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But thewayhe said it.
His voice was all husky, with a catch in it that confirmed this wasnota good idea.
I could cancel.
But . . .
I won’t.
10
Hayden
“I’d like number nine for two please.”
The host is making a face before I even finish. “I’m sorry, sir, we just sat number nine.”
“Did they reserve it?”
The guy doesn’t answer, at least not with words. If they had, I wouldn’t have bothered. I’m entitled, yes, but not a complete asshole.
I don’t try to be subtle as I take out my wallet and move around the host stand to hand the kid a fifty-dollar bill.
“Consider this a six o’clock reservation. I think there’s been a mix-up.”
I looked the place up on my way over, never having been to this restaurant before. The pictures didn’t do it justice. Aside from a tree growing right through the middle of the restaurant, spearing right through a table for eight, the rest of the decor is fairly standard. But there’s old brick everywhere, giving it a dark but cozy feel.
Unfortunately, like too many restaurants in the city, its two-person tables sit basically on top of one another. Except for table number nine. I can’t see it from here, but I know from the pictures it’s the only private one in the place, tucked around a corner.
By the time six o’clock rolls around, I’m already seated, drinking a beer, when Ada comes around the corner.
She looks different from the other two times I’ve seen her. Her hair is completely straight.
Similar to the last two times? Her wary expression.
“How did you get this table?”
I stand and stick out my hand.
“Thank you for meeting me after hours.”
I don’t mean it to sound illicit, but it does. Or maybe that’s just my imagination as her fingers wrap around my hand. Too soon, the handshake is over.
“Sorry it went longer than expected.” She sits across from me, looking around. “I’ve been in this place a hundred times and have never been able to snag this seat.”
She hangs her purse on the back of her chair.
“Guess I got lucky.”
The waitress immediately approaches us. “Can I get you a drink?”
Ada looks at my beer. “I’ll just have a water.”
The server walks away.
“I’m on the clock,” Ada says by way of explanation. Not that she owes me one. “And lucky to be, so I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“So am I.”
