Jake hovers annoyingly in a nearby corner as if he’s considering stepping into a pool that may or may not have a live wire snaking through the bottom of it. I glance over at him and roll my eyes. “Yes, Jake, what is it?” I ask him, beckoning him over to me.
He slinks over and hands back the menus that I had given back to him when we first arrived. “Um, it appears we’re out of your favorite item tonight. Could I invite you two to maybe look over the menu for another choice?” he asks in a nauseatingly accommodating tone.
I sigh heavily. “Yes, that will be fine. Can we get some bread while we’re deciding?” I ask impatiently, wondering how it’s possible that they’re out of a seventy-five-dollar cut of wagyu beef that they have always served me without fail.
Jake nods and disappears back through the kitchen doors to fetch us a bread basket and report my obvious displeasure to the cook.
Millie glances up at me from her menu. “Um, it’s really alright if we just look at the other options for a bit,” she says, her voice uncertain.
I doubt she’s ever eaten in a place like this before. It must be difficult for her to know what’s worth the wait and the money and what tastes like complete dogshit. An unrefined palate might find that it all tastes like dogshit, or worse, nothing.
Maybe I don’t like it here so much.
“Actually, do you want to just go somewhere else? I only ever order one thing here, and I don’t like change, so I’d rather go somewhere more familiar to you,” I propose.
She looks at me for a moment without a word, planning her next move and questioning herself as she contemplates her answer. “I’d honestly kill a man for a bowl of yellow curry,” she states, relieved that she’s been let out of this impossible contract of opulence and pageantry for so little gain in terms of dinner fare.
“Where were you thinking? I know of a really good Thai place like ten minutes from here,” I reply, and her face lights up completely.
My shoulders drop six inches from relief. I shouldn’t be so stressed out by such a dainty little woman, but Millie has me on edge. I want to show her the world, or rather, that I can give her the world.
We both agree to leave and get dinner at the Thai restaurant instead, much to the feigned disappointment of Jake and his cohorts. Expensive meals can wait. It’s not every day that I get to break down the walls and dig into some real food with the most beautiful woman imaginable. I’m giddy like a teenager on their first date.
“Do you want to ride with me?” I ask, knowing full well she’ll be more than impressed by my car. It isn’t even my favorite that I own, but I figured that being too flashy on the first date would be in poor taste. You can’t play all your cards at once.
“Um, sure, that sounds fine,” she replies hesitantly, and her trepidation both troubles me and fills me with a strange and poorly understood sense of pride. The fact that she’ll agree to ride with me even when she knows it would be an unwise move on her part as a young, small female shows me that she likes me enough to be willing to take the risk.
When I guide her over to my car, I can see her try to conceal her impressed expression. Sure, she knows I have money, but this might be the nicest car she’s ever seen in her life.
“Wow, this is really nice,” she says as she sits in the passenger seat, glancing around at the immaculately maintained interior.
“Yeah, it’s alright,” I reply, only half-joking.
She idly strokes the leather upholstery, gazing out the window and up through the skylight as if she’s never had time to admire the world around her. Just being in a car that isn’t ten years old has given her this sense of pure wonder. It feels a little bit like driving a new puppy home for the first time.
The drive to the restaurant is brief, but I can sense that heat building up between us again as we talk. Even though it feels as though so few words are exchanged, there’s a tension in the air that could burst a blood vessel if either of us openly acknowledged it.
Millie sits in her seat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap as if she’s overcompensating for how badly she wants to pull her dress up and feel my hand between her legs. I sit beside her, both hands on the wheel to keep myself from reaching over and squeezing her soft thighs.
Not yet. I don’t want to rush it like I did last time. I need this to last.