Page 46 of Things We Tell Ourselves

He looks at his glass and offers it to her. “Try it.”

A grin spreads across her face. “Does it taste as bougie as it looks?”

Wade responds by tipping the glass toward her. She feels like she’s doing something she shouldn’t when she accepts it. It’s the closeness of it that makes her feel embarrassed to drink after a man she barely knows. A handsome, smart, funny man who makes her feel things she shouldn’t when he holds her gaze, just like he’s doing now.

Tipping the glass, the fizz from the carbonation tickles her upper lip before the water reaches her. She takes a modest drink, shutting her eyes as she swallows. Wade’s lowered his chin, watching her.

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” She passes the glass back, Wade’s shoulders falling as he takes it.

“Are you serious?” His genuine surprise amuses her far more than the fizz.

“If that’s what bougie tastes like, you can keep it.”

Wade takes another drink, swishing it back and forth between his cheeks before swallowing. “This is refreshing. Here, take another sip.”

“No,” Camille shakes her head dramatically as he offers her the glass again, “that tastes like a Sprite without the sprite, and…I like my Sprite with some Sprite in it.”

Wade sets his glass down with a thud. “You’re crazy.”

“No, you’re crazy,” she blurts, feeling foolish as soon as the words are out, but Wade just gives her his charming, one-sided grin.

“How am I crazy?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, looking around at the art on the walls. “Why didn’t you tell me that you owned this place?”

“It’s not like I can take total credit. I got the idea from Easton and some investment properties he’s turned around the last few years, and I wanted your honest reaction,” he divulges without hesitation. “People tell you what they think you want to hear when they know that you’re the one running things.”

She wants to tell him that it’s his money that makes people become ‘yes men’ in his presence, but he can’t help the wealth he was born into. Poor guy. “Well,” she crosses her arms over her chest, “I can’t speak to the food this place serves, but sparkling water aside, I dig it.”

“You dig it.”

“That’s what I said. A cool, hip place like this with amazing art, and it’s a secret—you gotta dig it.”

There’s that one-sided grin again. She could stare at him making that face all night long.

“Since you dig it,” he repeats, lowering his hands to his lap, leaning over, “what would you do with the second level after the renovation?”

The side door opens. More heavenly smells waft in. Adam has another tray and stand.

“It’s not my building,” Camille mumbles.

She watches Adam set a tray up beside the kitchen door and grabs each of the two bowls with soup spoons lying on the side of their plates.

“To start, we have our famous twice-baked potato soup.”

He sets the bowls down in front of them and hurries out. As good as it smells, Camille’s disappointed in the size of the bowls. It feels like she’s done after a few bites. Wade finishes up his bowl before her. She sets the spoon down, about to complain about the portion size when the door opens again.

“Your next course is ready. How was the soup?” Adam asks, looking at Camille.

“Fantastic. I want seconds.”

“Good,” he grins, collecting their bowls. He puts them on the tray and disappears out the door, returning in a flash with a wonderful-smelling second course on long, slender plates on top of a thick, wooden paddle. A wine glass balances precariously on either side of the paddle.

“For your second course, we have quail on a bed of grilled Brussels sprouts and a light rosé.” He sets the paddle down at the center of the table with notched-out circles on either side of the plate for the glasses to rest. Adam takes the serving spoon and sets it on Camille’s side of the table. “Enjoy,” he announces once the wine is in front of them. He hurries out the door.

The quail consists of four tiny drumsticks, each on top of their own small mounds of sliced Brussels sprouts topped with a light brown sauce. She scoops up a leg and half of the Brussels sprouts before handing Wade the serving spoon.

“That’s all you’re going to eat?” he asks, scooping up two legs, their Brussels sprouts, and the extra sauce drizzled on the sides of the plate.

---