Page 88 of Wingwoman
“Is that a plan I see hatching in that brain of yours?”
“Not hatching… fully hatched. I think you and I are more alike than you realize.”
She ignored the bite of pork belly, opting instead for a bite of the grits, her face twisting as she chewed, then swallowed.
“You didn’t like the bite?”
“I can still taste the pork, even in the grits. I didn’t expect a grain to taste so fatty.”
Dammit. I forgot she didn’t eat pork.
“Burgers are fatty, too,” I said, bringing my glass of wine to my lips to take a sip.
“Yeah, but that’s like, hidden fat.” She poked at the discarded the pork belly with her fork. “This just looks like crispy blubber.”
I snorted.
Literally snorted red wine out my nose and right onto the white linen tablecloth.
In turn it made Hope laugh. She ducked her head, covering her snicker with her palm as the server came rushing over with a rag to mop up the dribbles of wine.
“Mr. Gabriel! I’m so sorry,” she said, as though it was her fault I did a spit take of wine all over the table. “Are you feeling okay?”
Am I feeling okay? I put on my best sickly face and shook my head, looking up at the server. “You know, I don’t think I am,” I said. “Chef DeLongue knows what a fan I am of his work, but I’m afraid my palate is affected by this bug I’ve caught. Could I reschedule our reservation for another night?”
“Of course,” the server replied. “Chef will set you up with a to-go package, of course. You know you’re welcome here at any time.” She paused and leaned forward, whispering, “Shall I pack your photographer a to-go bag too?”
Hope blinked, clearly surprised that our server was in on the ruse. But of course the restaurant knew. I wasn’t about to make the photographer pay for her own Michelin star meal when it was my restaurant of choice.
“Yes, please,” I whispered back. “I think we were fortunate enough to get some good shots initially.”
“Very well,” she said with a nod, then hurried back into the kitchen.
“Was that part of your hatched plan?” Hope asked.
I shook my head slowly. “No, that was just the perfect opportunity to get us out of here sooner, so I took it.”
“You’re full of surprises,” Hope said, tipping back her glass of wine.
“Oh, just you wait.” I gave her a wink.
* * *
Hope groaned, dropping what was left of her double cheeseburger back on the plate. “That was so good,” she said. “But I don’t think I can eat another bite without my stomach exploding.” She fell back in the cushioned booth, her hand drifting to her stomach.
“Mmmhmmm.” I’d finished my burger at least ten minutes ago. Although, I had to admit, I was surprised she ate as much as she did. These burgers were the best around, but they were also massive. Chef DeLongue aside, Texas doesn’t do small portions… usually. “I know Texas is known for Tex-Mex and Barbeque, but we know our way around some burgers too.”
“Basically what you’re saying is that Texas can do it all?” she asked.
I pointed finger guns at her with a click of my tongue. “Now you’re catching on.”
“Normally I’d argue with you, but that was seriously the best burger I’ve ever had in my life.”
I grinned. “You should send your compliments to the chef.”
“You know what? You’re right, I should!” Hope stood up on the seat of her booth and shouted over top of everyone’s heads. “Hey, Nina! My compliments to the chef!”
She did a ridiculous little bow and I reached across, tugging her back down. “Sit down, you nutjob!” But I couldn’t help but laugh too. “Is that Diet Coke laced with something?”
