Unexpected | Simon Minter | Miniminter

Chapter Five

The exterior of the restaurant was unassuming, but the inside took my breath away. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, orchid centerpieces sat on each table, and stained glass windows spanned every wall.

"This looks a little fancier than pizza," I mused, gesturing to the live band on stage.

Simon shrugged. "Must've put in the wrong address."

"Easy mix-up, right?"

"The easiest." He smirked. "But seeing as how we're already here, maybe we should see what this place has to offer."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the wide grin spreading across my face. "You're cheeky."

"Or looking to impress you."

"Maybe it's working."

A waiter met us at the front counter, dressed in a tailored suit complete with a bowtie. After confirming our reservation, he brought us to a table for two in the middle of the room.

Simon pulled my chair out for me, swiftly tucking it in once I was seated.

I was pleasantly surprised by how the night went. Simon was the perfect gentleman, keeping our conversations light and full of compliments. For two hours, I didn't have to think about anything but the handsome man sat across from me. I wasn't anything more than a woman on a date.

A date. I forgot how good that felt.

I forgot how good it felt to laugh, genuinely, and worry about how I looked when I did. Though, he called the snort "cute," even if it was far from.

When the bill came, Simon reached for it first, of course. And I, of course, fought him. I wanted to show him that tonight was special because of him and I had to do something to repay him. He insisted that the man pay and the woman look beautiful and steal the attention of everyone in the room.

As the two of us strode out of the restaurant, hand in hand, Simon's phone rang in his pocket.

We paused at the corner of the street, Simon taking the call swiftly and irritably.

"I told you not to—Seriously? I'm with her and I am not going to leave—You know what? Fine." Simon slipped his phone into his jeans, an apologetic smile on his face. "My friends," he said, sighing.

"Is everything okay?" I brushed my hand against his, and he instantly folded his around mine.

"They're mad because I blew them off for you."

I paled a bit. "I'm sorry! I didn't know I'd be keeping you . . ."

"Elsie, no. Tonight with you was so much better than being in a stuffy club with them." He rubbed my thumb, tilting his head to the side. "Promise."

"Okay," I whispered, not knowing where the sudden shyness came from. And I didn't like it.

"Actually, I was hoping tonight could continue. I could introduce you to my closest friends, we can dance, and have a little less sophisticated fun." Simon's grip tightened. "If you want to, that is. No pressure."

I smiled. "Buy me a drink?"

"Anything you want."

"Then I'm in."

Simon practically leaped for joy. Tugging me along, he walked down the street toward his car. My eyes almost popped out of my head. It was nicer than anything I could ever afford.

Like the restaurant, Simon opened the door for me and waited until I was situated on the comfortable, expensive seat before closing it.

As soon as the engine purred and Simon peeled away from the pavement, my window rolled down and I leaned against the door. I stared at the bright lights of the shops and street lamps as they flew by. It reminded me of the way the city looked the night everything changed, five years ago.