Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
The tables are set out just how they were in the movie. The host seats us at the table where Daniel De Luca and Julia Alice have their first date after they finally realize they don’t actually hate each other. The only time they can both fit dinner in is after the restaurant closes. He cooks her duck à l’orange, and she says it’s the best sauce she’s ever tasted.
The host presents us with our menus, and when I open it to see duck à l’orange, I realize what’s happening.
He’s done this for me.
I dip my head and lean forward so no one can hear. “Did you hire out this entire restaurant?”
He stares at me for a beat, then says, “Sort of.”
I narrow my eyes. “Sort of? What does that mean?”
“I kind of . . . bought the place. The owner didn’t want to make the changes—you know, to the name and the awnings and the tables—”
My head is spinning. I can’t make sense of what he’s saying. He’s going to need to break it down. “Wait, you bought the place?”
“I thought you’d like it. You know, because of the movie. It’s from the Daniel De Lu—”
“I know the movie. It’s a favorite of mine. Are you telling me the restaurant didn’t actually exist before . . . you bought it?”
“There was a restaurant here. It just wasn’t called The French House, and it didn’t have these tables or”—he nods toward the staff—“the uniforms. And they did some decorating.”
“Who did some decorating?”
“My people.” He shrugs. “I wanted tonight to be . . . I wanted you to have fun. And I know how obsessed you are with all things Daniel De Luca. I thought you’d get a kick out of this.”
I reach for him without thinking, pressing my palm against his cheek. Nothing about tonight’s dinner is about Ben. It’s all about me. He’s just done everything he could to make me happy. “I’m getting a huge kick out of this. The biggest of all kicks.” The corners of his mouth twitch.
Yes, it’s amazing to be at a restaurant just like the one Daniel De Luca and Julia Alice had their first date in, but the biggest kick of all is that Ben would do so much just to make me happy for a single evening.
“So you finally watched a Daniel De Luca movie, huh?”
One of the waiters comes over with the house cocktail—the one from the movie, obviously. He takes our order. We both opt for the duck à l’orange.
“Yeah, I like to prepare for . . . important . . . things.”
I laugh. “I know that about you,” I say, thinking about the questionnaires. “Which movie is your favorite?”
He takes a breath. “I’ve not watched them all. Mr. De Luca has been rather prolific in his career. But . . . I have his complete collection back at the house set up in the screening room. Along with the popcorn you mentioned. I thought you might like the second half of this date to involve a movie.”
“The classic date combo of dinner and a movie.” There’s nothing typical about this dinner. He bought the freaking restaurant and recreated a scene from my favorite movie. When do things like that happen outside of an actual Daniel De Luca film?
“I don’t want you to think that if you come back and watch a movie, we have to—I mean, I don’t expect . . . anything.”
Awkward Ben is adorable. But the joke’s on him, because I’m expecting it all when I go back to his place. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll be ready to skip to the good part and miss the movie entirely.
He must see the desire in my eyes. He slides his leg between mine and takes my hand across the table.
I want to ask him whether it feels different between us, now that he’s not paying me to be here, but I don’t get a chance. Our food arrives and we’re forced to drop our hands.
“I confirmed dinner with the duke and duchess tomorrow,” he says. “I suggested taking them out. They’ve insisted on hosting us at their town house.”
“They’re such great hosts. What should I wear?”
“I’ll send you something.”
“No, there’s no need.” It’s weird. When I was being paid for the weekend, going to Ralph Lauren was a little odd but okay because it felt like Ben was buying me a uniform for a job. But when I’m going to dinner with the guy I’m interested in, it’s more than weird for him to buy me the dress I’m expected to wear. My phone buzzes with a notification, and I pull it out from my jacket pocket. “Sorry, I just want to get it in case it’s my dad.”
“Go ahead,” Ben says.
It’s not my dad. It’s a message from my bank. Normally I’d ignore it, but something makes me swipe up.