CHAPTER 7
In all my years of dating, I’d never been out with a guy who screamed money from head-to-toe. The nervousness that nearly evaporated in the car returned full-scale when we arrived at the restaurant. The dark-paneled walls and candlelit room were far ritzier than where I ate with my friends. Even business meetings at my level didn’t happen in places like this. The forty-seven-dollar chicken on the menu made me wonder if it came with a foot massage.
After the hostess placed a linen napkin on each of our laps, an awkward silence descended. Despite our marathon conversation the other day, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
I studied the menu like there would be a quiz later. When I accidentally sloshed water all over the table, I jumped. This was the most awkward first dat
