The first indication I was out of my depth was when we arrived. A man in livery came out to the car, opening Jamie’s door, then mine before holding out a hand. Did he need a tip? We didn’t really do that in Australia, but maybe here… Oh shit, the keys. This was a valet service. I handed them over reluctantly, not really loving the idea of letting someone else drive my car, but I had to pretend as if this was all natural to me. When Hayden announced he was going to take her somewhere cool like axe throwing, I needed to do something to top that, and so I held out my arm and then escorted Jamie into the restaurant.
“Good evening, did you…?” The waiter at the door looked up and then grinned. David was a high-end fashion model in his spare time, but the demand for them in Australia was not great, so he worked here as his regular job. “Hunter!” He held out a hand and we performed a complex little handshake we’d come up with when bored out of our minds waiting to walk the catwalk. “How’s it going, man? And is this your lovely lady?”
I wanted to say yes, that she was mine and snake my arm around her waist as I tugged her closer, especially when David seemed to look at Jamie way too long, but instead I turned towards her.
“This is David, an old modelling buddy. He helped us out tonight.”
“Did I ever. I got you a private room. This influencer party pulled out at the last minute, so I managed to get you guys in. Come this way.”
I needed this to be the first time of many. People turned to watch us pass as we walked through the elegant dining room, but I imagined it was Jamie that they stared at. Her hair was all twisted up and pinned behind her head, but little tendrils had escaped and my fingers longed to trace each one. The deep V of her dress gave me tantalising glimpses of her breasts, and I was willing to bet more than one guy here wanted to peel the silky fabric away and see if the skin there was softer. David came to a stop out the front of a screened off room, then slid Japanese-inspired doors before ushering us in.
“Oh wow…” Jamie gasped, then looked up at me. “Are we expecting anyone else?”
A long table was set up with glassware and gleaming cutlery.
“No, unfortunately the room was reared for the booked party,” David said, “but I’ll have someone remove the other place settings.”
“Just us,” I told her as I moved behind the chair she’d selected, her eyes going wide as I pulled it out, then pushed it under her when she sat down. I took up position on the other side of her, soaking in the view.
“So did you want to start with some drinks?” David asked. “Some wine, maybe?”
“Jamie?”
“Wine, for me?” She snorted and then cocked one eyebrow. “Remember when Millie and I got into that cask wine?”
I grimaced.
“Pretty sure we were holding back both of your hair and cleaning up all damn night,” I replied. “We told you one glass each.” They’d followed the letter if not the spirit of our directions, filling up these massive tumblers full of wine and sculling it. “But I’m fairly confident they don’t sell Chateau de Cardboard here, so…?”
“One glass,” she said to David with a shrug.
“Bring us something you’d recommend,” I told him. “Red made her sick, so maybe a white. Something not too sweet.”
“You’ve got it. A waiter will bring you your drinks, but in the meantime, here’s the menu.”
He handed each of us a chunky leather folio, and I opened mine up, ready to make a selection when I encountered my first problem. The menu was written in another language, and if I had to guess, it was French.
“Ahh… Hunter.”
“Yep, I know, I know.” I squinted my eyes, as if that would help, but it didn’t. Strange spellings swam before me, not resolving into anything that resembled English at all. “So did you fail high school French as well?—?”
“I didn’t even take it,” she replied, a thin thread of panic in her voice. “I did Italian instead.”
“Right, right, so… escargot sounds alright?”
“Isn’t that snails?”
I grimaced and then looked up, seeing a similar look on her face.
Hayden threw axes at a wall. He bought her a Coke and then kissed her. Brock took her to some pizza place after work, and I had to try to top all of that. I wanted something grand, something special, and I was fucking things up at the first hurdle.
“Google translate!” she said, dragging out her phone. “We have to use it sometimes when dealing with Japanese parts distributors. It’s not perfect but… Swordfish pearls balsamic?” Jamie looked up. “What the hell is that?”
I was out of my depth completely, I had to admit. Each of us struggled to decode the menu’s contents and got nowhere.
“Hand lime pearls?” I said. “What the hell is a hand lime?”
“How about salmon jam?” Jamie added. “Or lamb haunch crust?”