Boaz looked at me and set his face with a look that was different from his others; it was unnerving. My fingers tightened around my thumbs, and my pulse raced. “Luca, if you do not order something, I will order one of everything on the menu for you.” I swallowed hard. He was not kidding. I would hate to look him in the face when I was trying to hit a small ball out of a big field.
“I’ll have the salad you suggested,” I said. I vaguely remembered the salads being reasonably priced.
“And she’ll have the fourteen-ounce ribeye,” he added, closing the menu and the discussion. The waitress grabbed the menus and ran.
I didn’t like being managed. More than that, I should have been considered. This guy was something else. If it weren’t absurdly rude, I would have left him right there. Instead, I
