Chapter 4

Inside the restaurant the lighting was just slightly lowered, creating a comfortable and intimate ambience that partnered with the fancy but not ostentatious decor. The place was nicer than a ‘brand name’ steakhouse for sure but wasn’t trying to be a Michelin star sort of restaurant, which you assumed made it a good first date location, and also aesthetically pleasing for the photographers.

You could feel the eyes on you and April as you walked in and the host met you at the front and immediately escorted you deeper into the dining area. Realistically you knew it had to be because of the photographers - the other clientele of the place didn’t exactly scream ‘nerds who would recognize April’ to you. It was business and salesmen with their wives or girlfriends, a smattering of older wealthy folks, and way at the back what looked like a big wealthy Greek family with about eight kids and eight adults around a table. The problem was that even though you knew it wasn’t you that they were looking at, it still felt like it.

You just felt out of place. In your clothes, in the restaurant. With April on your arm.

The host turned to you as he gestured to a table that was set a little bit away from the others, likely to give better room for the photographers. You stepped forward and swallowed a little before pulling your arm from April’s and sliding out the chair for her.

She smiled again at you, the emotion reaching up to her eyes in a sort of genuine way that made you believe she wasn’t just putting it on, and she sat lightly. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” you managed to say without stammering and shuffled around the table to sit across from her.

Almost as soon as the host left, your waiter appeared and began rattling off the menu for the evening - apparently, it was set and you weren’t getting a choice - though he did suggest wine pairings. As he talked you felt the beating of your heart in your ears drowning out his words, the whump whump whump in time with your nervousness as you tried not to gape at your surroundings, or at April.

“What do you think, Ollie?” April asked you, knocking you out of your head. “Are you a wine guy, or should we go for something else?”

“I- uh- well if you’d like wine then I’m totally OK with that, but I’m not much of a drinker at all really,” you said. “I could do a cider though, that’s refreshing.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect,” April said, turning to the waiter. “I’ll do the same, please.”

The waiter gave a slight frown, just a fraction of a moment at not making out like a bandit since we hadn’t ordered an expensive bottle, but nodded and backed away.

“God, I’m glad you’re not a wine guy,” April said, leaning forward with a little conspiratorial smirk. “I mean, I can drink it, but all I taste is the alcohol. I never get any of the ‘flavours’ that everyone talks about.”

“Same,” you said and chuckled. “I just don’t have a refined enough palette, I guess.”

“Well, we’ll cheers to unrefined palettes then when we’ve got our pleb ciders,” April grinned. “So, Ollie. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

That made you smile a little. “Well, my friend Hannah decided I had to get on the app and she made my profile for me.”

“Looking for something in particular?” April asked.

You, you thought, but didn’t say it. “Just someone who likes me, and who I can give my all to,” you said instead. “I like people, so someone who isn’t afraid to socialize or anything.”

“So Hannah is shy?” April asked,