Veronica was in bed watching reruns of Bridgerton when I called her begging her to come over. I feel bad, but I also don't. The girl's rewatched Season 2 ten times already. Plus, I need someone to help me get ready for tonight. Because tonight is the big night. Tonight's the night that I've been waiting for.
The day after I gave him my number, Jimmy ended up texting me a plan for our date. We're grabbing dinner at this fancy restaurant called Europa Café. I hear people at Meadows talking about the spot all the time, which makes sense because members of Meadows are obviously dining at overly priced Michelin restaurants like that one.
I'll probably be so out of my element, which is why I need Veronica to approve my outfit choice before I leave my house. Pizza joints and hole-in-the-wall sushi spots are more my speed, not places where waiters are dressed in bowties. As much as I love nice things, I've never been able to just splurge frivolously on them. Especially, not now.
"Thank goodness you called me," Veronica remarks the second that she notices my outfit when I open the door.
I peer down at my clothes – a jean miniskirt, a white camisole, and wedges. "Is it that bad?"
"It's not...bad, per se. It's just...not great. And tonight, we're going for great." She pauses before entering my house. "Actually, you know what? Scratch that. Tonight, we're going for exceptional." She places her palms on my shoulders. "Say it with me, Rem. Tonight, we're going for exceptional."
I nod then repeat, "Tonight we're going for exceptional."
"That'a girl. Now, lead the way."
We head for my room and the second that Veronica makes it to my closet, she's literally tossing clothes in the air like it's nobody's business.
I'm able to catch a flying shirt in the air. "Hey. Careful. You're making a mess."
"So, we'll clean it up after." She continues to scrummage until I hear her say, "A-ha, perfect!"
"What?" I ask, looking up and trying to see what she's holding.
"This!" she says, showing me.
In her grip is a tight mini red dress that I bought for myself last summer.
"I can't wear that," I tell her, but she widens her eyes and shakes her head.
"Uh, why not?"
"Veronica, he's taking me to a 5-star restaurant." I take the dress from her grip and hold it up. "This is a bandage dress. It's not meant for 5-star restaurants."
She rips the dress back from me. "Says who? C'mon. Where's my friend, Remi? You know, the one who doesn't give a fuck? This dress screams, 'I don't give a fuck'."
"Exactly! I happen to give a fuck tonight, thank you very much. I'm trying to impress Jimmy, not scare him with my carefree attitude."
"There is so much wrong with that sentence, it's not even funny," she tells me. "First of all, have you seen your legs? With those alone, you'll impress the guy. And secondly, your carefree attitude is what makes you, you. Any asshole who doesn't appreciate that is not worth your time."
I huff, not because I disagree with her but because I know that she's right. Like I said, I have a lot on my mind and it's interfering with my confidence. But I need my confidence. It's what I love about myself.
I make a beckon gesture with my hand. "Hand it over," I order, and she smiles.
"That's my girl!"
***
2 hours later and I'm out the door making my way for Jimmy's BMW.
Jimmy's on the passenger side, holding the door open for me.
"You look beautiful," he says with a smile, and my heart skips a beat.
"Thank you!" I smile back before sliding in.
It takes us about 10 minutes to get to the restaurant, and the second that we get there, I'm looking for signs at how Jimmy treats the people around him. He said 'thank you' to the valet guy, greeted the maître d with a handshake, and spoke nicely to our waiter. So far, I like what I see.
I look around the restaurant, mind-boggled at the beautifully decorated interior. There are 5 massive crystal chandeliers that hang from the ceiling and the floral centerpiece on each table has got to cost more than my monthly salary. There's also a piano guy that's currently playing a rendition of 'All of Me' by John Legend.
The waiter hands us each a menu, and you know that you're at a luxurious restaurant when they don't state the price next to its respective item.
"Do you like caviar?" Jimmy asks, and I peer up from my menu.
"I've never had it before."
"What? No way. Really?"
"Really," I laugh.
"You've got to try it. Is it okay if I order it as an appetizer?"
"Of course," I tell him. "Anything else you recommend?"
"The tuna carpaccio is," he scrunches his fingers together and brings them to his closed lips, making a smooching sound, "chef's kiss."
"Then we gotta get it!"
He trails his index finger down the menu. "Grilled artichokes, for sure. Burrata. Spaghetti Pomodoro, and the Dover Sole. How does that sound?"
Sounds like the bill is going to be over 200 dollars.
"Perfect," I tell him.
YOU ARE READING
Under the Stars (Sequel to Across the Pond)
Romance*The sequel to Across the Pond* Brooks Caldwell is the bane of my existence. Has been ever since I've known him. And, of course, luck would have it that I'm forced to spend my entire summer in his presence when I'm offered a job at the posh country...
