The doorbell rang, so she grabbed her sweater and purse and opened the door.
Okay, so she was the one knocked on her ass. Bash was wearing a crisp black suit, a white shirt, and a very fashionable tie.
“Did someone die?”
He frowned. “No. Why?”
“Because you’re wearing a suit.”
“I can wear a suit.”
“Yeah. When someone gets married or dies. So nobody died. Are we going to a wedding?”
“You’re funny. Also, you’re a knockout.”
She smiled. “Thank you. But seriously, Bash. A suit?”
He looked down at himself, then back at her. “You don’t like it.”
“I love it. I’m just … surprised.”
“It’s on your list. I thought I’d show you I could be list-appropriate.”
Her lips curved. “You are definitely list-appropriate in that suit.”
He held his arm out for her. “Let’s go, gorgeous.”
She shut the door and slid her hand in his arm. He led her out to his car. “No truck tonight?”
“You don’t want to climb into my truck when you’re wearing a dress, though I’d enjoy the view.”
She slid into the passenger side. “I’m sure you would.”
He took the freeway and headed toward Tulsa.
“You aren’t going to tell me where we’re going?”
He glanced her way for a few seconds. “And ruin the surprise?”
“We’re not going to shoot paintball or do laser tag or anything, are we? Or go to Chuck E. Cheese’s?”
He laughed. “I’d never wear a suit for those activities. And you obviously don’t trust me.”
“Obviously.”
She stared out the window for a while, enjoying the bright colors. They’d gotten a significant amount of rain the past few days and everything was greening up. Weather was warming, people were spending time outside, and school was almost over. Summer was approaching, and it was Chelsea’s favorite time of year.
“How about I promise to never make you wear a dress when we go play laser tag?” Bash asked.
She shifted to face him. “How about you never take me to play laser tag?”
“I can’t make that promise. Laser tag is way too much fun.”
She shook her head. “You’re a child.”
“Life’s too short to be a grown-up all the time, Chelsea. Sometimes you gotta let loose and have some fun.”
“I have plenty of fun.”
“I mean kid fun.”
“I’m too old for kid fun.”
He leveled a serious look on her. “I’m going to take that as a challenge. And you’re never too old for kid fun.”
She was about to argue the point, but he exited the freeway, and she was curious about where they were headed. She’d come into Tulsa frequently to eat. She knew where everything was. Not that she’d eaten at every restaurant, but she knew where all the burger joints and franchise steakhouses were.
So when he bypassed the one she’d guessed he was taking her to, she was surprised, and even more shocked when he pulled into the parking lot housing Bodean Seafood Restaurant.
“I haven’t eaten here in years.”
He turned off the engine and turned to her. “It’s one of my favorite seafood places.”
Hers, too, though she didn’t frequent it. It was pricey, but the food was fantastic.
And also the last place she figured he’d bring her.
He opened her door and held out his hand to help her out of the car. Then he held her hand as they walked inside.
“Reservation for Palmer,” he said.
He’d made reservations, too?
“Right this way, Mr. Palmer,” the hostess said, showing them to their table.
“The last time I ate here, the place was a lot smaller. And across the highway,” she said as they took their seats.
The restaurant had expanded to a new building several years ago. There was a lot more space now. Where before, tables were crowded together and you could overhear conversations on both sides of where you were sitting, this new restaurant was laid out beautifully, with plenty of room for booths and tables and a gorgeous slate fireplace in the eating area. It was modern, yet warm, inviting, and completely luxurious.
She ran her fingertips over the white tablecloth, then looked up and smiled as their waiter approached.
His name was Sean and he presented their menu and wine list. Someone else brought water.
Bash picked up the wine list.
“Do you need me to help you make a selection?” she asked.
He gave her a look over the top of the list that told her he didn’t want or need her assistance. Okay, then.
“Is there a particular wine you prefer?” he asked.
She was interested in what he’d order. “No. Go ahead.”
When the waiter came back, Bash ordered a very nice bottle of pinot grigio.
She was impressed. It was one she’d have ordered for a special occasion.
“Nice call. And I’m surprised.”
“You think it’s because I only know beer and hard liquor. You forget that liquor is my business. All kinds of liquor, including wine.”
“I highly doubt you serve that particular brand of wine at the bar.”
“No, but it’s my job to know what’s good.”
The waiter presented the bottle, opened it, and poured the glass for Bash. He swirled the liquid around the glass, sniffed it, then swallowed and nodded to the waiter, who then poured a glass for Chelsea and filled Bash’s glass.