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Various smells hung in the air, competing to be the dominant one. My stomach rumbled loudly, drawing Jase’s gaze my way.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s starving.”
The hostess laughed before I could, filling my ears with the sound of her artificial laughter. She was clearly flirting with Jase. I scowled, then regretted it. No need to feel territorial about a colleague…right?
We were led to a table for two in a sparsely populated corner of the restaurant. Placing menus down in front of us, the hostess smiled widely. She directed her next statement to Jase. “I’ll send a waitress right over, sir.”
“Thanks,” he replied smoothly. “But no rush. My friend will need some time to look at the menu since she’s never been here before.”
The hostess smiled politely in my direction before walking away.
I picked up my menu.
“So, what’s good here?” I asked.
“It depends on what you’re in the mood for. They do a great classic burger and fries, a good alfredo, and the best chicken salads in the Bay.”
He had me at “the best.” I sat the menu back down.
“Wow, you must come here a lot.”
Jase stared across the table at me as if he was trying to memorize my face.
“What?” I asked self-consciously.
Red spots appeared on his cheeks and he looked away in embarrassment.
“Nothing, I…I was just going to say that you look beautiful. Glitter and all.”
I snorted.
“Thanks, Channing, but I can’t wait to get home and shower.”
He groaned when I called him ‘Channing.’
“I’m never going to shirk that little nickname, am I?”
“Nope!” I replied, popping the P.
The waitress, a pretty African American girl with a voluminous afro and braces, walked up to our table. She, too, seemed smitten with Jase, but I couldn’t blame her. He was blonde, well-groomed, and had the most intense eyes on the planet.
Instead of just giving her our drink orders, we went ahead and placed our meal orders as well to cut down on the wait time. I went with the chicken salad with a side of fries because I would always be a Pittsburgh girl at heart. A salad wasn’t a salad without fries on top—and no one would ever convince me otherwise.
“So, what do you do for fun in San Jose?” Jase asked conversationally.
“Mostly I hang out at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. They always have some sort of festival going on.”
“Maybe I’ll come down and check one out.”
I smirked, catching onto the fact that he’d just not-so-subtly invited himself to come hang out with me.
“Well, if you do, hit me up. I’ll show you around.”
“I need your number in order to hit you up,” he quipped.
I turned my head so he wouldn’t see the Kool-Aid smile on my face. I’d walked right into that trap, but I wasn’t mad about it.
“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in,” he pressed.
