Page 10 of Keep Vegas

“A chef’s bite. It’s a tiny constructed pre-appetizer to get your palate ready.”

I pick up a fork, and Tony shakes his head. He picks one up and places the entire thing in his mouth. I follow suit. It’s creamy and rich and tastes a bit like the sea. It’s not bad, and there’s a weird crunch that I don’t want to ask about. But I survived that one.

We both toast with our tiny next bite, and I pop it into my mouth. It’s like popping boba but really bitter. I swallow it down and finish my water. I can’t entirely hide my grimace.

“Not a caviar fan?” My eyes get wide. Like I’ve had that before. I look at his plate, and he’s not eaten his. “Me neither.”

Which leaves the frog. Oh God. It looks like something is smeared on it.

“Don’t think. Just eat.”

He pops it into his mouth, chews, and swallows it with a big smile.

“I love foie gras.”

“Oh. Not frog leg but foie gras.” That’s so much better. I pop it into my mouth, and it’s like an earthy butter with a pop of citrus. There’s a sweet bit to the chew and then a touch of heat on the end. It’s sensational. I’ve never tasted so many things in one bite.

“No, it was both.”

I smile and purse my lips. “Of course it was.” I straighten my back a bit and decide to brave walking in this dress and go to the bathroom. I retrieve my purse from its pedestal and place my napkin on the table. But before I know it, my chair is being scooted back, Tony is standing, and I’m being guided away.

“The restroom is just here. Do you need any help with anything?”

And what the hell will they do in the bathroom with me? I push open the door, and sure enough, another freaking person is working in there. Shit. I don’t have any money. I bolt out, and the bathroom guide is waiting for me. I push past her and get to Tony.

I whisper in his ear, “I don’t have a tip for the bathroom lady.”

He laughs and pulls out his wallet. He hands me five euros, and I kiss his cheek. It’s just about my under-the-table per-hour rate at the thrift store. That’s a nice haul for the bathroom lady. Depending on how often these people pee. If I were her, I’d cut the busboys in on the tips and make sure these people were hydrated.

“I’ll get you back,” I say.

“No need. The bathroom’s on me tonight.” He smiles and sips a glass of wine that’s appeared. I hurry back to the bathroom, give the woman the money, and sit on the toilet for a minute, collecting myself. I’m way over my head here. I bite the bullet and use my data, I shouldn’t, but I google him.

“Holy shit.” Anthony Ladd has a lot of zeros after his name. My gut reaction is to want to run my double-wide trailer ass out of this restaurant and far away from the man so obviously out of my league. But staring at his face, I have a change of heart. I won’t let him always take me to this kind of thing. And I won’t let him always pay for me because I don’t want him to know just how opposite our bank accounts are, but I feel different around him.

He makes me smile all over, and I don’t want to give that up because he’s rich. Like billionaire rich. But to me, he’s just Tony, and maybe he doesn’t have a lot of people around him who think that way. Perhaps I could be the person he trusts not to want something from him other than himself. I have that, and it won’t cost me a thing.

I’m guided back, and there’s a brand-new napkin for me. Why on earth would I need a new fancy folded napkin when we haven’t even really had anything to eat? It’s not like I had ribs and got sauce everywhere.

I pull my skirt down as low as I can. I sense people watching me, and I let the guy scoot my chair back in. I cover myself the best I can and pick up my menu only to set it right back down. I whisper shout across the table, “Tony.”

“Mak?”

“Order for me.”

“Really? How do you feel about offal?”

“I don’t feel awful, just hungry.”

“Offal. Not awful.” I do not know what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Whatever is fine.” I’m not eating a single thing that I can’t freely identify. I pull my dress again and squirm a bit, trying to fit in. I’m pretty fucking sure I never will.

Then I look at him. And he’s staring at me adoringly. He’s oblivious to everyone’s judgment, including mine. I reach out my hand for a second, and he squeezes it. Then another waiter arrives, I assume he’s the ordering waiter. I slide my napkins around my thighs like a skirt extension.

My dress crinkles a bit every time I move, and it’s starting to make me laugh. I stifle the giggle and look around. Then I look into his face again, and it’s solid and sweet. With his ivory skin, he’s just so damn sexy. I smile, sip, and bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t full-on laugh at how ridiculous this all is. Us playing adults in a place I’m not sure either of us are enjoying.

tony