Free SHOOT: A Novel by Megan West, Kristen Flowers Page B

I felt my cheeks grow hot, but I murmured a timid, “thank
you. You look…” I swallowed hard, “great also.” I clenched my eyes shut and
cursed myself inside my head. For some reason spitting out a simple compliment
felt like a grueling exercise.

 
    He chuckled, “Are
you really that nervous around me?” All I could do was give a playful laugh and
shake my head before he placed his hand in the small of my back and led me
inside the restaurant. “We have reservations,” he told me when he noticed I was
looking at the crowds of people waiting to be seated.

 
    We were
immediately taken to a table for two in the back corner of the restaurant,
which seemed to resemble a large corridor to me. There was a row of tables
placed somewhat close together lining the back wall, a long table down the
center, and bar seating around what appeared to be the kitchen area on the
other side. The place was loud and busy, but I could still see it was clean,
neat, and tastefully decorated in its simplicity.

 
    The walls were a
light color with some tile placed here and there for decoration. The tables
were a smooth and deep wood color with dark cushioned dining chairs to match. It
was dimly lit which added a cool, nightlife atmosphere to the place. I wondered
if this was a common thing in New York City restaurants. There were exposed
vents on the high ceiling and long, steel strings hung down bearing bare bulbs
shaped like tear-drops. Somehow the place managed to look high-end with a
slight industrial feel. The restaurant made me think of Brad’s style, both in
how he dressed and how he handled himself.

 
    In many ways he
was high-end and sophisticated, yet rugged with an edge to him. He was a bundle
of mysteries I planned on unpacking.

 
    “Are you adventurous?”
he asked.

 
    “Well, I am here,” I responded with a teasing
smile. It came off like I was being cheeky about being out on a date with him,
but I had really meant it about my big move to the city. Either way, it
surprised him and earned me a genuine chuckle from deep in his throat.

 
    “Alright, then,
you’ll get special treatment tonight,” he said with an exaggerated wink. The
server came around, as if on cue, and Brad ordered a bit of everything off the
menu along with sparkling water with ice for the two of us. My eyes trailed
across his sharp chaw line as he pointed on the menu. He spoke with such
confidence, I could practically feel his smooth voice reach across the table
and envelope around me.

 
      When he turned to look at me, he grinned wider
than I had ever seen. “You deserve to try it all.” I looked around and saw a
lot of food I was completely unfamiliar with. I noticed a blackboard at the top
of the kitchen that listed various specialties of the house, but I didn’t recognize
any of the names of the dishes. Growing up in Iowa, I had always been a simple
meat and potatoes kind of girl.

 
    I had wanted a
taste of the world for as long as I could remember and it was finally about to
happen.

 
    “It’s called Patatas Bravas ,” Brad informed me as the
server brought out the first dish. He handed me a small plate and told me not
to question what it was and to keep an open mind. “Any allergies?” he asked. I
shook my head. “How do you feel about spicy food?” I shrugged.

 
    As soon as I took
the first bite, I felt like my mouth was on fire and I went straight for the
sparkling water. Brad, meanwhile, was in a fit of laughter. Once the burning in
my mouth had calmed down I stared at him. “I’m glad you take such pleasure in
my pain,” I barked at him jokingly.

 
    He made a
suggestive face and leaned forward, “Only if you’re into it.”

 
    I felt my heart start
to race because I couldn’t, for the life of me, make out if he was being
serious or not. Then he started laughing before taking a sip of his water. “So
no more Patatas for you?”

 
    “I’m afraid not,” I
chuckled as I took another sip