He shrugged. “Got home and you weren’t there. Thought I’d come take you to dinner,” he replied.
I fought the urge to grin from ear to ear. It wasn’t like him, or like the old him, to admit he missed me. Or allude to the fact, anyway.
“Why, Salvatore Armstrong, are you asking me on a date?” I asked in mock surprise. I had to fuck with him, just a little bit.
I’d never used his full name before. I thought Salvatore was a beautiful name, the one concession his mother had made regarding half his heritage.
He rolled his eyes. “You wanna eat or what?”
I laughed. “Yes, I’d like to eat.”
“Then get some clothes on,” he gestured at my near nakedness and headed back out to the living room.
“Where are we going?” I hollered. A girl had to know what to wear.
“Vincenti’s,” he hollered back.
Oh my, we were going outout. Vincenti’s was a really nice Italian place. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I mean, I wanted him to take me out, but I still wanted him to be himself, for us to be able to be ourselves. Vincenti’s was kind of stuffy. But I went along with it, letting him take the reins and got dressed.
“Ready,” I told him twenty minutes later.
His eyes skimmed my body and lit with a hunger I found immensely gratifying.
I’d chosen what I liked to call my “little red dress.” It fit me like a glove, hugging every curve of my chest and hips and then fanning out into a tulle skirt. It was short, but not too short, and had a sweetheart neckline. It was flirty and fun and I thought it suited me.
“Why have I never seen that dress?” he demanded, standing from where he’d been sitting on my sofa.
I blushed and shrugged, not wanting to rub it in that he hadn’t taken me anywhere I would have worn it before. He got a knowing look on his face, and I knew he understood the fact anyway, without my saying it. The truth was I didn’t care at all that he hadn’t taken me to nice places. I’d bought this dress for a girls’ night out with Scar. But I certainly didn’t mind the look on his face.
“Ready?” he asked, his eyes doing a sweep of my body once more.
“We could stay in, you know.” I gave him a sly smile not entirely kidding.
“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered.
Not half an hour later, we were seated in a beautiful booth in the posh and all together too quiet, Vincenti’s. Sal continued to shift in his seat. I could tell he was uncomfortable. The server had brought a breadbasket and a wine list, which I was pretending to peruse while shooting looks at my man.
“Sal,” I started, putting the menu down with impatience. “When I said I wanted you to take me out I didn’t mean it had to be this.” I sighed, gesturing to the ambiance around us. “This isn’t you,” I insisted.
His brow wrinkled with confusion. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
I’d never felt more affection for him as I spoke in a gentle voice, “I just want us to go out and have fun together, Sal. That doesn’t mean we have to pretend we’re something we’re not.”
He sighed and looked relieved for a second.
I laughed. “Let’s go to Jupiter. It’s just down the street. We can have our first date in the same spot as the night we first got together,” I said as I grinned. “Seems appropriate,” I mused.
“If that’s what you want,” he replied, eyeing me intently. He was really trying to gauge if this is what I wanted.
I nodded. “I’m in the mood for a whiskey sour, I don’t think they make those here,” I winked.
He laughed, losing all of his earlier tension. “Okay, baby, let’s go.”
We had a blast at Jupiter, sitting up at the bar with Frank serving us drinks just like he used to. When Scarlet and I had waited tables here, Frank had always supplied free drinks on rough nights.
“Better?” I asked as we sat sharing nachos and sipping our drinks.
He reached over and wiped something from the side of my mouth, probably sour cream. “Looked like that doctor took you to some pretty fancy places,” he commented a moment later, staring straight ahead and sipping his beer.