Her eyes lift. “Can I?”
The question ain’t playful.
Not really.
“Yeah,” I say. “You can.”
She swallows.
Then, very softly, “Thank you.”
The room shifts around us. Or maybe I do.
One of the waitresses, Massie struts over, and Amelia only orders fries. I order the special, which will be the only dinner they're offering tonight, figuring maybe I can get her to eat more.
“I’ve caught you looking too, you know,” I say, catching her off guard as she devours her fries.
“Oh,” she answers with her mouth full.
“Catching print. Think that’s what the young folks call it these days.”
She turns five shades of red before she about chokes on her food.
“Have not,” she answers once she can. “I haven’t been looking there.”
“Where?” I ask.
She gives me a look.
“Must like my belt buckle then.”
“There’s a naked woman on it,” she whispers.
I laugh. “Can hardly tell unless you look real hard,” I tease her.
She kicks me under the table.
“It was one of Mikes, you know,” I say. “Legend didn’t want it. Said it was indecent, though he has all the rest. You can have it if you want.”
“No, thanks.”
She sets the glass down and reaches for a fry like it might save her. August is safe with Sophie and whatever dinosaur nonsense he has decided is law today. That should make Amelia relax some. It doesn’t. She sits across from me in the booth like she is braced for the whole damn building to turn on her.
I push the fries closer. “Eat. You look nervous.”
“I am nervous.”
“Good. Means you ain’t stupid.”
“That’s comforting in the worst possible way.”
“Basic facts then,” I say. “If we’re fake dating, you need to know things.”
“Fine.” She picks up a fry. “Favorite color?”
“Black.”
“Predictable.”