Page 26 of Betting Brett

Aweekhaspassedsince the confrontation with Darlene. The days seemed to blend together, underwritten by the ever-present worry of something being out of place. Even I had trouble keeping positive. I couldn’t shake the feeling that my mother’s words were a veiled threat. My usual upbeat mood was being kneecapped by my own mother. It was fucked up and frustrating, but through it all, Andy was right there. He tried to make my life easier however he could, whether it was helping with Izzy’s homework, picking her up from practice, or having coffee ready for me before I left for work in the morning. Little things that amounted to mountain-sized gestures.

I want to do something special for him, to show him just how much he means to me and how much I appreciate him. So while Izzy is with Jen, tonight is date night, and I don’t want Andy worrying about a single damn thing.

I'd heard about "Luna's Garden" from a coworker, apparently, it’s a new hidden gem in Shafter Falls that’s perfect for a romantic evening. This is our first real official date, and I want it to be memorable. The evening air is cool and refreshing as we make our way to the restaurant. Andy looks like a fucking movie star, dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, his hair styled to be messy yet perfect. I can't help but steal glances at him, my heart swelling (along with something else of mine).

"You clean up pretty well," I teased, nudging him playfully.

He chuckled, shooting me a mock offended look. "Excuse me? I'll have you know I always look this good."

I laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Oh, I know. I just like reminding you."

We continue our teasing as we walk, and by the time we reach the restaurant, we are both in high spirits, ready for a night of fun, romance, and good food.

The restaurant is even more beautiful than I'd imagined and better than any of the Yelp photos showed. Twinkling fairy lights hang from the trees outside, casting a soft glow over the tables by the windows that sport large bouquets of huge yellow sunflowers and stalks of fresh lavender. Soft jazz music plays in the background, mixing with the conversation, clinks of forks on plates and glasses against glasses.

We are led to our table, a secluded spot near the back with a perfect view of the garden. As we settle into our seats, a waiter approaches with two menus, giving us a polite nod. "Good evening, gentlemen. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

Andy glances at the drink menu, his eyebrows raised in mock seriousness. "Hmm, what do you think, Brett? A bottle of your finest sparkling water?"

I chuckle, playing along. "Only if it's imported. We're fancy like that," I say, matching the same British accent Andy had thrown on.

The waiter, catching onto our playful mood, replies with a smirk, "Of course, sirs. I'll ensure it's from the most exotic of springs."

Andy winks at him and laughs. "Much appreciated."

As the waiter leaves, I lean in, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "You know, I heard they have this rare dish here called 'chicken alfredo'. Ever tried it?"

Andy feigns shock, his hand over his heart. "Why, no! Is it some sort of delicacy?" he says, the accent turning more botched with every word he speaks. I can’t hold back the laugh, leaning back in my chair.

"Oh, absolutely," I reply with a nod. "Only the bravest of souls dare to order it."

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, then, we must be adventurers tonight. Lead the way, Captain Brett."

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Captain, huh? I could get used to that.”

Andy leans closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Oh, trust me, there are many other titles I can think of for you."

I feel a flush rise to my cheeks, the innuendo not lost on me. "Is that so? Well, I'm all ears."

Before Andy can reply, a familiar voice calls out, "Brett? Andy? Is that you?"

Turning, I spot Sam and Paul approaching, their faces lit up with surprise. "Hey! What are you guys doing here?" They are both dressed to the nines as well, clearly sharing a date night similar to ours.

"Just enjoying a night out," Paul replies with a grin, his arm wrapped securely around Sam's waist. They look good together, wearing their happiness better than the colorful button-up shirts they have on. "We didn't expect to run into you two here, though."

"We thought we'd try something new," Andy says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And it looks like you guys had the same idea."

The four of us grin, and before we know it, we're joining tables, our intimate date turning into a fun double date. The conversation flows smoothly and is filled with laughter. It’s easy between us like we were all friends from the start. I look around at the smiling group, thinking we could easily form our own entertaining sitcom show.

Before I can pitch the show, a familiar face from town, Mrs. Thompson, approaches our table. I stiffen, fear of a confrontation flooding me. It doesn’t help that she looks very much like my mother—head of gray curls, a flowery print dress, chunky bracelets on her thin wrists. But to my immense relief, her face is warm and friendly as she draws closer.

"Sam, Paul," she greets, her eyes twinkling. "I just wanted to invite you both to our pool party next weekend. It's been too long since we caught up, and Greg has been saying how he misses hearing your stories."

Sam and Paul exchange a surprised glance before Sam replies, "That sounds lovely, Mrs. Thompson. We'd be delighted to come."

She nods, her gaze shifting to Andy and me. "It's good to see you both too. If you are all free, we’d love to have you over, too. And Isabelle, of course.”

“We’d love to join,” I answered, returning her large smile.

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