And just like that, the anxiety and tension that was knocking me in the chest with every breath I took is quickly wiped away. That’s right, I have a date tomorrow, a very real date. With a guy who, by all standards, is quite a looker. Lottie sent me a picture of him the other day.
Blond hair, has that whole . . . “I own a boat” look. Which I’m sure he does, given how he’s in the same realm of business as Dave and the Cane brothers. Graduated from Yale and has a golden retriever named Freddie. Doesn’t get better than that, right?
“You’re smiling like a mad woman now. Should I be worried?” JP asks, snapping my attention back to the present.
“No, not at all. Just excited about our evening out, of course.”
“Okay, you sure? Because I feel like you’ve run through a gauntlet of emotions in the last five minutes.”
“Positive. There will be no more erratic emotions from here on out.”
“Why do you have tears in your eyes?” JP asks when we step up to the restaurant.
I turn toward him and ask, “How do you know about this restaurant?”
“Uh, you and Lottie talked about it in the elevator. Said how your mom took you here. Are you . . . not cool with that? We can go somewhere else. I’ve never tried this place, but I knew dim sum was a must in San Francisco, so I thought you’d want to go here.”
My lip quivers.
A tear slides down my cheek.
And I’m left speechless as we stare at each other, on the sidewalk, outside of the Dim Sum Star.
“Kelsey . . .”
“I’m sorry.” I wipe at my tears. “This was very thoughtful, JP. I didn’t think you were paying attention to that conversation.”
“I pay attention a lot more than you think,” he says before taking my hand in his, giving it a squeeze, and walking us to the door. Before he opens it, though, he quietly says, “If you need another moment, let me know.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good.” I smile. He takes that as the green light, opens the door for me, and leads me into the restaurant.
And, oh my gosh, it looks exactly the same.
Plain beige walls, dingy blue carpet, and flimsy partitions that separate tables and rooms. It’s absolutely perfect. Just as I remembered it.
The worldly smell of some of the best food I’ve ever had assaults me with memories.
I turn to JP and say, “It hasn’t changed one bit, which makes me wonder . . .” I turn toward their wall of pictures and walk up to it. My eyes scan the many faces until they land on two very familiar expressions. My eyes well up all over again and I quickly take my phone out of my purse. I’m about to take a picture when JP plucks my phone from my hands.
I turn to protest, but JP nods at the picture and says, “Point at it. I’ll take your picture with it.”
I do just that. Then I take a few pictures, including one of just the picture to have it, and then send them to Lottie, while JP examines the two innocent girls with full bellies in the frame.
“Nice braces.”
I chuckle. “Thank you.”
“And that Minnie Mouse shirt . . . wow. You know, I might have asked you to hold my hand if I knew you back then.”
“You think Young JP and Young Kelsey could’ve been more than short-term companions?”
He pauses to think about it and then shakes his head. “Nah, I was too much of a dick, always causing trouble. With those braces and that shirt, you’d have seemed far too innocent for me.”
“Hey, what did I tell you about my innocence? Do I need to prove you otherwise again?”
“Please, prove that again. Wouldn’t mind sneaking another taste of you,” he says, before pulling me toward the hostess.
I don’t have time to respond to his blatant flirting—that’s flirting, right?—because we’re ushered through the restaurant until we’re shown to a seat by a window that gives us a great view of the bustling Chinatown.
Before I can reach for my chair, JP pulls it out for me and then takes a seat across from me. When I glance in his direction, he just gives me a shrug and picks up his menu, placing it in front of his face.
Don’t overthink it, Kelsey. Just have fun.
My phone buzzes and I say, “I bet that’s Lottie texting back, can I look at it?”
“You don’t need my permission. Have at it. Hey, do you know if this tea is any good?”
“Uh . . . I don’t think I’ve had it before,” I say and then pick up my phone and read the text message.