English Accent (The Accents #1)

Little moment of happiness

We didn't get kicked out.

Yeah, people did stare a little, but the lady who led us to our table didn't even blink. I guess she was just used to weirder shit than a couple of college students dressed up like some crazy circus deserters. Or she just got paid enough to ignore it.

I laughed out loud when I noticed two candles waiting for us on our table. The inside of the restaurant was beautiful, with light colors and Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. Our table stood under one of the huge windows showing the restaurant's little park, now covered thoroughly with snow. I wasn't used to going to places like that, because well, anorexia. I recalled only one time when my parents took me to an elegant restaurant. I was probably around eight or nine and it was on the day of their wedding anniversary. It was just a few weeks before Mom discovered she was pregnant and I was informed I was going to have a baby brother. When Teddy came along, we could no longer visit places like that, since Mom just couldn't seem to bring herself to leave him with a nanny as she went out to have fun. And let's just say my little brother wasn't the quietest kind of a kid.

After he grew up a little and we were positive we could share him with the outside world without getting kicked out, my... problems came along. My treatment took most of my parents' time – and money – so they didn't really have the head to worry about little pleasures like that. That's probably what I hated most about anorexia. It wasn't just about how much it destroyed me. It was about how much it drained my loved ones.

And even though I was doing better right now, a little part of me still hated myself for what I made them come through.

That's why I didn't protest when Dominic made me devour a dinner consisting of three meals and a dessert. It seemed to do something to him – seeing me eat my food like a good girl. He even scooped some of his portion from his plate and placed it on mine when he thought no one was looking.

He also ordered a bottle of wine, which I slurped rather reluctantly. I knew what was going to happen if I washed the amount of food I've consumed down with alcohol. And I really didn't want to ruin the night for him by returning everything I've just eaten the same way it came. This food was way too good to simply throw it right up. Not to mention the waste of money.
Speaking of money...

For the whole evening, I've been occupying myself with wondering about how he was able to afford to take me to a place like that. Dominic didn't let me look into the menu to check the prices, – and still somehow managed to order something I liked, which was another thing that amazed me tonight – but I assumed they weren't small. I mean, hello. We were sitting in the most expensive restaurant in town, after all.

At first, I told myself I could let it go. I kept convincing myself that if a guy offered a girl a date in a nice place, she wasn't supposed to worry about the costs but enjoy the evening. But being the girl who was brought up in a family which wasn't poor by all means, but always kept an eye on money, I had a hard time accepting it. So when I saw the waiter approach our table with yet another portion of food, – which turned out to be a piece of chocolate cake, true to his word – I couldn't bite my tongue for much longer.

"How are we even here?" I fired when the waiter was at a distance safe enough to not be able to hear us.

Dominic lifted his gaze from where he was digging his spoon into his piece of cake and fixed his intense eyes on me.

"What do you mean?" Confusion sparkled in his hazel irises.

I rolled the words around in my mouth, wondering how to put it.

"I mean-" I bit the inside of my cheek, collecting myself long enough to know I wasn't going to come up with something stupid. "I doubt it you are going to let me share the bill, right?"