Voyeur Extraordinaire(33)

“It’s beautiful.”

Giovanne cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He handed me the menu, then handed one to Adrian. “Would you like an aperitif?”

“Yes, a Negroni for me and…” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Aperol Spritz?” I offered. It was the only aperitif that came to my mind. I usually drank cocktails with cream or coconut milk and syrup, but they were too sweet for dinner.

“Wonderful,” Giovanne said. “Would you like a bottle of water?”

“San Pelegrino.”

“Very well.” Giovanne handed the winelist to Adrian. “Enjoy your evening.” Then he turned around with another wink in my direction and headed into the restaurant. My eyes drifted over the beautiful oranges and lemons dotting the trees around us. Adrian asked me a question that I didn't hear. I looked up at him, feeling myself blush. “What did you say?”

“Would you like some wine?” He looked at me as if he knew exactly how nervous he was making me feel. I swallowed and nodded my head. Wine would hopefully manage to calm my nerves and help me relax.

“Is it okay for you that we don’t sit at your usual table?” I gestured at the rustic tables. “This isn’t quite as upscale as the inside.”

“I want you to enjoy yourself. That’s all that matters.” He smirked. “And sometimes it’s good to try new things, don’t you think?”

I made a non-committal noise and turned my attention to the menu. It wasn’t very long but it had several vegetarian options. A waiter carrying a slate with wooden feet headed our way and set the slate down. “Our daily specials. Your drinks will be here in a moment.”

I quickly scanned the slate. The lasagna with chanterelles caught my eye, but I decided to ask Adrian. After all, he ate here all the time.

“What would you recommend?” I asked.

“Well, the burrata with grilled peaches and heirloom tomatoes is delicious. As for the entree, I’d recommend the homemade tagliatelle with truffles. It’s amazing.” Adrian lifted his gaze from the menu.

“Burrata?” I repeated. I didn’t have the slightest clue what that was.

“It’s a kind of mozzarella with cream inside. It practically melts on your tongue.” The way he said tongue and looked at me, food was the last thing on my mind, and I felt myself flush. From the look on his face, it was clear that it’s what he’d intended. Amy had been right. He knew what to say and do to charm his way into women’s panties.

I was glad that the waiter chose that moment to bring our drinks. “Are you ready to order?”

“Give us another moment,” Adrian said, never taking his eyes off me. The moment the waiter was gone, I picked up my Aperol Spritz and took a few gulps. Adrian, too, sipped at his drink, a red liquid in a martini glass.

I set my drink down. Half of it was already gone. If I kept up the tempo, I’d be drunk before the entrée was served. “So what are you going to order?”

Adrian smirked as if he knew I was rambling because I was nervous. “I'll take the Vitello Tonato for starters, then the Ossobuco alla Milanese.” He leaned forward, his muscled arms resting on the table. His gaze was intense, but I couldn’t look away. “As for the dessert. I haven't quite decided yet.” His voice was husky, and I knew exactly what he wanted to have for dessert.

I took another gulp of my cocktail. “The molten lava cake looks delicious,” I said, misunderstanding him on purpose.

“Delicious indeed,” he said, then he scanned the winelist calmly, as if he hadn’t just come on to me. “Do you prefer white or red wine?”

“White,” I said automatically, though I wasn’t much of a wine drinker. I didn’t usually frequent restaurants that served wine. Most of the time a Happy Meal was the only thing I could afford.

The waiter returned to our table and Adrian gave a small nod in my direction. “I’d like the burrata and tagliatelle with truffles.”

I could tell it pleased Adrian that I’d followed his recommendation. “I’ll have the Vitello Tonnato, followed by the Ossobucco. And we’ll share a bottle of Pinot Grigio,” he said to the waiter who scribbled our orders on a small notebook and then disappeared into the restaurant.

“Why did you want to have dinner with me?” The words left me mouth before I could stop them, but it was a question that’s been bothering me since he’d first asked me to go out with him.

I fiddled with the cloth napkin, occasionally risking a peek at Adrian. He leaned back in his chair. “You fascinate me.”

I frowned. “Why? You don’t know anything about me.”