Her Little Helper

Chapter 4

*Abigail's POV*

I looked at Savannah with clear confusion written all over my face. "You want me to have dinner with you?" I asked, my curiosity completely overpowering any sense of manners that I had. "Why?"

"Well," Savannah replied with a chuckle. "I have the reservation, and I hate to waste it." My confusion hadn't subsided. If anything it grew with her response. "Plus," she continued. "I would love to get to know more about you, little miss Abigail." 

I didn't really know how to respond. That was the last thing I would have thought to happen when I was riding up here on the elevator, getting asked to dinner by the head of the company who just rejected me of a job. Though I was still unsure of what Savannah's intent was, I really couldn't pass up a free meal with how little money I had left in my bank account. 

"Sure," I said finally after a long moment of deliberation. This made Savannah smile wider than I had seen all day from her. "Where are we going?" I asked curiously.

"Well, the reservation is for Vincenzo's. How do you feel about Italian food?"

I was always a picky eater, and a lot of Italian food was just too far out of my comfort zone. But I didn't want to sound rude so I replied with a "Sounds good!" and a smile. 

*Savannah's POV*

I had sent my driver, Victor, to pick up Abigail at her apartment later that night before coming back by the office to pick me up. Abigail seemed nervously excited when I first entered the car. I don't think she was expecting me to send my personal driver to pick her up. I don't think she was expecting any of this, to be totally honest. But I couldn't be happier that it's happening. From the moment I laid eyes on that girl, I knew she was someone special. I hope that turns out to be true. 

Pulling up to Vincenzo's, I helped Abigail out of the car. She was wearing the same cream-colored sweater that she wore to her interview. It was an adorable outfit, though I hope she doesn't get any marinara sauce on that sweater. 

I had reserved a fairly quiet private booth, as I had initially intended to have a small business meeting with those flakey clients. But never mind them, I'm here on significantly more important business. 

Abigail hadn't said much during the car ride. I assumed she was quite nervous. To be honest, I was pretty nervous too. But when she sat in the circular booth, she smiled and giggled as she rounded the far side of the table. 

I laughed at how adorable she was. "Are you having fun there, Ms. Abigail?"

She giggled some more, her legs swinging beneath the table, several inches off the ground. "Hehe, yes!"

The waitress soon arrived at our table. "Good evening ladies, what can I get for you to drink?"

"I'll get a glass of Pinot Noir, please." I answered before looking over at Abigail. She looked nervously at the menu, then to me. "Do you know what you want to drink, sweetie?" I asked her. Her face immediately turned beet red with embarrassment. I leaned in and softly spoke to her. "Why don't you whisper to me what it is you want to drink, then I'll order it for you." 

Abigail nodded, still slightly embarrassed. Leaning closer, she whispered, "I want apple juice." 

I smiled and thought to myself. There's no way she isn't a little. I leaned back towards her, whispering, "Say it politely please."

She blushed some more, but quickly tried to fix her mistake, "Can I please have apple juice?" she whispered in her adorable voice. 

"She'll have some apple juice, please." I said to the waitress who wrote down our drink orders and handed us two menus.