almost three years younger than Tyra could be his.
Later that evening, at exactly 8:15 p.m., Byron arrived at the restaurant Cynthia had suggested. Had he thought one might put a public, customer-driven establishment behind a black fence, he would have arrived sooner. The gate was locked, but after noticing a buzzer near the handle and hearing a click as the gate unlocked, he walked through a nice-sized patio area with holiday lights stringed between the trees. Tables were scattered throughout the area, many of them filled.
What in the world?
Inside, the place looked just as interesting. Small, quaint, colorful, and crowded. He’d often heard that if an establishment was busy, you could just about bet that the food was good. Just as the hostess greeted him, he spotted Cynthia smiling broadly from a corner booth.
“How in the world did you find this place?” Byron slid into the empty seat across from her.
“A colleague highly recommended it.”
“Took me awhile to find it and once I got here, realized I’d passed it twice.”
“I almost did the same thing. The place looked closed.”
Byron casually looked around. “It’s different.”
“It’s nice to introduce you to someplace different.”
“Is that why you’re smiling so broadly? Or will you admit it’s because you’re happy to see me.”
“I love Indian food and am excited to try this southern India variety, but I must admit there’s another reason.”
A slow smile spread across Byron’s face. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“I arrived first.”
A scowl chased the smile away. “Seriously? That’s why you searched for the most obscure, out-of-the-way place in all of LA, so you could beat me here?”
“And you’re not happy about it.” Byron’s scowl fueled her laughter. “My friend said the food here is really good! I’m just such a stickler for promptness that it’s rare when I’m not the first to arrive. I wasn’t trying to throw you off.”
“But you don’t feel bad that you did.” A sexy smile started pushing the scowl away.
From the grin on Cynthia’s face, it must have been contagious. “No, I don’t.”
“Glad I could make you happy.”
The waiter brought over menus and glasses of water. Byron picked his up and began to read.
Cynthia picked up hers, too. “Honestly, I’m always the early one. My friends used to tease me because of how much time I’d give myself to get somewhere. You’re the first person I’ve met who has the same idiosyncrasy.”
“Whatever you just said? I don’t have that! My dad taught all of us that it was always better to be early rather than late.”
“Smart dad.”
“Very.” His eyes narrowed as he scanned the menu. “How am I supposed to know what to order?”
She pointed to the column that provided English translations for the Indian dishes. “My friend recommended the Samosas or bondas, potato balls, for appetizers”—she scanned the menu—“and—I’m not even going to attempt the Indian pronunciations—the vegetable curry with basmati rice or the stuffed Indian bread for a main dish.”
They continued perusing the menu. Finally, Byron asked, “Where’s the meat?”
“Oh, that’s the thing. This is a vegetarian restaurant.”
Byron gave her a look. “A meal isn’t complete if it doesn’t have meat!”
“I was assured that the food is amazing and that we would leave full and satisfied. Come on. Aren’t you up for an adventure?”
Byron’s eyes narrowed as his look turned sultry. “Oh, yes. I’m definitely up for an adventure, and it involves tasting things, too. But this no-meat-can’t-pronounce-Indian whatever isn’t exactly what I have in mind.”
11
“Byron, we’ve already discussed this.”
“You gave your opinion, but there was no discussion. Look, I don’t need to tell you what you already know. You’re intelligent, sexy . . . but that’s not why I’m feeling you, and, yes, I’m as attracted to you as I’ve ever been to any
Later that evening, at exactly 8:15 p.m., Byron arrived at the restaurant Cynthia had suggested. Had he thought one might put a public, customer-driven establishment behind a black fence, he would have arrived sooner. The gate was locked, but after noticing a buzzer near the handle and hearing a click as the gate unlocked, he walked through a nice-sized patio area with holiday lights stringed between the trees. Tables were scattered throughout the area, many of them filled.
What in the world?
Inside, the place looked just as interesting. Small, quaint, colorful, and crowded. He’d often heard that if an establishment was busy, you could just about bet that the food was good. Just as the hostess greeted him, he spotted Cynthia smiling broadly from a corner booth.
“How in the world did you find this place?” Byron slid into the empty seat across from her.
“A colleague highly recommended it.”
“Took me awhile to find it and once I got here, realized I’d passed it twice.”
“I almost did the same thing. The place looked closed.”
Byron casually looked around. “It’s different.”
“It’s nice to introduce you to someplace different.”
“Is that why you’re smiling so broadly? Or will you admit it’s because you’re happy to see me.”
“I love Indian food and am excited to try this southern India variety, but I must admit there’s another reason.”
A slow smile spread across Byron’s face. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“I arrived first.”
A scowl chased the smile away. “Seriously? That’s why you searched for the most obscure, out-of-the-way place in all of LA, so you could beat me here?”
“And you’re not happy about it.” Byron’s scowl fueled her laughter. “My friend said the food here is really good! I’m just such a stickler for promptness that it’s rare when I’m not the first to arrive. I wasn’t trying to throw you off.”
“But you don’t feel bad that you did.” A sexy smile started pushing the scowl away.
From the grin on Cynthia’s face, it must have been contagious. “No, I don’t.”
“Glad I could make you happy.”
The waiter brought over menus and glasses of water. Byron picked his up and began to read.
Cynthia picked up hers, too. “Honestly, I’m always the early one. My friends used to tease me because of how much time I’d give myself to get somewhere. You’re the first person I’ve met who has the same idiosyncrasy.”
“Whatever you just said? I don’t have that! My dad taught all of us that it was always better to be early rather than late.”
“Smart dad.”
“Very.” His eyes narrowed as he scanned the menu. “How am I supposed to know what to order?”
She pointed to the column that provided English translations for the Indian dishes. “My friend recommended the Samosas or bondas, potato balls, for appetizers”—she scanned the menu—“and—I’m not even going to attempt the Indian pronunciations—the vegetable curry with basmati rice or the stuffed Indian bread for a main dish.”
They continued perusing the menu. Finally, Byron asked, “Where’s the meat?”
“Oh, that’s the thing. This is a vegetarian restaurant.”
Byron gave her a look. “A meal isn’t complete if it doesn’t have meat!”
“I was assured that the food is amazing and that we would leave full and satisfied. Come on. Aren’t you up for an adventure?”
Byron’s eyes narrowed as his look turned sultry. “Oh, yes. I’m definitely up for an adventure, and it involves tasting things, too. But this no-meat-can’t-pronounce-Indian whatever isn’t exactly what I have in mind.”
11
“Byron, we’ve already discussed this.”
“You gave your opinion, but there was no discussion. Look, I don’t need to tell you what you already know. You’re intelligent, sexy . . . but that’s not why I’m feeling you, and, yes, I’m as attracted to you as I’ve ever been to any
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