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After a few lazy hours of laying together and talking about everything under the sun, the two finally answered their hunger and got ready for dinner. Billie decided to wear a simple two piece set consisting of a black top baring her midriff and tailored trousers. Ezra had promised that their date would be formal, which is why he elected for a nice pair of black pants and a button down.
The two looked positively chic as they exited the hotel and headed for an exclusive Italian restaurant she had always dreamed of getting into. The reservations were only for their top clientele, and they were booked out usually months in advance. Ezra only had to make one phone call to get a spot.
Thankfully, the paparazzi hadn't yet been notified of their presence in New York. Though, it wouldn't last long. Billie knew the minute they left the restaurant, a mob of cameras would be waiting like they did every night to snap a picture of New York's rich and famous. Part of her wondered how she became a member of that category, and if dating Ezra Moore would permanently make it so. She had been so hellbent on forging her own path, but now she didn't mind being linked to him. It's almost a comfort.
"What are you thinking about?" Ezra asks with a cautious look.
They're seated in a more remote part of the restaurant, candles and dim lighting creating a romantic setting. Still, she can't manage to get her nerves in check. Her head shakes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Nothing," she assures.
"You can tell me," he replies, and it almost seems like he's bracing for the worst.
Billie reaches for his hand from across the table. "I'm just thinking about the cameras waiting for us outside," she admits.
"What about them?"
"I just don't want to make you do anything you're not ready for," she mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip.
"You don't think I'm ready for the world to know you're mine?" He questions with a chuckle, "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." And Billie knows that statement carries more depth than he'll ever admit.
"I know I just ..." She trails off, attention flickering toward the entrance of the restaurant. She can hear the hollering of the paparazzi from outside as a posh woman enters with her entourage.
He rubs a thumb over the back of her hand, eyes searching for hers until she finally looks back at him. "Don't worry," he assures, "This is a good thing. I'm taking my girl out on a nice date, and we're gonna have a good time. Forget about everything else."
"You're right." She offers a genuine smile before nodding. She wouldn't let anyone ruin what they fought so hard to have.
A waiter arrives at the table with a pen and pad in hand. "Can I get you something to drink besides water?" He asks before suggesting, "Maybe a bottle of wine?"
