Page List


Font:  

I shiver, and goose bumps scatter across my bare arms, though I’m the furthest thing from cold.

“Hey, guys! Over here.” Matt waves us toward the bar area. They’re standing at a high-top table, four drinks waiting. “Our table is almost ready. But they have to give us the spiel first.”

“Spiel?” I ask.

“Yeah, you know. Explain how it all works.”

I glance at Ethan, but he looks equally baffled. This isn’t our first time eating at a restaurant. It’s not like they need to show us how to use a knife and fork.

“Is that Armani?” Veronica asks, eyeing my attire with a mixture of surprise and envy.

“It is.” I smooth the silky bodice. “You like it?”

“It’s nice,” she says with a shrug, downplaying her initial reaction as she smooths the hemline of her basic black cocktail dress.

Between the two of us, she’s always had the superior wardrobe, but for once, thanks to Brynn, I’m not the least-stylish sister. My skin tingles as I recall Ethan’s whispered compliment from seconds earlier.

“Carmichael, party of four?” A tall, spindly man wearing dark sunglasses approaches our table.

“Yes, that’s us.” Matt raises his hand.

“Welcome to Media Nocte.” The man accentuates the restaurant’s name in a way that makes it sound Latin or Italian. “Is this your first time dining with us?”

“It is,” Matt says, once again speaking for the group.

“Excellent. We always love virgin blood.” The man grins, and I wonder, not for the first time, why he’s wearing sunglasses inside. “I’m Rowen, and I’ll be your server this evening. Tonight’s menu is a five-course meal, preselected for your dining pleasure.”

Wow. Five courses? Matt wasn’t kidding when he said this place was fancy. Once again, I’m touched and impressed by the gesture.

“Media Nocte is Latin formidnight, and it’s our great pleasure to be your first dining-in-the-dark experience.”

Wait. Our what?

“By consuming your meal entirely in the dark,” Rowen continues, “each flavor is enhanced and accentuated by your lack of sight.”

My heart stops. Did he say we’d be eating dinner in thedark?

As if reading my mind, Rowen says, “I assure you, the experience is quite safe. So, if you hear someone scream, please don’t be alarmed. One of your fellow patrons has merely stabbed themselves with a steak knife.”

Matt and Veronica laugh at the server’s dark-humored joke, but I haven’t heard a word since he said we’d be dining in the dark. Without lights. Sans the ability to see. I can’t think of any other ways to communicate my worst nightmare.

“In all seriousness,” Rowen continues, “safety is our highest priority. Well, that and the finest, most inventive cuisine in New York. All our servers, including myself, are legally blind, which means we’re quite skilled at navigating without sight. We guide you to your table and will help you locate your seats and silverware. There are also glow-in-the-dark markers that lead to the restrooms and emergency exits. However, please only use them if absolutely necessary, since it makes it harder for us to maneuver safely. Lastly, to maintain the integrity of your dining-in-the-dark experience, we ask that you surrender your cell phones in the lockers provided. They may be retrieved at the end of your meal.” He gestures toward a wall of small metal cubbies with keypads. “I’ll give you a moment to finish your drinks and dispose of your cell phones and will return shortly to escort you to your table.”

“See. Told you this was the hottest restaurant in town.” Matt beams. “How cool is dining in the dark?”

“You can’t be serious.” Ethan’s voice is dripping with disapproval.

“What do you mean?” Matt asks innocently.

“This is so typical of you two,” Ethan mutters. When it’s obvious Matt didn’t hear him, he says a little more loudly, “Quincy is afraid of the dark, Matt.”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since forever.” Ethan sounds really irritated now, and I don’t bother mentioning that my fear of the dark only stems from the time I got locked in a closet for four hours during a game of hide-and-seek when I was five. A game where neither of my siblings ever intended to look for me.

“Shoot. I’m sorry, Quince. I forgot. I feel like a jerk.” His remorse is so sincere, I make an on-the-spot, completely reckless decision.

“It’s okay. Honestly, it’s not as bad as it used to be. Let’s stay.” I remind myself that my fear of the dark is only paralyzing when it’s pitch black, and I doubt the restaurant iscompletelydevoid of light.


Tags: Rachael Bloome Romance