Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
He shrugged, and let her hand go, because the waiter was there.
He ordered a Bira white ale, she ordered a glass of white wine. Then, since she hadn’t had lunch, he ordered pappadums and onion bhaji while they decided on their entrees.
“Again, I’m okay,” he repeated.
“If you say so,” she murmured to her menu, then set it down. “I want to be more adventurous, but I love it so much, I just can’t. So I’m getting chicken tikka masala, garlic naan and pilau rice.”
He put his menu down. “Paneer biryani.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Are you veggie?”
“Not entirely, but I limit meat. For environmental reasons. Though, as you can tell, I could do better with that since I’m not limiting cheese.”
She smiled.
Yeah, she was gorgeous. Especially like this. Guard down. In her element in a restaurant close to where she grew up. Wearing a fantastic outfit. Color in her cheeks from a brisk walk and residual high emotion.
Being just Elsa.
“Is it always that bad?” he asked.
“No, that rocked high on the Cohen Family Dinner Richter Scale. I shouldn’t be surprised. Oskar feels threatened by anyone who’s more successful than him. He’s been edgier, which makes him act more of a dick, since Elsa’s Exchange started taking off. Adding you to the mix was a step too far. The world’s richest, most handsome, most benevolent guy was sure to set him off. I should have seen it coming.”
“Most handsome?” he teased.
“Like you don’t see yourself in the mirror,” she fired back.
The waiter returned with their drinks, and they ordered.
Elsa sat back with her wine, perfectly comfortable in the cramped, noisy space.
That was attractive too, the city girl in her, where she seemed part of a bustling place, in fact a part of anywhere she was, from the warehouse to her apartment to his penthouse to the suite in Manhattan.
Like she belonged there, no matter how many “theres” there were.
“Have you traveled much?” he asked.
“In summer, when we were kids, we’d go to the Poconos. Sometimes down to Florida. Dad felt the urge and took us on a trip to the old country when I was fourteen. Budapest is an incredibly beautiful city. I had a semester in England during college. I did the requisite spring break thing in Mexico once. And recently, I’ve needed to go to LA quite often, and I’ve gone.”
“And?” he asked.
She wrinkled her nose.
He laughed. “What is it with New Yorkers and LA?”
“You can’t get any more real and in-your-face than New York. You can’t get any more fruity and fake than LA.”
“I resent that remark,” he joked.
She shot him a small smile. “I always think of the water scene in LA Story when I think of LA. New Yorkers would drink water straight from the Hudson just to prove we can. Don’t get me wrong. The weather in LA is great. I love the ocean. Rodeo Drive is fun. Not near as fun as Fifth Avenue, but fun. It’s fascinating. There’s something dreamy about it. I could actually see myself living there for a while, if I knew it wouldn’t be forever. Fruit is good for you, and there’s beauty in make believe, so when I say fake, I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just that the electricity of the city isn’t there. You almost feel compelled to order a margarita, put your feet up and relax. Here, you never relax. You vibe and jive and hustle and hurry.”
“That definitely sounds more you,” he said softly.
“Yes,” she agreed.
Their pappadums arrived, and Hale found he was incredibly hungry too.
They both dove in.
“I take it you prefer LA,” she noted.
He thought about it.
Images of his mother and father and feeling invisible or miserable juxtaposed over memories of Tom and Genny, Chloe, Matt and Sasha.
“I have mixed feelings,” he said.
“Mm?” she prompted
“I like the vibe and the hustle and the hurry. I like that I can get lost, like being in here, with you,” he said, indicating the restaurant with the jerk of his chin. “But there’s something about the sound of the waves on the sand. It’s just…home.”
“I see that.”
“And that would be Genny and Tom’s old home. Mom lived in the hills, close to Pasadena. Dad’s house…” He let that trail. “Home was always Genny and Tom’s place in Malibu.”
“I don’t know LA very well, but that isn’t exactly close to Pasadena, is it?”
“No, but Dad lived close to them. He wasn’t good with being too far away from Genny. She was his touchstone.”
She took a beat before she said, “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“Do I seem uncomfortable to you?”
She didn’t answer, and he sensed it wasn’t because their onion bhaji arrived.
“Do I?” he pressed after the waiter left.
“I don’t know you very well either, Hale. You seem pretty adjusted. It’s kind of annoying.”