“Please, we both know you couldn’t stick to that.”
“The food? I totally could.”
“No, keeping your hands off me.”
She grins and shrugs. “I have very good self-control.”
“Liar. You’re practically salivating at the thought of kissing me right now.”
“I’m salivating at the thought of two lobsters. You’re just dessert.”
I laugh at that again, and I want to hold her hand, but I stop myself. We’re still in dangerous territory right now, and it’s better if I don’t take any needless risks.
The restaurant is called Angelo’s. It takes another ten minutes of walking, but for some reason that time just slips past as we joke and laugh together, heedless of the danger we’re in.
Inside, the warmth brings a flush to Clara’s cheeks. I give the hostess our name and kiss Clara softly, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’re the hottest date I’ve had in a long time,” I say.
She grins at me. “I doubt that.”
I shrug. “Think what you want, but you’re a fine piece of ass, Clara.”
She rolls her eyes, still smiling. We follow the hostess back to a little table situated in a back corner, the one I specifically requested. I slip the girl a fifty, as promised over the phone a few hours ago.
Clara settles in and I order wine. Once it arrives, we toast.
“To our first date,” I say.
“To dating my professor,” she adds. “And hopefully not getting caught.”
I laugh and sip the wine. Clara makes it taste amazing.
“How’d you find this place?” she asks me. “I’ve been going to Monray for years now and I’ve never noticed it.”
“My Google-Fu is strong,” I say simply.
“Of course it is. You’re a computer nerd, after all.”
“What do you think you are?”
She shakes her head. “Oh, no. It’s cool when a girl’s into computers.”
“That’s what all the computer girl nerds say.”
“Plus, I’m young. Computers are cool now.”
“So that makes me cool, too.”
She sighs like she’s lecturing her stupid grandfather. “No, no, you don’t get it. Computers were dorky and lame back when you were into them, like, a century ago.”
I glare at her. “I’m not that old.”
“Whatever,” she says, waving me off, grinning maliciously. “The point is, all the dorks went into computers back then. Now, though, cool people get into networking and CS. So all the current computer nerds are actually… awesome.”
“Sounds like a really complicated denial,” I say.
“Think what you want.”
“Honestly, if we’re on this topic, I’m going to lay out some beef.”
“Oh yeah? Beef?” She waggles her eyebrows. “Do you know what that means, grandpa?”
I ignore her. “Your generation is insane, you know that? You guys are all so willing to dump all your personal info online, you don’t care what these big companies are doing with any of it. And then we all find out, oh, gasp, Facebook and Google are selling every single detail about your life! And you’re all outraged, as if you guys didn’t let it happen.”
“Your generation built this mess,” she points out. “We were just born in it. All this is just… the way things are.”
I sigh a little. “Yeah, I know. Each new generation gets used to the shitty mistakes of the last. I just hoped you guys might start solving problems instead of embracing them.”
“You’re too jaded,” she says. “My generation is solving problems, but unfortunately we’re saddled with so much student loan debt and so little opportunity that we can’t really do all that much. Thanks, baby boomers, by the way.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. You’re living in a freaking utopia. I mean, being born American is like the luckiest thing possible.” I hesitate a second. “And I’m technically Gen X”
“I’d rather be born Swedish, or Canadian, or Australian, or any other modern country that guarantees healthcare,” she says, ignoring the Gen X bit, of course.
I sigh. “Now we’ve gotten too far off topic.”
She smiles at me, reaches across the table. I take her hand in mine and she squeezes it.
“Listen, grandpa. It’s okay. I know you’re too old to get these newfangled ideas.”
I grin viciously and lean closer. “First of all, it’s Daddy.” She blinks, a little surprised. “And second of all, you think any of this is new territory? We’ve been fighting for all this stuff for a long time.”
“Okay, okay,” she says softly, smiling back. “I get it.”
“Good. You need to learn to respect your elders.”
“How am I supposed to do that? The only elder I ever spend time with is constantly trying to get in my pants.”
I laugh and release her hand. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you, parading it all over town.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. I’m only parading it for you.”
I stare at her for a second. “Damn right,” I say softly, and the waitress comes over to take our orders.
She doesn’t get the double lobster, which I’m a little disappointed in. But that doesn’t matter, because the conversation continues to flow right up through dessert.