Beautiful People | wlw

Eight: Food

Sharise picked Vera up from her hotel as the tangerine sun was kissing the horizon. She was wearing a deep purple jumpsuit tied at the curve of her waist, her locs pulled up into a high ponytail with a silver scrunchie. Vera was glad she had decided to change into the white sundress she had hesitated over. Sharise obviously hadn't meant date in the romantic sense, but Vera would have felt silly being underdressed when she was supposed to be so good at style.

Before she could decide whether it was appropriate to compliment Sharise's look, Sharise said, "I made a reservation at my favourite restaurant. I hope you don't mind. They get busy."

"That's awesome," Vera said. "I trust your taste in food."

If it was anyone else she would have asked whether there would be vegetarian options, but she knew practical Sharise wouldn't have forgotten to think about that, especially not after two weeks of buying her lunch. She was more right than she knew. It turned out to be an entirely vegetarian and vegan restaurant.

The server showed them to a table on the tiny patio, and Vera had to remind herself again that this was not a date, just a friendly dinner with a colleague, because despite all the little tables crowded together, this place was swooningly romantic. Huge tropical plants in pastel ceramic pots hemmed the stone patio, wide emerald leaves strung with fairy lights dancing gently on the warm breeze. Under a darkening sky streaked the colours of lavender and persimmons, the atmosphere felt lush and tropical, and Alex really could have taken some fucking lessons because this shoved the zoo several places down on the great-first-date-location list.

As they settled into the small wrought-iron chairs, their knees bumped together under the teeny round table. Trying to distract herself from her sudden desire to just let her bare knee rest comfortably against Sharise's warm thigh, Vera instead moved her legs away, hooking her toes behind the legs of her chair, and said, "Are you vegetarian, too? I didn't realize."

"Not entirely." Sharise picked up the wine menu. "I don't eat much meat but if I restrict too much I risk falling back into bad habits."

"Oh." Vera lifted her own menu to avoid prying further. Model mother and plus-size daughter--she wasn't surprised, just unexpectedly saddened.

Sharise flipped over the laminated sheet. "How do you feel about splitting a bottle of wine?"

Not a date, Vera reminded herself. "Sure, if you don't mind white. Not a big red person."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Vera narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"No, excuse me." Huffing, Vera prodded at the wine menu with one finger until Sharise's lips twitched at the corners and she set the page down. "You don't get to say something like that and then pretend you didn't say it. What do you mean, you're not surprised? What does preferring white wine have to do with anything?"

Vera didn't know what she expected, but it probably would have been some kind of dry, dark joke. It certainly wasn't for Sharise to say, "Because you're an artist. Red is grounded and heavy. White is light and dreamy and full of possibilities. Like you."

Vera blinked. "I thought I was just a fame-chasing bitch."

A proper smile caught Sharise's lips. "Are you a fame-chasing bitch?"

"That's what you called me."

"We all make mistakes. Some of us less often than others."

Vera still didn't know how to handle this version of Sharise. Before she could come up with an appropriately witty response, the server arrived. Sharise checked with Vera before ordering the wine (white; and Vera hadn't even got an answer as to whether Sharise preferred red), and then she said, "Their sharing plates are the best here. If you're okay with that?"