The cafe he took me to was not anything I would call affordable. It screamed luxury to me. The white linen on the table, the silver cutlery (or at least it looks silvery to me; I can't recognize real silver), the elegant rug on the floor, the partitions between the tables… Everything screamed expensive.
"If this is affordable for you," I hissed into Martinus' ear, as the Maitre D' greeted us, "I don't know what fancy would be."
"That would be a private room," he said, "but, since that would be inappropriate, I'd take you to a place with live music. Relax; this is the most affordable place I know."
I shrugged, released my hand from his elbow, determined to choose the cheapest item from the menu.
But then I got a menu that seemed to be just a list of food, with no price indicated anywher
