dramatically. “Now, what do we want to eat?”
“Order for me. I’m horrible at picking new foods at new restaurants.”
“Are you sure? What if I order you something you don’t like?”
I laugh. “I’m a fan of all food, unlike you, with your bigotism against anything that swims.”
Ty joins my laugh. “Just for that, I’m ordering you a shrimp burger.”
I make a face that matches my inner turmoil. “Actually, that sounds gross. I’m staying away from swimming creatures filling my burgers.”
A young man appears at the side of our table. “Welcome. Are you ready to order?”
Ty closes his menu, wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans. “We’ll take two burgers, medium well, and fries, please.”
“Of course. I’ll get those out shortly.” The server turns, disappearing into the sea of people.
“Piper, do you have any more of those wet wipes? There was something greasy on that menu, and it won’t wipe off.”
“Sure.” I reach into my bag and realize for the first time since I can remember, I haven’t thought about the germs or the mess that surrounds me in the airport. I don’t know why, but I don’t question it. He takes his time cleaning the grease from his hands.
“What do you do for work?” he asks.
“I volunteer for local organizations and museums in the city. What about you?”
