“Do you have a reservation?” The host’s pleasant-but-aloof attitude fit perfectly with the dim lighting and vineyard-inspired decorations of the Oxbone Tavern.
Jon was caught off-guard, a look of panic crossing his face for just long enough for Karyn to notice and roll her eyes.
“Just a moment.” He looked more closely at Jon, then at Karyn. “A young man in a blue turtleneck, a young lady in a green leather jacket. Are you Jon Gibson?”
“Yes,” Jon replied with a hint of suspicion.
“Someone called in a reservation for you just twenty minutes ago. Table for two, correct?”
Jon blinked. Sarah. It had to be Sarah. She was just arranging everything tonight.
But it placated Karyn, and the host led the teenagers over to a cozy two-person booth.
Jon’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from Sarah:
Order the ceviche appetizer, it’s Karyn’s favorite.
How had Sarah McMillan become Jon’s guardian angel? Another buzz.
Then get whatever you want on the menu. I’m going to check my transactions tomorrow and if you spend less than $100 on this meal, I swear I won’t forgive you.
Jon looked at the menu. It wouldn’t be hard to reach $100, the ceviche appetizer on its own was $35.
“Can I start you out with anything?” the host asked before leaving.
“Ceviche,” Jon said, and Karyn made the same little unguarded motion she had in the car. “For the two of us to split. And also,” he added instinctively, “a basket of garlic knots.”
The host wrote that down, then took their drinks orders, and the two were left alone.
When Jon looked back at Karyn, she had the same stern, examining expression that Sarah had had the night before. And oddly, it made him feel relaxed. In just a day, in just a single day, somehow Sarah had gone from this very expression of suspicion, to giving Jon her car and her credit card for the night. If Jon could win Sarah over, then just maybe he could win Sarah’s best friend over, too.
“What are you smiling at?” the interrogation began.
Jon hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling. But an afternoon talking with Sarah had taught him how to answer: “the prettiest girl in the restaurant.”
Slowly, slowly, over the course of the meal, as Karyn filled herself with ceviche, and then lemongrass salmon with garlic asparagus, and then a chocolate mousse dessert, Jon wore down her defenses. He wasn’t aggressive, he didn’t try to challenge Karyn in any way. He just took her barbs, appreciated them as a part of the verbal game that Sarah had taught him, and sent her back just a little positivity each time.
In the mall, he’d learned to meet Sarah halfway and she’d met Jon halfway. So for Jon, this dinner was his chance to learn the other half, and meet Karyn exactly where she was. She didn’t need to change at all. It was not something she had expected from Jon, nor was she prepared for it.
And, well, Sarah had done a good job on Jon. Despite some lingering swelling, the discoloration in his face had receded, and the turtleneck looked really good on him, and as Karyn looked up from her half-eaten mousse, as she saw Jon take a bite of his strawberry cheesecake, a smile slid onto her lips, despite herself.
She didn’t want to smile. She didn’t want to feel attracted to Jon Gibson, of all people. But she couldnt lie to herself: in that moment, in that dim restaurant lighting, with her aggression sated and her belly full of good food, and Jon’s comfortable attention focused only on her, she was attracted to him.
Jon paid with Sarah’s card, oddly relieved at the $150 total, then added a $30 tip. They got up from the table, and Jon was surprised to find Karyn slipping her hand into his as they walked to the door, a glimmer in her eye that hadn’t been there all evening.
“Let’s go back to my place,” Karyn whispered just before she let go of Jon’s hand to get into the car.
Jon just gave a small nod, and half of a smile.
