“Thank you for taking me to dinner.”
He drank his wine.
“How long are you going to be mad at me?”
“That depends entirely on you, sweetheart.” When the bill arrived, he had his card ready and slipped it inside.
“We don’t only have to go to fancy places, you know. I’m fine with something more casual.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, Bo and Mie, McDonald’s.”
He stilled at what I said, like it was blasphemy. “McDonald’s.”
“What? It’s good.”
“I’m not taking you to f*****g McDonald’s.”
“You have me, Bastien. You don’t need to impress me with fancy dinners.”
“You think I’m trying to impress you?” He c****d his head slightly, on the verge of a scoff. “Boys impress girls with nice dinners. Men impress women by making them come. I take you to places like this because I don’t eat horseshit—and
