“By the way, did you book Gino’s?” Gino’s. The Italian. Nora had gone there as a teenager. She was surprised it was still going.
“What?” “Gino’s? The pizza place? For tonight? You said you kind of know the manager there.”
“My dad used to, yeah.” “So, did you manage to call?” “Yes,” she lied. “But actually, it is fully booked.”
“On a weeknight? Weird. That’s a shame. I love pizza. And pasta. And lasagne. And—”
“Right,” said Nora. “Yes. I get it. I completely get it. I know it was strange. But they had a couple of big bookings.”
Dylan already had his phone out. He was eager. “I’ll try La Cantina. You know. The Mexican. Tons of vegan options. I love a Mexican, don’t you?”
Nora couldn’t think of a legitimate reason for her not to do this, aside from Dylan’s not-entirely-riveting conversation,
and compared to the sandwich she was currently eating and the state of the rest of her fridge, Mexican food sounded promising.
So, Dylan booked them a table. And they carried on talking as dogs barked in the building behind them.
It emerged during the conversation that they were thinking of moving in together.
“We could watch Last Chance Saloon,” he said. She wasn’t really listening. “What’s that?”
He was shy, she realised. Bad with eye contact. Quite endearing. “You know, that Ryan Bailey film you wanted to watch.
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