Boston's Man-Eater

XXXIX

Here we were—the grand Piero's.

It snickered as it recognized the man who failed to pay for a mere piece of cake, let alone afford anything but a glass of water.

But it was different now.

As I locked the car, she scanned our surroundings from behind the Louis Vuitton lenses.

"You look beautiful today," complimented.

She kept her silence, but a small smile played at her lips.

"Thank you, Keith."

Keith. Why was that music to my ears?

"I'd say you look riveting yourself."

I fought the urge to blush.

"Thank you."

"Shall we?" She linked our arms, and I smiled.

"Let's."

The manager approached us, presumably awaiting her faithful and very important customer.

"Good afternoon, Tess—Sir. Right this way," she said, and led us to a table at the far back.

And of course, whispers emerged from faces filled with desperate need for attention.

Tess didn't spare them a single glance.

She was always careful of where she directed her energy, an all or nothing motto she silently lived by as she never gave mediocrity of some sort.

In the beginning, you'd believe it's rude.

"What will you have this afternoon?" The manager who went by Greta said as we went through the menus.

I shouldn't have been surprised to find Tess' ocean eyes on me, but still, the billions of butterflies ruptured in my stomach.

I wondered why people linked those to something magical, I felt sick.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like what you see," I smirked.

"Then I guess you don't know any better."

"So, you do like what you see?"

"You're confused by your own idea."

I averted my gaze to the expectant Greta, then back at Tess, who was now skimming her eyes over the menu.

"I'll have carbonara with white wine—preferably chilled." 

Greta nodded before focusing on me.

I remembered my dinner with Tess, the delicious savory sauces that melted in my mouth.

"I'd like the spaghetti aglio e olio with lemon water please."

Close to $200 out of my bank account, and I couldn't have cared any less because it was all worth it.

"Good choice," Tess arched her eyebrow, and I smiled.

All too soon, that night reminded me of Derek.

I do admit that I had been totally reckless.

What would people think?

What was she thinking?

"I learn from the best."

"How is work coming up?"

"It's pretty great—I was promoted to junior editor," the slightest bit of pride glowed inside me.

"Really? That's wonderful news, Kyle," she smiled sincerely.