Page 114 of The Manny

Irritation shifted through me that he hadn’t consulted me at all. I assumed I was paying for my share of the meal. Shouldn’t I have a say in what we spent? Gritting my teeth, I tried not to react. Maybe he was just nervous and so he was trying to impress me or something.

Lucia returned with the wine and Dan made a huge production of sniffing the cork and sampling the wine. I kept telling myself he was simply nervous, and when he calmed down, he’d be less annoying.

“I’ll have the linguini and clams in white sauce,” I said to Lucia, when she returned to take our food order.

Dan laughed loudly. “Really? Don’t you know clams are an aphrodisiac? Oh, boy. You’d better not try and have your way with me. Or maybe I’ll let you.”

I forced a smile. “You’re confusing clams with oysters.”

“If you say so.” He gave another annoying guffaw.

Ignoring him, I handed the menu to Lucia. “I’ll also have the salad with ranch dressing, please.”

“Of course.” She turned to Dan. “And for you?”

“Hmmm.” Dan rubbed his chin. “I’m thinking of having the leg of lamb.”

“Excellent choice.” Lucia started to write on her pad.

“Wait a moment. I’m not a hundred percent sure yet.”

“Oh.” Lucia paused.

“Is the lamb slow roasted?” Dan asked.

“Yes. The meat is roasted for a minimum of six hours and served on a bed of onion, garlic, and rosemary. Does that sound like something you’d enjoy?”

Sucking in a breath, Dan replied, “Oh, I really don’t care for rosemary.”

“I’m sure we could accommodate you on that. The lamb will still be flavorful because it’s also served with a side of delicious gravy, made from the drippings of the meat.”

Dan gave an exaggerated sigh. “Unfortunately, I’m gluten intolerant. I assume the gravy is made with flour?”

“I’m afraid so.” Lucia bit her bottom lip. “Um… I suppose the cook could try to make a serving of gravy with corn starch instead?”

“That would be wonderful.” Dan barely wasted a breath before continuing, “Now, do you suppose I could have roasted potatoes instead of the rice pilaf?”

Lucia hesitated. “I don’t think we have any roasted potatoes on the menu tonight.”

“No?” Dan scowled.

“I’m sorry. No, I’m sure we don’t.”

“Boo. I’m so disappointed. I really had my heart set on the lamb with roasted potatoes.”

“We have mashed potatoes,” Lucia said hopefully.

“I don’t like mashed potatoes.” Dan gave another exaggerated sigh. “What to do. What to do.”

Irritation shifted through me. “I guess you’ll just have to settle for the rice. Or maybe pick another entrée.”

Dan leaned back in the booth, looking disgruntled. “I came here with Thomas because I usually get such wonderful service. I guess tonight is an off night.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I… I’d happily offer you roasted potatoes if we had them.”

Dan sniffed. “You sure about that? You don’t seem very concerned about my needs.”

“I… I don’t?” Lucia looked nonplussed.

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