* * *
When I arrived at the fountain where we were supposed to meet, Everett was already there, waiting. I approached him hesitantly, scanning his outfit as I did.
‘Was I the only one who dressed up too much?’
But it turned out Everett wasn’t wearing his usual robe today. I felt relieved, knowing that my efforts in picking out the best outfit from my wardrobe this morning hadn’t been in vain. It was clear that Everett had also put some thought into his attire, as he looked like he had just stepped out of a tailor shop.
“Miss Diaz,” Everett greeted, extending his hand toward me. It was becoming quite familiar, this gesture of escorting me. When I placed my hand on his, he smoothly guided me toward our destination.
“I’ve made a reservation at a restaurant. I hope it’s to your liking,” he said as we walked.
The restaurant he had chosen was conveniently close to the fountain.
“This place…” I began, recognizing it immediately. Even someone like me, who wasn’t up-to-date with trends, knew this was one of the hottest spots in the capital.
“Was it difficult to get a reservation?” I whispered to Everett as we waited for the waiter at the entrance. Everett looked away nonchalantly as he replied.
“It wasn’t too hard.”
“That’s lucky. I’ve always wanted to visit this place,” I said, smiling at him gratefully. Everett’s ears turned slightly red, which made me wonder if his outfit was too warm.
My curiosity was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter.
“Sir Everett Rojas, and your companion, Miss Carolina Diaz?” the waiter confirmed.
“Yes,” Everett replied.
“Please, follow me to your reserved table,” said the waiter, a man in his thirties who carried himself with the professionalism of someone with two decades of service experience.
After seating us and handing over the menus, the waiter stood by, waiting patiently as we pored over the surprisingly extensive menu.
Seeing our indecision, the waiter spoke up, “When couples visit, they often order the couple’s set menu.”
The waiter seemed confident that we were a couple, and an awkward silence fell over the table.
‘If I deny it, Everett might feel embarrassed,’ I thought. So instead of saying anything, I simply smiled and asked Everett, “The set menu looks good. Should we go with the recommended dishes?”
Everett, looking slightly dazed, nodded in agreement.
‘His cheeks look a bit red, maybe he gets warm easily,’ I mused. I asked the waiter to open a window, and Everett’s complexion returned to normal.
I had feared that we would sit in awkward silence until our food arrived, but as the color returned to Everett’s face, he started leading the conversation. Though he was still a bit reserved, he seemed more at ease than before, making it easier for me to join in as well.
Before we knew it, the appetizers arrived, interrupting our conversation.
“Our couple’s set menu is themed around the stages of love,” the waiter explained as he served. “This appetizer represents the fresh, exciting feeling of falling in love, with a tangy lemon dressing to add a refreshing note…”
Once the waiter left, silence filled the small room again.
‘This couple’s set is more intense than I expected,’ I thought, suddenly feeling my mind go blank.
It took several long seconds before I could think of something to say.
“It looks delicious. No wonder this place is the most famous restaurant in the capital,” I commented, trying to focus on the food as I picked up my fork.
“Indeed,” Everett agreed, following my lead and taking a bite of his salad.
The food provided a convenient excuse to avoid conversation as we both concentrated on eating our appetizers.
‘They said there was lemon dressing, but I can’t taste it at all,’ I realized as I mechanically brought another bite to my mouth. Still, I kept eating, knowing that stopping meant I’d have to find something to talk about.
‘Let’s just eat,’ I decided.
We devoured the appetizers with an enthusiasm that suggested we hadn’t eaten in days. Thankfully, the main course, a steak, arrived just in time to prevent the food from running out.
“Here is your filet mignon,” the waiter announced, breaking the long silence that had filled the room once more. After a detailed explanation of how the steak represented mature love and had been slow-cooked for hours in red wine sauce, he finally left us alone again.
We quickly picked up our forks and knives.
“Let’s dig in.”
“Thank you for the meal.”
After exchanging these brief words, we both focused on cutting into our steaks. While it had initially been a way to avoid awkward conversation, I soon found myself genuinely concentrating on slicing through the meat.
‘This knife isn’t very sharp,’ I thought. Although the steak itself was tender, my knife struggled to cut through it, making a mess of the precious juices. I was about to ring the bell to request a new knife when Everett, noticing my struggle, offered, “Would you like me to cut it for you?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I handed him my plate.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, to which Everett responded with a curt smile. He took the knife, now slightly warm from my hand, and began cutting the steak.
Though more skilled than I, Everett still had trouble with the dull knife. His cuts were better than mine, but not by much.
‘Even he’s having trouble,’ I noted. I was about to ring for a new knife again when something unusual happened.
For a brief moment, the knife in Everett’s hand gleamed with a golden light as if reflecting sunlight. The light grew brighter and then slowly faded, leaving Everett with a knife that now sliced through the steak with ease.
‘Never mind, it’s working,’ I thought, watching as the steak’s surface was cut cleanly.
“Sir Rojas, you’re really good with a knife,” I said, clapping my hands in amazement at what seemed like a magical trick.
Everett, whose flushed face had begun to cool, blushed again.
‘He must have used a lot of effort to cut like that with a dull knife,’ I reasoned.
But as Everett cleared his throat, the golden glow faded completely from the knife.
“It’s nothing…” he started to say, but then—crack!
His casual dismissal was interrupted by the sound of the plate splitting in half. The steak, now perfectly cut, slid off the broken plate.
Everett’s eyes widened in shock, a rare sight that made me burst into laughter.
“You didn’t need to cut through the plate too!” I teased, wiping away tears of laughter from the corners of my eyes.
“It must’ve been a weak plate,” Everett muttered, avoiding my gaze.
“Let’s go with that,” I said graciously, accepting his excuse.
Still giggling, I rang the bell to order a new steak. While we waited, I couldn’t resist teasing Everett further. His reactions were surprisingly entertaining, making the earlier awkwardness between us vanish completely.
By the time we finished our meal, including dessert, we were much more at ease with each other as we left the restaurant. The early afternoon sun still shone brightly outside.
‘I could invite him for tea as a thank you,’ I thought. But that seemed too much like a typical date. I suddenly remembered Connie’s playful teasing about Everett and me. Shaking my head slightly, I pushed the thought away.
Just then, Everett asked, “Do you have any other plans for today?”
“No, not really,” I replied honestly.
“Then I’ll escort you home,” Everett offered, extending his hand.
‘This pattern feels very familiar,’ I thought, amused by his textbook-perfect manners.
But that didn’t mean I intended to refuse. I gladly accepted his offer, letting him escort me home. Our conversation flowed more smoothly now, the earlier tension having melted away after the plate incident.
Before I knew it, we had arrived at the familiar green-roofed apartment building where I lived. Everett stopped in the same alley where I had bid him farewell the last time.
“There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, but go straight inside, Miss Diaz,” he said, turning to leave right after saying goodbye. It was a considerate gesture, allowing me to head home comfortably.
‘I thought he was just a stoic man,’ I reflected. But despite the initial awkwardness, our conversation had been pleasant, and spending time together had felt surprisingly natural.
I watched him for a moment before calling out, “Excuse me, Sir Rojas.”
Everett paused and turned back toward me. I hesitated, kicking at the ground lightly before speaking.
“I actually brought the handkerchief I borrowed last time,” I said, carefully pulling out the neatly folded handkerchief from the pocket of my dress.
“But I’ll return it to you next time,” I added, feeling like that was the right thing to do.
She is flirting omgggf
🤤☺️🤤☺️😬