The waiter came back to take our order.
“A black truffle, crayfish with white wine, black pepper sauce, and vegetables for me. A white fish on a bed of tomato pulp for my business date,” Skip ordered, smiled wickedly at me, emphasizing the word business.
As the pianist in a tux played jazz at the corner of the restaurant, we casually talked in between our meal, but I couldn’t help to not notice the smile on Skip’s face. He seemed to make this dinner more casual than I had expected.
“How about we choose a chocolate mousse with lime and a chocolate fondant,” he suggested.
“What can I say I like chocolates.”
Our dessert arrived a few minutes later. We dig in, and the taste of bitter and tanginess of the lime was an excellent combination—it melted in my mouth. Closing my eyes, I licked my
