Dinner for One by Meg Harding Page B

last group of customers. He rolls his head, sighing as his neck cracks. “Maybe we should hire on-call servers,” he says to Jean, looking at a slumped Henry. He likes having a small, personal staff, but clearly they need to be able to find backup for when a staff member can’t make it in.
    They go to collect their things and head out, and Bastien shakes Henry’s shoulder, waking him from his nap. “Go home,” he says gently.
    Henry blinks sleepily up at him, and then his eyes widen. “I’ve got something for you,” he says, patting down his pockets. “I meant to give it to you earlier, but I didn’t have the time, and you were so busy, and God, I’m sorry, I know how mopey you were earlier.”
    Bastien blinks at the barrage of words and looks down in confusion at the paper Henry presses into his hand.
    “The guy from yesterday dropped that by.”
    Jean claps him on the shoulder before he can properly process that. “Aw, look at that,” he crows. “It worked out.”
    His fingers shake when he unfolds the paper to find a hastily scrawled message:
    Sorry, forgot to give you this.
    Dinner at mine tomorrow night to make up for it?
    A normal person would probably wait till they were home to put the number in their phone and text a response. They wouldn’t want to appear too eager. But Bastien doesn’t know how long James has been waiting for a reply. What if he’s been feeling as moody as Bastien? The polite thing to do is end any worry he might be feeling.
    It takes him three tries to enter the number correctly, his stupid thumb hitting the seven instead of the eight multiple times. He fires off a quick yes before he realizes that he should have started with saying it was him. Jean’s laughing, reading over his shoulder, as Bastien types out This is Bastien and hits Send.
    He’s only got one foot out the door when he feels his phone vibrate, and he glances down to see James has replied. He’s sent him an address and It’s a date ;) .
    He smiles the whole way home, and he doesn’t even care that Jean teases him mercilessly for the half of it he walks with him.

Chapter Six
     
     
    CHANGING AT work was the easiest thing to do in terms of getting to James’s at the earliest time, but he should have known his staff wouldn’t let it go uncommented. They whistle and clap as he appears, wearing a pristine gray button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and hip- hugging black slacks.
    “Someone goes all out,” laughs Renee. “Man, you clean up nice.”
    Bastien pulls a face at her. He’s never not looked “cleaned up.” That doesn’t stop him from smoothing his hands nervously down his thighs and asking, “It’s not too much?” It’s just dinner at James’s house. They’re not going out somewhere fancy. The whole thing is very casual. His outfit not so much. He’d had jeans laid out on the bed and a royal blue sweater, but they hadn’t felt right.
    “You look fantastic,” Renee assures him, and the rest of the staff supports her.
    As he exits the kitchen, heading out for the night, they all singsong, “Someone’s getting laid tonight.” If he had to guess, he’d say Jean had them planning that since they’d come in. He’s immensely relieved he opted not to have seating near the kitchen.
    He’s nervous on his way over and has to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from picking at his nails. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. Things are good between them. Really good .
    James lives on the fourth floor of a snazzy apartment complex, and Bastien pauses, staring up at it. Apparently James is a very successful writer. There’s a doorman, who asks for his name, and when he gives it, the stately older gentlemen directs him to the third elevator on the left. There aren’t any numbers to press, just an up or a down arrow. Bastien tries not to be impressed that James has his own elevator. If Bastien wanted to live in an apartment like this, he could. Somehow that doesn’t make it any