Page 18 of The Suite Life
My heart stops.
‘Wait, this is seafood?’ I check, gesturing down at the cooked breakfast foods in front of me.
Even I can hear the hint of alarm in my voice, so I offset it by smiling like a maniac.
‘Yes, of course,’ he replies. ‘Everything we serve is seafood, presented as other foods. You would never know, would you? Were it not the theme of the restaurant.’
You would if I’d taken a bite.
‘Unbelievable,’ I tell him. ‘Good work.’
‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘Dig in.’
I pick up my knife and fork and hover them over my plate. Think, Gigi, think.
‘Oh, no,’ I say, dropping my cutlery theatrically, taking my left hand in my right hand and holding it out in front of me. ‘It’s my late auntie’s ring, I’ve lost it.’
Roscoe’s brow furrows with concern.
‘Did you definitely wear it today?’ he asks.
‘I wear it every day,’ I lie. ‘Oh, now that I think about it, I remember hearing something hit the floor when I was waiting outside, I never considered that it could have been me who dropped something.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he reassures me. ‘I’ll go look.’
Wow, he really is great. I almost feel bad for deceiving him but, come on, he isn’t going to be very happy if I tell him I think his food is vile.
With Roscoe out of the way, I fill up another poo bag and drop it into my handbag.
Roscoe returns, a slightly worried expression on his face. Yep, I feel terrible.
‘I couldn’t find it,’ he tells me.
‘It’s okay,’ I reassure him. ‘I’ll check back at work. I might have taken it off there.’
He softens into a smile.
‘You’ve cleared your plate again,’ he says happily.
‘Yes! It was delicious, but I’m actually so full now,’ I tell him as I rub my stomach for effect.
‘Are you sure?’ he replies. ‘Because I made a special dessert, just for you. I thought we could share it, and then maybe you can interrogate me. I think I’ve seen all I need to see here.’
He smiles – of course he does, because he thinks he’s found a girl who loves his food so much she clears her plates in minutes.
Dessert is definitely something I can do, and I am starving, for obvious reasons.
‘Oh, go on then,’ I say with a bat of my hand. ‘You’ve twisted my arm.’
‘I’ll be right back,’ he says.
I sigh. At least I know dessert will be good but, as for what will happen if I get a second date, I’m not sure how exactly I’ll walk this one back. I’m not going to count my chickens yet.
Roscoe returns with a beautiful cupcake with hints of pink and expertly piped buttercream on top. Starving, I smile at the sweet treat before grabbing it and taking a big bite.
As the flavour registers on my tongue, Roscoe’s smile turns mischievous.
‘As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, it’s a smoked salmon and cream cheese cupcake,’ he says proudly.
