He took her hand and led her in.
“Ah, Mr Savoia, this way please,” said the man behind a podium with a list of names and times on it.
The man led them through tables to a table in a private dining room. He sat them down and left them with menus, bowing slightly before leaving.
“How much money are you spending on me?” Beth asked.
“Lots,” he grinned. “What do you want to eat?”
He picked up his menu and began looking it over. Beth did the same, slightly numb from her surroundings. She’d never been in such a fancy restaurant before.
“Robert, I’ve never heard of half of these dishes,” Beth mumbled.
He grinned again. “I’ll order then.”
“I think that would be best.”
He looked over the menu again, seeming to tick things off in his mind. After a few minutes, a waiter came in with a notepad and pen. Beth didn’t listen as Robert rattled off a list of dishes. She did notice, however, that he ordered enough of each thing for the both of them. The waiter nodded when Robert was done and left.
“So, how does it feel to be eighteen?” Robert asked.
She thought for a moment. “Exactly the same. I’m afraid I’ve not had an experience that signifies that I’m eighteen.”
“Yet,” he whispered.
She smiled. “Yet,” she agreed.
“I think we’ll have to rectify that problem as soon as we get home.”
“You’re assuming I’ll be able to move after all this food you’re ordering.”
“Well, we’ll need to do something to burn the calories off,” Robert said with a playful smirk.
“I think there’s something called a gym for that,” Beth pointed out.
“There’s also something called a bedroom.”
Beth grinned and shook her head. “I’m changing the subject,” she said.
“Just as it was getting interesting.”
“Conversations with you are usually interesting,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Touché,” he said.
He picked up a bottle of wine and filled the two glasses set on the table.
“I’m so going to need a way to get you to stop spending lots of money on me,” she said.
“When you work that one out, tell me. Until then, tough, get used to it,” he replied.
The door to the private dining room opened and the waiter came in with two plates. He placed them both in the middle of the table before leaving again without another word.
On one of the plates, there were chicken pieces on cocktail sticks sitting in a marinade. On the other were oysters wrapped in bacon, also speared on cocktail sticks.
“Yum,” Robert said before picking one of the chicken pieces up and eating it.