Serenity (Inevitable #5)(73)

The only slightly tense moment came when their dinner entrees were served, and the waiter placed a plate of beef tenderloin at Sasha's place. She felt a bit sorry for the visibly harried waiter, and attempted to call him over discreetly to point out his error. Matthew, however, was nowhere near as tolerant and impatiently motioned the man over.

"This is the wrong order," he told him bluntly. "The lady is supposed to have a vegetarian entrée."

The waiter shook his head. "I don't think so, sir. I didn't see that on my list. And I don't even think we have a vegetarian option available for tonight."

Ian, who'd closely observed the goings-on, was about to intervene, but Matthew held up a hand to forestall him.

"Then I suggest you ask the chef to prepare one," he told the waiter in a not so pleasant tone. "And quickly. And if your boss gives you a bad time about it, you might want to mention that his boss is in attendance this evening and watching carefully to see how all of this plays out."

Matthew indicated his head in Ian's direction, and it was obvious from the way the waiter's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets that he knew exactly who he was. The waiter nodded wordlessly, plucked up Sasha's plate, and practically jogged into the kitchen.

Matthew pulled back the cuff of his white dress shirt and checked his watch. "Want to make a bet on how long it'll take him to return with the right order?" he asked Ian, chuckling.

Ian grimaced. "If he knows what's good for him, the answer had best be ten minutes or less. I'm sorry about the confusion, Sasha. I will certainly be making a phone call to his supervisor about this."

"Please, that really isn't necessary," she protested. "This certainly isn't the first time I've received the wrong food at a restaurant or an event. I've come to accept over the years that mistakes of that sort will happen. It comes with being a vegetarian."

"Still, being a vegetarian is not that unusual nowadays, and especially in California," argued Matthew. "I guarantee that the chef prepared a vegetarian dish, and that our waiter just screwed up. I should - "

"Forget about it," finished Sasha. "Especially since he's already headed back this way with my food."

The waiter apologized profusely as he set the steaming plate of pasta primavera in front of Sasha, then continued to fuss over her for another minute or two, making sure that everything was to her liking and asking if there was anything else he could do for her. And even though she thanked him profusely, assured him that everything was fine, he still looked anxious as he moved to another table.

Fortunately, there were no other mishaps for the remainder of the evening, and Sasha couldn't recall the last time she'd enjoyed herself so much. Even the dreaded high heels proved to be more comfortable than she'd feared, and remained on her feet the whole night. At some point, a jazz ensemble began to play some soft music, and after the other three couples at their table left for the dance floor, Matthew turned to Sasha hesitantly.




       
         
       
        
"Uh, I'd ask if you'd like to dance, but I guess that's sort of a silly question," he quipped.

She laughed. "You know I love to dance, but I also know that it isn't necessarily your favorite thing. I'm fine with staying here at the table and just listening to the music."

In reply, he rose to his feet and held a hand out to her. "But I'm not. I have too many bad memories of watching Lindsey dance with dozens of other men at these events, and feeling sort of helpless to do anything about it. Or maybe helpless isn't the right word. More like apathetic. I don't want to feel that way about anything or anyone again. You've managed to make me feel ten years younger, and a whole lot happier, and I don't want to miss out on things anymore. So, please. Will you honor me with this dance?"

Sasha's heart felt like it was stuck in her throat as she let him draw her to her feet. "I have never felt more like dancing than I do right now," she whispered.

"Good," he replied, as he guided her out to the dance floor. "Because we're going to dance a lot tonight. Maybe you can teach me a few new moves. Not that I've got any old ones, that is."

Their combined laughter rang out happily as he drew her close against his chest.





Sasha couldn't suppress a yawn as she snuggled into her pillow. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm really tired," she told him regretfully. "It would be different if I didn't have to get up early to teach in the morning. I'm sorry."

Matthew kissed her naked shoulder. "Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for. Especially since we've already had one really spectacular time tonight. I'm just getting greedy, I suppose."