I had no idea what to expect from the Grand Salon, but I would never have expected this. The entire decor consists of platinum and off-white shades, but it's the proliferation of crystal that makes the interior jaw-dropping. It's everywhere, from the chandeliers to the glasses in which cocktails are served.
"Holy cow," Rika says as we're led to our table. "I heard this place was amazing, but this is just unbelievable."
I pull out her chair for her. "There's so much crystal."
"Of course there is." Rika says as if I shouldn't be surprised at all. "It's the Baccarat Hotel."
And now she sounds like she can't believe I don't know what that's supposed to mean.
"I remember the hotel's name," I say, and I might sound a touch snippy.
Once we've sat down at our table by the windows, she studies me for a moment. "You really don't know about Baccarat, do you?"
"Isn't that a card game?"
"Sure, but it's also the name of a famous French company that makes amazing crystal." She glances around the room, gesturing at the decor. "That's why this place is full of crystal. Baccarat owns the hotel."
"Oh. I see."
Why hadn't I known that? I asked Chance for a restaurant recommendation, and he told me he brought Elena here a week after he proposed to her, to celebrate in style. I hadn't researched the restaurant, but maybe I should have looked at the pictures on their website. Now I've made a fool of myself in front of Rika.
I clasp my hands on the table, trying not to act the way I feel---like I'm doing the exact opposite of impressing my date.
She reaches across the table to lay her hand over mine. "It's okay. I know about this place only because Elena told me. Chance brought her here after they got engaged."
"But I should have, uh, found out more before---Well, I should've known."
"Relax, Dane." She squeezes my hands. "I'm not judging you for your lack of knowledge about this restaurant."
Strangely, I do relax. The warmth and softness of her hands makes my muscles slacken, and the gentle tone of her voice soothes me.
"Let's see what's on the menu," Rika says, picking up hers. She opens the menu and raises her brows. "Oh. I knew this place was expensive, but I really had no idea. Chance must be richer than I realized." She glances up at me. "And you must be too."
"I'm not a millionaire. But yes, Celeste gave me a very generous salary and a signing bonus."
Rika's lips curve into a gentle smile. "Signing bonus, huh? I didn't get one of those. I thought Celeste was going to make you an instant billionaire, anyway."
"That's what she promised, once the brand re-launches. Still not sure I want that."
She considers me for a moment, but then goes back to perusing the menu.
A waiter arrives a few minutes later to take our order. He has a French accent, and I've never been good at understanding that. I stumble through ordering, though I have to ask the waiter to repeat things several times before I'm sure he got my order right. It's humiliating, especially since Rika places her order in French. I studied Italian at university, but I barely remember any of it.
I can't tell if the waiter is flirting with Rika, since I have no idea what they're saying to each other. He does smile at her, and they both laugh about something.
And I develop a sudden urge to tell that French wanker to sod off.
Rika asks me if I mind if she orders caviar as our appetizer. I shrug, and she speaks to the waiter in French again.
He takes our menus. "It's wonderful to see an elegant young couple who are so much in love."
The waiter leaves us.
So much in love? Where did he get that idea? I wonder again what Rika and the waiter discussed.
"You speak French," I announce. "Sorry. I didn't know you speak another language, so I'm surprised, that's all."
"I guess you don't speak anything other than English?"
"No. I've forgotten nearly all the Italian I learned at school."
She leans forward, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "I told the waiter you're my hot British sugar daddy and you're trying to seduce me with a fancy dinner."
I've just taken a sip of water from the intricately carved glass, and I splutter. "What?"
Rika grins. "I'm kidding. I couldn't resist. You're so darn cute when you're flustered."
My mouth gapes, but I can't come up with a response to that. According to Reese's wife, Arden, being called "cute" is a compliment. It means a woman likes you. But Rika can't like me in the way Arden meant. Not when I behave like a cartoon character.
Our appetizer arrives, and while the waiter sets it down on the table, Rika rubs her hands together like she can't wait to devour it. "I've never had caviar before."
"Never?" I tap my fingernail on my crystal water glass. "I have. Caviar is...not my favorite food."
"Why didn't you tell me? We could've ordered something else."
"You seemed excited about trying it."
Her lips curl up at the corners, not quite a smile but definitely an expression of...what? Affection? I can't decide if I want her to feel affectionate toward me.
"You really are adorable," she says. "And such a sweetheart."
"Uh... Thank you."
I watch while Rika samples the caviar. First, her nose wrinkles. Then, as she chews and swallows it, her face lights up. "You know, that's not as gross as I thought it might be. Not my favorite food either, but it's not half bad. My family goes for simpler stuff, like T-bone steaks and twice-baked potatoes."
"That's much better than caviar. Do you get along with your parents?"
"Sure. We get together for the holidays, birthdays, whatever, and we always have a good time." She consumes another mouthful of caviar before she asks me, "What about your parents? Elena and Arden make it sound like the Dixons are the perfect family. I know Chance and Reese, but I've never met your mom and dad."
"We all get on well and rarely argue. Not much to say, really. We're boring."
"You're not boring at all."
I freeze with my glass a millimeter from my lips. She doesn't think I'm boring.
The waiter brings our entrees, and we stick to discussing the food and the decor while we eat. Afterward, I try to pay the bill.
Rika stops me with a hand on my arm. She leans in to whisper in my ear. "I should pay half. This is a fake date, after all. I'll give you my part once we're back at my apartment, so nobody sees us splitting the bill. I mean, I know it's common these days for couples to go dutch, but I figured that might embarrass you."
She cares if I'm embarrassed. She said I'm not boring, I'm cute, and I'm a sweetheart. Maybe I shouldn't read too much into her behavior or her words. If she were attracted to me, she would've told me. Wouldn't she? Or am I meant to take the first step?