Writer's note: There are a few instances of
Italics
in this piece, some for word emphasis, some to delineate internal monologue.
It was a Saturday night, almost 8pm. Tom sat in the booth nervously surveying the restaurant around him. He couldn't help but feel out of his element, it was a very upmarket place and certainly not somewhere he would have picked. It was like something you'd see in a gangster movie with its dimly illuminated chandeliers and burgundy carpet, the long tablecloths draping elegantly off the dark stained tables almost to the floor. Tom had tangled himself up in one of these tablecloths when he took his seat and wondered not for the first time that night if he made the right decision coming here. The place even had a maître d', for goodness sake! What kind of restaurant actually has a maître d' these days? This was definitely a mistake.
A bowtie clad waiter appeared and produced a wine list. Tom saw the prices on some and mused that he might have to take out a personal loan just to pay at the end of the night. He sighed, picked a glass relatively cheaper than the others and resigned himself to his fate.
He watched the people walking about the room from his spot in the corner, it was mostly waiters taking orders, delivering food, and escorting newcomers to their tables. It was this last action which was giving him the most anxiety, because he was expecting company. A couple to be precise, which was new for Tom, one he met on a dating app. They seemed nice enough when he was talking to them, and one night while he was tipsy, he flirted and played with them. Living out stories and fantasies over text, things he wouldn't normally say or do, the thought of which made Tom orgasm harder than he ever had before. And afterwards they somehow convinced him to meet up for dinner.
The problem was they were nearly twenty-five minutes late, and he was on his second glass of wine. With every passing second his nervousness grew more and more agonising. Tom wondered at himself; he didn't do things like this! He doesn't go on dates with strangers, or use love-finding apps. And he certainly didn't date couples! This was all a big mistake.
Finally, he made the decision to drain his glass and stood to leave when the waiter appeared with a man and a woman in their early-thirties, directing them to sit at the table. She was thin, but shapely, and very beautiful in the face. She wore her wavy brown hair out, which cascaded softly over her shoulders. She was magnificently feminine. But the first thing Tom noticed was her eyes. They were a beautiful deep dark blue which seemed to see straight into him, and they stopped him dead in his tracks. It took effort to pull his gaze from hers in order to appraise her companion.
Her husband was the epitome of masculinity. Tall and handsome, with dark hair, an athletic build, and he had smile lines etched softly into his face. Tom noted that his dark grey suit likely cost more than he made in a month. It was definitely nicer than the cheap black jacket he was wearing. He felt, again, out of place. Nevertheless, they both beamed at him, and the woman shuffled around the booth to embrace him.
"Tom, hello! We're so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Anna, of course, and this is Steven."
"Oh, no problem at all, good to meet you." Blurted Tom, accepting Anna's hug and awkwardly shaking Steven's hand before sinking back into his seat. Anna took a seat next to Tom in the booth, with Steven to her right.
"I see you've already started drinking without us!" said Steven, "We'll have to catch up."
What followed was a long discussion with the waiter about wine Tom didn't much understand, and after a few taste tests two new bottles of expensive wine were on their way to the table.
"It's so good to finally meet you in person, you seemed so nice over text and we just couldn't wait to have you for dinner, really get to know you!" Anna smiled in a way which made Tom feel warm and at ease, if just for a moment.
"Well thanks for inviting me. You look lovely, by the way!" Tom replied more out of politeness than anything, but now he actually took note for the first time of what she was wearing. She really did look lovely! It was a modest black cocktail dress, or about as modest as a cocktail dress could be. It fit close to her waist and showed off her form in a way that drew the eye, but still left something to the imagination.
Tom found himself imagining plenty and realised his eyes had settled for a while now on Anna's breasts. With a start he glanced at Steven and then down at the table, wondering what on earth he was doing and how the other man would react to him gawking at his wife.
Steven and Anna both laughed, not a cruel mocking laugh, but more a flattered chuckle.
"I'm glad you find Anna as beautiful as I do, Tom. I'm very proud to have her." Steven lightly rubbed her arm, and she giggled and leaned in to give him a light peck on the lips.
"Anyway, you must be hungry," Steven said, I know I am."
With a gesture, Steven summoned the waiter and some menus. Tom opened his and swallowed an exclamation at the price of the first dish he saw. And it was only an entrée.
"Apparently you can get the best eye-fillet steak in the city here, Tom." Steven said as he looked over the menu, "But I recommend the fish if you want something a bit lighter. I don't eat much meat."
"Only on special occasions." Anna added, in a playful tone. Tom didn't notice, he was frantically studying the menu for something cheaper than a $55 steak. Finally he had to admit defeat.
"I, uh. . . I'm so sorry but I don't think I can afford to eat here." he said, feeling quite miserable.
"Oh sweetie, no! This is our treat to you!" exclaimed Anna, "You don't have to pay a cent, in fact we insist on it. We've invited you here with us so we are going to buy dinner for you." She flashed another one of her gorgeous smiles, causing Tom's insides to melt once more.
"Oh! Well, okay. Thank you!" said Tom, with a sheepish grin.
"Wonderful!" said Steven, "So something small to start?"
***
Two hours later the three sat talking happily over their empty plates, and two empty bottles of wine. Tom was somewhat more relaxed now with the slight haze of a few good drinks. Anna burst out laughing at a joke, and settled a hand on Tom's leg. High on Tom's leg. Suddenly the pit in his stomach returned as reality set back in. A nervousness which apparently wasn't lost on Anna.
