Page 46 of The October Arrangement
“This is beautiful,” I said, placing the cloth napkin on my lap.
“I thought you’d like it.”
“Oh, so you thought about whether I’d like it? You gave it some thought first?”
“I chose a restaurant, Bella,” he sighed.
“That isn’t what you said, Simon.”
“Bella.” His tone was firm.
“I’m just making an observation.” I smiled.
A man in a dark suit approached the table.
“Mr. Montclair. Good evening.” He poured water from a fancy pitcher into our glasses.
“Good evening.” Simon smiled.
“May I get you something to drink other than water?”
“I’ll have a double scotch. Bella?”
“I’ll have a cosmopolitan, please.”
“Coming right up.”
I looked around the restaurant. “This place must be impossible to get into.”
“It can be.”
“And you just happened to get a table the same day you asked me to dinner?”
“Yes,” he said, looking over the menu.
“How?”
“I called.”
“Of course you did.” I laughed.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You live in a completely different New York than everyone else.”
“I made a reservation,” he said.
The server walked over and set our drinks down.
“Can I ask you something?” I stared at him.
“Of course, you may.”
“How far out are you booking reservations?”
“I believe right now there’s a three-month waitlist.”
After he took our order, I stared at Simon.
