Chapter 11
Riley
“Don’t you have to make a reservation for a place like this?” I ask as I stare at the sign above the door.
Coral Sushi and Steakhouse is one of the bay area’s ritziest restaurants. I’ve heard of it but honestly, I’ve never even driven by it. I mean, when your idea of a nice seafood restaurant is Red Lobster, places like Coral Sushi aren’t even on the radar.
But Cameron just smirks at my naivety, a gesture that might be empathetic and might come back to bite me in the ass. “I made one,” he says. “Right after you agreed to go out with me.”
“I mean I had to, didn’t I?” I ask as he holds the door open. “We’re together now.”
“Nothing like obligatory dragon rolls to spark the romance,” he says, placing a warm hand on my lower back as we walk through the door. Something in my chest sparks a little, a fiery feeling that makes my skin tingle and my mouth dry.
Heartburn most likely. The man is known for giving me anxiety.
“Do me a favor,” he says under his breath as the hostess leads us up a flight of spiral stairs to a high top for two on the balcony overlooking the restaurant, the water and everything else. “Smile.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, turning back to look at him and forgetting that on the tightly wound stairs, he is literally right behind me and his face is level with mine. So level that our mouths nearly touch.
“It means I have already seen two people I know who most likely recognized me too and they will probably be watching us most the night. It would be beneficial if it looked like you are happy to be here.”
After we sit down at the table, the waitress brings us waters and Cameron orders a bottle of wine.
“This is nice,” I tell him, not wanting to seem ungrateful, though I nearly choke when I see the prices. A bowl of garlic aioli edamame is eighteen dollars. And don’t get me started on the sushi rolls.
“Do me a favor,” he says while adding soy sauce to two tiny bowls, prepping the table like a natural. “Stop looking at the prices.”
“It’s kind of hard considering I’ve paid less for a week's worth of groceries,” I joke.
“Like I said. Smile. This is a date. Real or not, I am buying you dinner. Noah is with your neighbor. Enjoy yourself a little.”
“How much is a little?” I ask, skimming the menu again.
“Order anything you want.”
“Your words, not mine,” I say. I’m so hungry I’m practically drooling.
“You know, I didn’t even ask if you like sushi. Or if you’ve ever had it before.”
I drag my eyes up to shoot him a look. “Yes I have had sushi before. Granted it was from the deli at the grocery store. But I liked it.”
“How about, you let me order,” Cameron suggests as the waitress comes back with the wine.
“You don’t think I can navigate a fancy sushi menu?” I ask. Although to be honest, I don’t know what half of it is. But I’m also not picky.
“Oh I am sure you are quite capable. But considering your sushi experience is limited to deli lunch specials, I’d like to broaden your horizons a little.”
The waitress gives an unsolicited giggle as she sets the glasses down. “That sounds fun in more ways than one. I’d take him up on it if I were you.”
“I’m sure you would,” I say, folding my menu and handing it off to her. “I’ll have whatever my date recommends.”
Cameron proceeds to order a literal longboat of sushi for us as well as a starter of edamame. Then he passes off his menu and we are once again alone, sitting across the dark little table, lit only by a candle in front of us and the fairy lights overhead.
“Cheers to us,” he says, clinking his wine glass to mine.
“Cheers,” I echo, taking a sip. Maybe a gulp. If there is anything I love it’s a hefty glass of wine. “So is this what it’s like dating a doctor?”
“You tell me,” Cameron says. “I’ve never dated one before.”
“Do you date a lot?” I ask.
His mouth ticks with amusement. “Who wants to know?”
He’s fucking with me. This is all a game to him. Because he knows I as well as I do that being convincing is going to be important considering his status. Little does he know, I am very competitive.
“The woman you’re dating now,” I challenge him, matching his tone and smirk too.
We have a stare off for a hot minute before he breaks, reaching for his glass. “So tell me more about this woman I am on a date with. I should probably get to know her a little better if I’m going to put a ring on her finger.”
“Well, she likes wine,” I say, tipping my glass in his direction.
“I gathered,” he says with a wink.
A fucking wink. He needs to cool it.
“What else do you like?” he asks.
“I think it's your turn.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. I can’t play tennis with myself, Dr. Reinhart.”
“Alright. I hate tennis.”
I nearly spit wine out all over the table at that and cover my mouth with my black, cloth napkin. “What about golf?”
“Not my favorite either but doctors are supposed to enjoy it so I play. It’s more of a networking thing.”
“I hate shoe shopping,” I say.
“What? No. Every woman loves shoe shopping,” he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Not me. I have less than five pairs. I run them into the ground and then drag myself to buy another.”
“What do you like shopping for?” he asks as the edamame arrives. We both reach for a pod at the same time and our fingers touch. He pulls back and waits for me so I grab one and dunk it in the sauce.
“I don’t shop for myself much,” I admit.
“But if you did…if you could…what would you buy? If you could only spend it on yourself and no price tag or any other person, Noah included, was in the equation?”
I don’t have to think about it as long as I would have thought I would. The words come out of my mouth so quickly I almost surprise myself. “Throw pillows.”
I wish I had my phone camera out so I could take a photo of Cameron’s face right now.
“Throw pillows?” he echos.
“Yes. Every time I go to Target or any other home store, I always see aisles of small square pillows. Every color of the rainbow. And I always think…what it must be like to have enough extra money that you can just buy unique, quirky, wild little pillows for your couch or bed or wherever people put them.”
“People don’t use them as pillows,” he says.
“I know,” I grin.
“They are literally for decoration which I never could wrap my brain around.”
“I know!” My voice is getting louder. It’s probably the wine.
“Half the time they’re made out of really scratchy material or even beads.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. They’re frivolous and ridiculous and I want a mountain of them.”
Our food comes and I immediately snag a piece of the spicy tuna, topping it with wasabi and dunking it in soy sauce.
Cameron’s eyes watch my every movement and I suddenly feel self aware. I’m not usually this comfortable eating around men. There’s always speculation when a not-skinny-girl likes to eat.
“You like spicy food,” he notes.
I nod, covering my mouth. “I do.”
“I do too,” he says, copying me.
“What do you like to do for fun?” I ask. “Besides golf and tennis?”
He gives me a look and I smile at him in return. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“No,” I shake my head with a giggle.
“Arcade games.”
I stop chewing. “Like…Chuck E. Cheese?” I’m only half kidding.
“Or the Pinball Factory. Pints. Dart. Places that sell beer and not birthday packages for six year olds but…maybe that too.”
“That’s cute,” I tease.
“It’s nostalgic.”
“It’s precious.”
“At least I don’t daydream about owning fifty overpriced pillows,” he shoots back and we both laugh.
As we walk back to our cars, we take our time. Our conversational ping-pong carried out throughout the rest of dinner and until the bottle of wine was polished. And as much as I hate to say it, the man can hold a conversation.
I take a deep breath, letting the fresh, salty breeze fill my lungs. “Tonight was fun,” I admit, looking up at the sky. “I needed it.”
“You don’t get out much, do you?” he asks then quickly adds. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean…with Noah it must be hard.”
I sigh. “With Noah…everything is hard.”
“And his dad is just…truly M.I.A…”
“I don’t even know his dad’s name,” I say, then I look away. I rarely admit that to anyone.
“Do you know who he is?” Cameron asks.
I think of the best way to phrase it. “I know when it happened.”
He nods. But it’s not judgmental. Then he looks over at me. Brianna is right. He is very good looking. High cheekbones, defined jaw, deep blue eyes, flecks of shining silver in his dark hair.
“You look…” he starts then stops. Is he…flustered? Surely not. “I like your dress.”
“Thanks,” I say softly. I’m standing with my feet together, my hands clasping my sweater. Cameron is in front of me, a wider stance, his body only inches from mine. “Clearance rack…” I add and it makes him laugh.
I find myself smiling too. I also find my chin tilting up. Then…his face lowers towards mine.
“Oh, shit…” I suddenly gasp as my phone goes off in my purse. I know the notification sound because I have a different one for everyone in my contact list. “It’s Brianna.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, clearing his throat and taking a step back.
My stomach sinks. “It’s Noah. He has a fever.”