He laughs. “No problem. I’ll let you put a hidden camera in my place.”
I let out a horrified gasp. “Don’t give her any ideas.”
The hostess comes over and says our table’s ready. We move to a booth big enough to seat six. The menu is extensive. Curie skims for a second, then says, “We have to get shots first.”
“Exactly. What’s a celebration without shots?” I say.
When our tequila shots arrive, Curie raises her drink. “To Pascal and her new job. May she kick financial ass.”
“Hear, hear,” Court says.
We clink. I knock mine back fast, then bite into a slice of lime as the alcohol heats my sinuses.
“So when are you starting?” Curie asks.
“Next Monday,” I say.
“Wow. Quick.”
“I had three weeks off.”
She nods. Joe and Court decide to get another round, and we knock that back after a toast to Curie and Joe’s newly wedded bliss.
The food arrives soon.
“This is a great find,” Court says after handing me a tortilla for the fajitas for two that we ordered.
“I know all the good places.” Curie grins, waving her fork with a piece of tomato from her taco salad skewered at the end. “If you ever need recommendations, just let me know.”
“I don’t know how much he’s going to call you,” I say after a bite, which is delicious. I give her a look through my lashes, dying to see her hilarious reaction. “His brother owns Z, and—”
“What?”
“—I bet he knows all the exclusive digs.”
“Really?” Curie asks Court, wide-eyed. She’s almost never wide-eyed in person—just in her Instagram feed when she wants to exaggerate.
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God. That’s awesome.”
He shrugs. “It isn’t bad.”
I rub his shoulder. “Especially when you want to have people cut the line.”
“You figured that out?” He grins.
“It occurred to me later that maybe you had something to do with it.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Curie asks. “You could’ve come over and invited her to the VIP line.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t want to impress anybody with my brother’s club.”
That’s so like him. He uses connections he has—like the private jet he borrowed from his rich buddy—but doesn’t try to pretend that he’s the one with all the things or influence. He always seems to want to be judged for the kind of person he is. And that’s sweet and honest. Maybe even slightly vulnerable. And definitely endearing.
As the dinner goes on, Court and Joe start talking about their favorite sports teams. They both love football and basketball, so they go on and on about predictions for draft picks and blah blah blah. It gives Curie and me a chance to huddle away.
Curie gives me a look over a glass of water. “You’re crazy about him.”