I stared, watching the way the candlelight hit her face, watched the way her painted lips rubbed together as she took her time making a decision. Since her eyes were down, her eyelashes covered the top part of her cheeks, dark, thick, lustrous. Her fair skin was unblemished, a beautiful complexion that indicated she drank a lot of water and very little caffeine. She had such soft features, almost like a doll. Her brown hair was in curls, and right now, she had it down over one shoulder, thick and wavy. Despite the curls and hair spray, I suspected her strands were soft, easy for fingers to slide through.
She set down her menu. “You know, I want the steak, but I also want the gnocchi…so I’m just going to do the gnocchi.”
Tess returned with our glasses. “Did you decide?”
My eyes stayed on Cleo.
She went first. “I’m going to have the gnocchi. The asparagus is fine.” She handed over her menu.
Tess turned to me. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the steak medium well.” I handed her the menu. “She’ll have the same. Bring the gnocchi as an appetizer.”
Tess didn’t question my orders and took the menus before she walked away.
I kept my eyes on Cleo.
She looked surprised. “Wow…this is the nicest date—dinner—I’ve ever been on.”
“Get what you want.”
“That’s a lot of food…”
“Take it home with you.”
She nodded. “Very good point. I don’t cook much, so it’ll be nice to have something to throw in the microwave.”
Better than the frozen burritos.
She brought her wine to her lips and took a drink, the color of her lipstick smearing against the glass.
I didn’t touch mine. With my forearms on the table, I looked at her, comfortable, relaxed. There were very few people I could be myself with, to just sit there with an intense expression on my face without talking. My short conversation with Matt had been overwhelming because he said so many words but took too long to get to the point. Cleo wasn’t like that. She made every word count, didn’t prolong the conversation by rambling on. She never once questioned my behavior, accepting me for being different from everyone else. Even my conversations with Tucker were difficult at times because I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say.
She picked up a piece of bread from the basket and ripped off a chunk. “Ooh, this is the best bread I’ve ever had.”
I didn’t touch it.
She took a few bites before she looked at me. “So, where are you going to take Derek when he comes back?”
My son was the easiest thing for me to talk about. “Hayden Planetarium.”
“He’ll love that,” she said with a smile. “Especially if we do a private tour. He can have all the time that he wants.”
“We can do that?”
She smiled. “Haven’t you learned that I can do anything by now?”
I smiled back. “You’re right.”
Her lips fell immediately, her eyes turning serious. The bread was still in her fingertips against the plate. “You have a really nice smile. You should do it more often.”
My lips relaxed into their usual position. “Doesn’t come naturally to me.”
“I think it does. Just under the right circumstance.” She started to eat her bread again.
The waitress brought the gnocchi and set it between us.
“You’re going to help me with this, right?” She grabbed the spoon and served the pasta onto her plate, next to her bread. “A man should never make a lady eat an entire plate by herself.”
When she was finished, I scooped some onto my plate. The pasta was slathered with olive oil, cheese, and a sprinkle of parsley. It was good, a nice change for my taste buds from my usual diet.
“Oh man.” She finished her bite. “I think this is the best thing I’ve ever had.”
I chuckled. “You just said that about the bread.”
“No, I said it was the best bread I’ve ever had.”
“So, is this the best gnocchi? Or the best thing ever?”
She sighed. “It’s definitely the best gnocchi. But I think it might be the best thing ever—besides desserts.”
“You like sweets?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you actually not like them? Or you just have the discipline not to eat them?”
I ate the last piece off my plate. “Sugars serve no purpose to the body, other than spiking blood glucose, insulin, triggering fat production, causing diabetes… So, I just stay away from it.”
“What about everything in moderation?”
“It’s fine. I’m just not one of those people. When the food serves no purpose, I have no desire to eat it.” Sometimes people teased me about it, asked me a million questions about my dietary preferences, and it got so annoying that I just ignored the questions altogether. But it didn’t feel that way with Cleo.
“You had cake on your birthday.”
“Yeah…special occasion.” That memory would live forever in my heart, my brain taking a snapshot of the moment, memorizing the sound of the crickets in the grass, the way the fire cast a glow over my son’s face, the way my chaotic world stood still…for just a moment. “I was actually happy.”