Chapter 24 Kennedy
kennedy
When I’m traveling, I always try to find unique places to eat.
Some place with great online ratings, good food, and an amazing atmosphere, but nothing too fancy, because usually I’m eating alone.
I know some people thrive on dining solo, and I do it all the time, but something about sitting in a fancy white napkin restaurant by yourself just feels odd.
And now here I am, in one of Dallas’s top restaurants, which has at least one Michelin star, where you have to spend an entire paycheck just to purchase an appetizer.
But I’m not alone. I’m on a date. A fake one.
And so completely out of my element. Perusing the menu is enough to make me lose my appetite.
There’s a seafood tower listed at ‘market price.’ What does that even mean?
Do they take you behind the building and remove a kidney as payment?
And you certainly can’t ask what the price is, otherwise they’ll think you’re cheap.
I like things to be spelled out clearly—here are the goods I will give you in exchange for this amount of money.
I shift in my seat as I continue down the menu.
Goddammit, half the menu is listed as ‘market price.’ I know this is nothing more than a publicity stunt, and I know he’s paying, but… fuck.
“Good evening; my name is Gary, and I’ll be the head server this evening,” a waiter says, approaching our table as another gentleman fills up my water glass and yet another one drops off a basket of bread.
“This is Nick and Brady; they will be assisting your table tonight.” I tap my nails against the back of the fancy as hell menu.
Three waiters feels excessive. “If you’d prefer sparkling water, just let us know, and we can arrange that.
Can I start you with any drinks before starting your courses? ”
I dart my eyes between Gary and my date sitting across from me. I feel like Jack at dinner on the Titanic, not knowing which piece of silverware to pick up first. Except Kathy Bates is not here to instruct me. Only a twenty-three-year-old kid who was born eating at these kinds of places.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
“Give us a minute with the drink menu, Gary,” Jordan says with a surprising air of confidence.
“Very well.” Gary bows his head, walking off to somewhere in the back of the restaurant.
Probably taking the kidneys of the folks from the table next to us, who did in fact order the seafood tower.
Jordan sets his menu down gently, propping his elbows on the table and lacing his hands beneath his chin. “I’m guessing this place is too fancy for you?”
“I just…do we need an entire team of waiters to serve us?”
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something I haven’t noticed before. A small smile creeps up on my cheeks seeing him like this. He’s in his element.
“I know, right? It’s a little ridiculous. Watch this,” he says with a smirk as he leans back in his chair and proceeds to take a large drink of his water. When he sets it down half-full, Nick waltzes over seconds later and refills the glass. “Thanks, man.”
I glance between the retreating man and Jordan’s now pristine drink.
“They never let your glass get less than half-full. It’s a game that Hannah and I used to play when we were little.
We would set it up so each of us would drink half our glass consecutively, so the poor guy had to keep coming back.
It was fun until our parents caught on and we got in major trouble.
I feel bad now, looking back on it, but I also saw my dad give the poor water refill guy a huge tip when we left, so it all worked out in the end. ”
“That was nice of him. Most people wouldn’t. Working in an industry catering to the wealthy, most people just expect that kind of service.”
He shakes his head. “Not Joseph Boucher. My dad taught all of us to respect and be kind to everyone. He didn’t put up with any goofing off either.” His cheeks heat. “I may have been in trouble quite a bit.”
I set my menu down, crossing my arms on the table. “Shocking someone like you wouldn’t be on your best behavior at all times.”
“Got me pegged on that one for sure,” he says with a smile, quickly looking down at the menu. “Do you know what you want to order yet?”
My shoulders slump, my cuticles shot and fully picked into a crackly state. “Is there a steak on the menu I don’t have to order by the ounce?”
His face falls. “Sadly, not here. I’m sorry…I know this isn’t your vibe. Hannah suggested it because she knew the press would show up when they got a whiff of us being here. Next time, we’ll go somewhere more casual.”
I narrow my brows. “Next time, huh?”
He stares at his menu as if he’s studying to take an exam. “Yeah. For sure. I mean, this is just for show. We can keep things low-key going forward. Just a couple of appearances here and there should do the trick.”
He was so confident a moment ago, and now it’s almost as if he’s…
nervous. That can’t be right. How can a guy this cocky and egotistical be nervous?
Maybe he gulped his water too fast? Of all the times I’ve seen him around our friends or with the team, he’s never been like this.
I shake the thought from my mind as I see Gary coming back.
Maybe I should test just how confident he is here.
“You know what? I’m really not a picky eater. Why don’t you order for both of us?”
His brows furrow as he looks at me like I’m half crazy, but the waiter is at our side now. What’re you going to do, Boucher?
Without missing a beat, Jordan turns to him and starts speaking.
“We’ll each have 4 oz of the snow beef wagyu, cooked to the chef’s preference, with a side of truffle frites, and a deep-fried lobster to share.
” He looks at me with curious eyes to see if that order is acceptable.
I nod as a heat pulls low in my core. Damn.
“Oh! And she’ll have a gin and tonic with a lime, Aviation if you have it, and I’ll have a glass of Cab.” He hands the menus back to the waiter, who walks off to place our order, then collapses back into his chair.
The entire time he was talking to the waiter, he seemed as though he was on top of the world.
But now? He’s back to getting ready to have his blood drawn while being deathly afraid of needles.
Am I really that scary? Am I blood-draw needles?
I let out a loud sigh that disappears into the quiet hum of the restaurant.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as he looks anywhere but at me.
I lean back in my chair, my arms still crossed as I study every inch of his expression.
Looking for what? I don’t know. But this is not what I was expecting from the prince of social media.
Nick comes by to refill my water glass…again…and the waiter returns with our drinks.
“Cheers to a successful…relationship,” I say, tilting my gin toward him, hoping to break the awkwardness with a toast. “So…I suppose since we’re here, we should probably share something about ourselves. Just in case nosy people start asking.”
His eyes brighten. “Yes! Like in the movie The Proposal.”
I lean forward, surprised he even knows one of my favorite movies. “You know that movie? The one with Sandra Bullock?”
He snorts. “Who doesn’t know that movie?”
“I just thought, maybe, that was a little…” How do I say, ‘you’re too young to know that movie,’ without making this age gap thing weird? “…before your time.”
He laughs, picking up his drink for another sip.
“Kennedy, I am the youngest of four siblings and the only boy. I was what you call a surprise addition to the Boucher family.” He smiles into his drink.
“My sisters are quite a bit older, and I love them dearly, but the amount of chick flicks I was forced to watch as a child should have been illegal. I can quote every episode of Gilmore Girls, I can sing every song from every High School Musical, and sometimes I sit around and watch Mean Girls for fun.”
“Seriously?” The word slips out as a half-laugh, half-snort.
“It’s true! Just don’t let word get out…I have an enforcer image to keep up.”
“I’m not sure how well you’re keeping that secret; I heard what went down at Hayes and Olivia’s wedding. Did you really recreate the courtroom scene from Legally Blonde?”
A wicked smile bursts across his face. “What, like it’s hard?”
I can’t help but let out a full-on laugh. “I’m impressed. I was bummed I couldn’t attend, and even sadder when I heard I missed that. It’s one of my favorite movies.”
His eyes light up a bit more. “Really? Wow. I had you down for a How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days fan.”
“Also a classic. But there’s something about a powerful blonde working hard to achieve what she wants, and realizing it’s more than just chasing after a man.”
He nods, the muscles in his jaw relaxing. The tension he had moments ago seemingly gone now that we’ve had some actual conversations other than ‘hi, we have to date now.’
“So, Jordan Boucher, what do you want to know about me?”