The Love of My Family

(3) The Love of My Family

I glanced at Gaspard over the top of my phone and snapped a picture.

It was going straight to Mark and Angie, I thought with a smile. Angie knew how to dissect a guy's expression so well. My phone made a loud, camera-shooting noise, and I darted looks around the restaurant. The waitress snorted. My cheeks heated with embarrassment.

Gaspard smirked at me. "Trying to tell your mother you found a boyfriend? It won't work you know."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Aside from his adorable cocky attitude, Gaspard really seemed like such a nice guy. And I was interested. I cleared my throat. "Anyways, do you know what you want?" I tugged at the waist cinch on my dress. It seemed a little too casual. Pulling off my cardigan, I inspected the crowd gathered. They're must be something going on. Coincidentally, we were at a French restaurant.

While I looked around, I could feel Gaspard's eyes on me. Without glancing at him, I said, "A picture lasts longer."

"Yeah, I bet that's why you took one of me, already."

I couldn't help it: I laughed at myself. "Shutup and order." With a chuckle, he summoned the waitress. She appeared in about two seconds, with an overly perky smile and hair teased so high it looked like an anthill crawling up her head. I had to laugh at the way it was done. Covering it up with a cough, I noticed a middle-aged couple staring at us to the left. I glanced over at them and offered a polite smile.

"..what you want?" Gaspard asked me.

I snapped out of my trance. "Excuse me?"

He looked amused and answered for me. "She'll have the Green Market Vegetable Plate."

The waitress scrawled it on her notepad, smiled, and said, "I'll bring it over soon."

I frowned at Gaspard. "How'd you know I wanted the veggie dish?"

"You told me you were a vegetarian," he pointed out.

"I did? Wow, I must have forgot."

He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, am I allowed to call this a date? We do have three more weeks in New York." My breath stopped for a second. Then my phone vibrated before I got to answer him. I picked it up. It was Angie.

I held up a finger to Gaspard who smiled and gestured in a way that seemed to mean, Go ahead.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"Who's the hottie?" Angie demanded. Her voice seemed too loud. The couple stared some more.

"Keep your voice down, we're in a restaurant." I lowered my voice, too. "His name is Gaspard and he's an adorable French man who offered to take me on a date tonight. He's going to Paris in a few weeks with me." I knew he was listening; I hoped that answered his question.

Angie groaned. Her voice didn't drop a single note. "You didn't want to go out with anyone in Cali, now you head off to New York and meet some gorgeous mystery guy from FRANCE? You have to be joking! He was hot!"

I grimaced. The table next door was looking at us. Me, unfortunately, to be specific. Gaspard's smile widened. He heard what Angie said about him.

"Bye, Angie. I'll call you later." I snapped my phone shut on her protests and sighed. She would definitely be ringing my hotel room, tonight. "Tell me you didn't hear Angie and her outrageously loud voice?"

He grinned. "I'll tell you whatever you want me to." I rolled my eyes. The waitress arrived and set down the plates and left. I stared at mine, slightly disgusted. It had meat on it. Gaspard glanced down and saw it. Then with a regretful twist of his mouth, he handed me his salad. "I'll get your order fixed. Meanwhile, eat mine. I know your hungry."