I smile as my answer, thinking of the crappy Chinese food I ate last night. Though this place looks way fancier than my neighborhood standby China Restaurant. When we enter the building, we’re immediately enveloped in the cool, dark atmosphere. The interior is very chic, with dark walls and mirrors, golden lit sconces and sleek furniture everywhere. There’s a gorgeous girl standing behind the black lacquered hostess stand, her blood red lips pouting as we approach.
“We have a reservation at seven-thirty for two,” Cade tells the hostess in a hushed voice. It’s quiet throughout the restaurant even though it’s busy, and I can hear the tinkling music in the background.
The hostess shoots him a bored look before checking her reservation list. “Name?”
“Cade McDougal.”
Any time I start dating a guy, I imagine his last name as mine. Amanda McDougal. Amanda Winters McDougal…
Has a decent ring to it.
Does this make me a psycho? Maybe.
Probably.
“Ah yes.” The hostess taps her finger on the list, her black nail polish gleaming in the light. “McDougal. Two for seven-thirty.” She lifts her head, sending us both a withering look. “You’re late.”
“By what? Two minutes?” Wow, look at me being so snappy. The hostess glares at me, quietly fuming.
Without a word, she grabs two heavy menus and heads deeper into the restaurant. Cade settles his hand against my lower back as we follow after her. I’m not surprised at all that she seats us at a tiny table close to the kitchen.
“What a bitch,” I tell him after she’s gone and we’re seated at the table.
Cade winces. “I’ve heard this place has great food, but snotty service.”
“She’s like the queen bee of the snots,” I agree, flipping open my menu. I try my best to contain my sticker shock, but dang, this place is expensive. And it’s not just regular Chinese food either. It’s fancy Asian fusion, which I love, don’t get me wrong. I just have no idea what I’m supposed to order. Since Cade’s never been here before either, how much help is he going to be?
We’re both going over our menus, comparing notes and trying to figure out what to eat when I hear my text notification ding from deep within my purse. I ignore it, fighting the impulse to check who it is.
When it dings again two minutes later, I must physically freeze up or give off a certain aura, because Cade says gently, “Go ahead and check it.”
I offer him an apologetic smile as I reach down for my purse. “Sorry. It’s just—no one ever texts me on a Saturday night.”
Cade grins. “Not even for a hookup?”
My smile stays in place. I can’t believe he just said that. “Not usually, no.” I almost say, I’m not that type of girl, but I hold off. Sounds too over the top.
I pull my phone out of my purse to see I have a text from a number I don’t recognize.
You still use this number?
Frowning, I contemplate ignoring the text. But curiosity gets the best of me.
Who is this?
The answer is immediate.
JT
Who? Oh…
Jordan freaking Tuttle.
I shove my phone back in my purse and drop it to the ground, focusing all of my attention on Cade. This is about getting to know him tonight, not being hung up on the past. Good ol’ JT is part of my past.
If I’m lucky, Cade could be part of my future.
“Everything okay?” Cade asks.