Page 43 of The Doctor's Simple Life

CHAPTER 21

REECE

We drive for about an hour to get where we’re going. I tried to keep our destination secret, but Sienna has this way of catching me off guard and managed to get it out of me that I’m taking her to a nice restaurant.

She keeps telling me that I don’t need to do anything for her. When I told her I wasn’t going to change my mind, she told me that there are plenty of good restaurants in Silverbell and that I don’t need to take her anywhere fancy, and I certainly don’t need to pay for it.

I’ve ignored every one of her complaints. I’m doing this whether she likes it or not.

And she will like it.

Yeah, the restaurants in Silverbell might be okay, but that’s all they are. Okay.

The people here are very kind and care about their jobs or whatever, and I’ve not been too horrified by the food standards, but I want to take Sienna somewhere properly exclusive, somewhere where she can feel special for a change. Somewhere that feels like a real treat.

And I know just the place.

When we got home, I told her to put on something nice. She argued with me about it, of course, but eventually she gave in and agreed. Then she came downstairs in a gorgeous emerald green evening dress, swirling around her knees, fitted to her torso and showing off her cleavage. She’s beautiful.

I told her so, and she scoffed.

We’re almost forty minutes into the drive when Sienna finally asks, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to.”

“Yeah, butwhydo you want to? Why are you doing this for me?”

“I thought I should take you on at least one proper date before…”

“Before what?” she asks, cutting me off. Then her face flushes as she realizes I said date and meant it.

But I don’t finish the sentence. I can’t bear to saybefore I leave.

If I don’t say it, then I can continue living in my delusion that this is never going to end.

When we get to the restaurant, Sienna’s face falls. She freezes in place, staring at it, trying to decide if I’m joking with her or not.

I grin. “It might not be much to look at,” I say. “But this place has a Michelin star.”

“It does?” she says, her mouth dropping open in shock.

I can understand her hesitation. It looks slightly too run-down to be real. The neon sign in the window has seen better days. The nameplate above the door could really do with a revamp, and the paint is peeling. But inside, it’s awesome.

“Just trust me, okay?” I say.

She frowns but follows me anyway. We step inside, and the girl standing at the door smiles warmly at us. “Reservation for Dr. Westbrook,” I say, “for two.” She confirms. I nod, and she leads us to our table.

Sienna’s mouth dropped open the moment we stepped inside, and it hasn’t shut. The outside of this building isn’t much to look at, but on the inside, it’s all pastel colors and impressionist prints. Of course she was going to love it.

“This is amazing,” says Sienna as we sit down.

“I made sure to book the best table,” I say.

She gives me an almost despairing look. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Who said it was for you?” I scoff. “I like it in here too.”

Her eyes narrow slightly as if she’s trying to work out how much I am joking. Then she shakes her head as if to move on. I’m glad. I don’t feel like arguing while we’re here. I want this to be perfect.

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