Page 45 of Things We Tell Ourselves

“Evening, Mr. Bloom,” he dips his chin at Wade. “Ma’am,” he adds, turning to Camille, dipping his chin in the same manner. With one hand, he opens and sets the tray holder near the door. He sets the tray on top of it and grabs the pitcher of water.

“It’s looking good out there,” Wade remarks, watching him fill Camille’s glass.

“Gotta love a full house,” he replies, switching the pitcher for the unopened bottle of sparkling water. “It’s the second night this week.”

“I could hear how much our chef is loving it, or is it just because I’m here?”

The waiter gives him a bashful smirk. “You know how Chef feels about surprises.”

And just like that, as if summoned, the door to the kitchen swings open, and a man wearing a white apron strolls in carrying the savory smell of freshly cooked food.

“Bloom, how are you?” the man greets with an accent she can’t place.

The waiter, unscrewing the top of the glass bottle, jumps to move out of the way as Wade stands to greet him. “Phillipe! The place looks great.”

They exchange a boisterous shake.

“I’d like you to meet Camille. I flew her in from L.A. to show her what you can do.”

“Nice to meet you,” she acknowledges and is about to extend her hand, but the way he examines her, his smile turning to distaste, keeps her hands in her lap.

“You’re not on any kind of diet, are you?”

Camille shakes her head, looking sideways at Wade.

“Keto? Gluten-free?” Chef Phillipe continues.

Wade looks more entertained than concerned for his guest.

“Nope,” Camille verifies, smiling up at him. “Just a boring, regular diet of whatever sounds good.”

With that, Phillipe’s smile returns. “Boring…not tonight. The owner of The Hive rarely makes an appearance, so prepare your taste buds for a special treat.” He looks at Wade. “We have something new for you. Adam,” he says to the waiter, who’s pours Wade his sparkling water, “no menus. They’ll get the preview tonight.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Phillipe disappears in haste. Camille looks at the waiter as he takes the tablet from Wade.

“What’s the preview?” she asks, handing him her tablet.

“A little of everything, and his latest creation.”

Camille nods, glimpsing at Wade, who appears perfectly content. What on Earth does that mean? Judging by Phillipe’s questions, at least she knows that there’s going to be some meat. She wonders if asking for a soda would be out of the question. She takes it a step further, asking for what she really wants.

“Can I get a glass of the top-shelf margarita?”

“Not necessary,” Adam counters, moving to the side door. “The preview comes with matching beverages.” He glances at her glass of water. “Lemons for your water, perhaps?”

Camille struggles to hide her disappointment. “Sure.”

“You can get whatever you want,” Wade reassures after the waiter is gone.

What she wants to say is, “clearly I can’t,” but instead she says, “it’s fine,” picking up her glass of water to show him just how fine she is to fly all the way to Sacramento for a glass of water. Wade grins as he picks up his own glass of water.

She lowers her glass, nodding at his glass full of fizzy bubbles as he takes a drink. “What does sparkling water taste like?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve never tried it?”

“I’ve never been to a restaurant that offered it.”

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