“Hi, Deedee,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re holding a table for me.”
Was he trying to play big man? The place was empty, most of the dinner patrons not having arrived. B. Smith’s had just reopened after closing at four to prepare for the evening rush.
While a hostess showed them to their table, I waited patiently at her station, making a note of where they sat.
I was led to a table that was a few places down from where the couple sat perusing their menus and sank down gratefully into my seat. I’d bought a pretzel earlier in the afternoon, but I was starved. The ache in my ass was no longer there, and I found I missed the reminder of what Theo had done to me.
My waiter approached with a huge smile, eying my sweatshirt. “You go to Georgetown, dude? How cool is that? I’m taking cognitive science there! Maybe…uh…maybe later we could get together to talk about classes? I get off at midnight.”