Not If I Date You First

Chapter 14

ADA

"Party of two?" the concierge asks as Elodie and I walk into Fab for her birthday dinner. "Yes. The reservation is under Ada Datchery." I'm trying to sound chill and mature like I've been to restaurants like this tons of times before. This place is majorly bougie. Between the black marble floors and the string quartet playing an elegant rendition of a pop-rock song in the back corner, I half expect to be asked to leave.

Elodie catches my eye, mouthing, Oh, my God.

The light from the massive chandelier above us reflects off her shimmery, silver dress. Her hair is styled in long, loose curls. She's very forties glam. I refused to wear a dress, but I am wearing a sparkly, black tank with black skinny jeans and pointy-toed booties. For me, this is practically prom attire.

"Right this way, mademoiselles." The concierge ushers us inside. He's all smooth manners, slick hair, and fancy fake French accent.

We follow him, wending our way through tables draped in rich, golden linens. The ceiling and walls are inlaid with large, emerald-green tiles that shimmer in the warm, low light. A bar runs the length of the wall, the backlit shelves above it filled with expensive-looking bottles of liquor.

Els grabs my arm. "This is incredible."

"Right?" This place is so next level. The money I've made off my shots lately is going to come in handy since I'm sure my bill is going to be next level too.

"Your table." The waiter gestures toward a round, velvet booth. We sit down, and it's like sitting on a cloud. The table is set with immaculate white plates and crystal water goblets. The silverware is gold-plated, and it shines like it's been recently polished. The vase in the center overflows with an assortment of green flowers and at least a dozen gold-colored roses. They're shiny and match the decor. I reach out to examine one and realize it's a legit gold-dipped rose. I jerk my hand back. I don't know if Fab has a you-break-it-you-bought-it policy, but I'm not taking any chances.

"A, this is too much. What am I supposed to do for your birthday next year now?" Elodie gazes around the restaurant, wide-eyed.

"No idea, but you have ten months to figure it out." I grin.

"How weird is it that we're actually adults now?"

A waiter materializes and fills our water glasses. He recites their specials like he's done it a thousand times and takes our drink orders. This seems like the type of place where you should order merlot or champagne. I feel almost barbaric ordering a Coke, especially when Elodie asks for sparkling water with lemon.

"Since when do you drink sparkling water with lemon?" I mutter.

"Well, it's not like I was going to order a Mountain Dew in a classy joint like this."

I stick my tongue out at her and flick open my menu. I've never heard of half the things on it, but they all sound delicious. "What are we even going to order? Els? Elodie?"

I set my menu down. Elodie has her phone out, taking pictures like she's the paparazzo at the table. She's photographing the plates, the glasses, the chandelier, the golden flowers, even the booth.

"I'm documenting everything," Elodie says, flipping open her menu and snapping away. A few of the other diners look over at our table.

"Calm down there, Annie Leibovitz." I laugh. "How about we at least decide what we're going to order before you get us kicked out."

She pouts. "You of all people should understand."

"Well, of course, I do. I'm just not sure they do." I tilt my head toward the next table where a woman whose face looks like plastic is side-eyeing us.