Junipers restaurant is a crew favorite thanks to its proximity to set and its bottomless mimosas, and when they’re finally seated, the outdoor patio is packed with clusters of twentysomethings rehashing their Saturday night revels and thirtysomethings with strollers refusing to give up their old way of life. Dev loves the sunny, clamorous crowdedness of it all. The hostess leads them to a tiny table tucked in the corner. As they sit down, their knees brush. Charlie dramatically swings his aside to break the contact.
“Isn’t this place great?”
Charlie reaches carefully for a menu, his face pinched again. Dev cannot understand how such an attractive man can do such unattractive things with his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing. It’s just… I’m gluten-free and vegan,” Charlie says, still frowning down at the single-sided menu.
Charlie Winshaw is everything Dev is trying to avoid by not dating, and Dev’s current state of hunger makes it more difficult to deal with Charlie in general. “This is LA. I’m sure you can find something gluten-free and vegan.”
“Yes, but it’s all French toast and waffles.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
The waiter weaves his way to their table, offers them an indifferent greeting as he flips through pages in his little pad, and then finally looks up, his eyes falling on Charlie. “Oh,” he breathes in surprise. It’s not an I recognize you kind of surprise—he can’t be older than twenty and probably doesn’t subscribe to Wired magazine, nor is he in Ever After’s target demo. No, it’s a holy shit I just looked up and saw the most beautiful human being alive kind of surprise. Dev witnessed this look on the faces of twenty women the first night of filming.
The waiter blushes and blusters, “What can I do to you? I mean, for you? I mean, get you? I mean—”
Charlie is oblivious. He orders a cup of tea, a side of fruit, and two veggie sausages. Dev orders the crab eggs Benedict, a side of bacon, and a side of sourdough toast; he intends to eat all his gluten and animal by-products robustly. He tries not to think about how the women are all probably drinking Bellinis in the hot tub on their day off. Dev should’ve been coaching them.
“So,” he attempts begrudgingly, “tell me about yourself.”
Charlie is studying his fork. “Um… what do you want to know?”
“How about your family? What are your parents like? Siblings?”
“Well, see, it’s… We’re not close,” he stammers. “I mean, I am not close. With the rest of my family. We don’t really—”
“Speak?” Dev tries.
Charlie coughs.
The waiter comes back with the tea and coffee. “Excuse me, but could I please get a new fork? This one is dirty.”
“Oh my God, yes. I’m so sorry. I’ll take care of that immediately.” The waiter comes back thirty seconds later with four different forks for Charlie to choose from.
Dev takes a slow, deep breath and tries to remember he’s supposed to be charming Charlie into going along with the show. Still, his voice comes out irritated. “You know, it’s a customary part of dating to ask questions to get to know each other better.”
“In my limited experience, the women aren’t very interested in getting to know me.”
“Well, maybe not Megan, but the producers will probably rig it so your next Courting Date is with Daphne, and she’ll definitely ask you questions about yourself.”
The group one table over erupts in a loud laughter, and Charlie winces. “I… I don’t want to talk about myself.”
Dev grinds his teeth. “Okay. Then, why don’t you practice asking me a question about myself?”