You're lovely

When we got inside it turned out that the restaurant was a nice, sit-down steak house. Okay, so I'm a fast-food girl myself, and I wasn't really familiar with the place. But it seemed nice, anyway. The lighting was a little dim, and there was a lot of dark wood in the furnishings and a vaguely western vibe to the decor. I could hear the sizzle of grills in the kitchen over the good-natured babble of other people's conversations. The whole place smelled heavenly.

There were actually a few people already waiting on benches in front of the hostess' podium. Hans walked up to the hostess, and since I was still on his arm I went with him. It occurred to me just then that walking around like that made things seem more like a date than work, but I had no idea what to do about it.

Hans greeted the hostess with one of his broad, charming smiles. "Hello," he said. "I have a reservation for two." She took his name, consulted a list that she had on a clipboard at the podium, and then ushered us to a relatively private booth toward the back. It had already been set for two, with two menus and a pitcher of ice water.

I slid in on one side and Hans sat across from me. "Your waitress will be with you shortly," our hostess said.

"That will be fine," Hans replied. "Thank you."

Our hostess departed, and Hans turned to smile at me. I had no idea how to reply to that and I knew I needed to make my next six words count, so I just stared back. Fortunately, we weren't left to ourselves for long.

When our waitress arrived she turned out to be a tall, svelte, buxom woman who looked like she was about the right age to be working her way through college. She had bright red hair that was tied up in a messy bun and a smattering of pale brown freckles across her nose. She also had a bubbly energy and four undone buttons that probably got her excellent tips.

"Hi!" she said as soon as she reached our table. "My name is Sarah, and I'll be your server tonight. Can we start with any drinks for you..." I think there was probably normally more to her spiel, but right about then she really noticed Hans and trailed off. I think she might've forgotten I was there, too. I totally sympathized. Even working a steak house it was probably rare that she saw so much beefcake at one table.

"A cola," I ordered. Sarah gave a start and pulled a notepad and pen out of her apron pockets. I really felt for the girl. If she was already flustered enough to feel the need to write down two drinks she was going to be floored when Hans broke out his accent.

But she did make the effort to look at me as she jotted down my cola, so I tried to give her a reassuring smile. One that said: "It's okay. I completely understand. And I'm only here with him on a work date, so feel free to drool all you want and maybe leave your phone number on a napkin so this doesn't end up being a waste of time for everyone. I certainly won't take offense."

"And a coffee, please," Hans added. "Thank you." I glanced at him, but he was still looking at me. I tried not to squirm.

"Okay," Sarah said. "I'll have those right up, and then take your orders." She scurried off. Hans didn't seem to notice.

I scrambled to make some conversation. "This place seems nice," I said. It was banal and uninteresting, but it was sane so I gave myself points anyway.

Hans grinned. "I'm glad you approve. I haven't been here before, of course, but they had excellent reviews online."

Then Sarah swept back up to our table. She put down a cup with a saucer for Hans, and filled it from a pot she was carrying in her other hand. "I'll be right back with your soda," she told me.

"Okay," I said.

Sarah disappeared again, and when I turned back to Hans he was watching me over the rim of his cup while he took a sip. I don't think he'd looked away from me since sitting down. It was becoming disconcerting. I'd also, by my mental count, exhausted my supply of not-crazy conversation. So I really needed something to keep myself from saying anything stupid.

Sarah reappeared and placed a glass of cola in front of me. Then she fished a straw out of her apron and put that down next to the glass. She was not helping.

"Are you ready to order," Sarah asked, "or would you like a few more minutes?" Okay, so that was a little better.

Hans nodded to me. "When you're ready," he said.

I looked from Sarah to Hans and back. "I'm ready," I said. Have I ever mentioned that I hate making people wait on me?

Sarah turned to me, notepad and pen at the ready. "What can I get for you?"

"Uh... do you have filet mignon?" I asked. She nodded. "That, then."

"And would you like fries or a baked potato with that?"

"Fries," I said. I glanced at Hans. Put me on the spot, would he? Take that! No menu needed. Because you can't really go wrong with steak fries and meat wrapped in bacon.

Hans smiled back at me. "And I'll have your largest cut of steak, medium rare," he said without looking away. "With the potato," he added. He collected my menu, added it to his, and passed them both to Sarah without breaking his gaze from mine.

"Great," Sarah said. "I'll put that order in, and be right back with your appetizers."

"Thank you," Hans and I said almost together. I continued to try and stare him down, but I lost when I turned to Sarah.

"Wait...what? Appetizers?" I asked, but Sarah was already gone. I was a little jealous. She had the kind of figure a person could enjoy watching walk away. I doubted she was ever mistaken for a boy from behind.

"When I made the reservation I put in an order for something to tide us over," Hans explained. "I didn't know what you might want, so it's their sampler platter. I figured that anything in excess could just be boxed up for your refrigerator, and anything you found unappetizing could wind up in mine."

"Oh," I said. I turned back toward him and almost jumped out of my skin. He was still staring at me. "Alright, what?" I demanded. I leaned forward. "What is it? Is there something in my teeth?" I bared them at him, and when he didn't answer immediately I ran my tongue over them to see if I could tell.

"No," Hans protested with a chuckle when he saw I was serious.

I glared. "Then what? Is my makeup smudged?"

Hans shook his head. "You're lovely," he tried to assure me.