Call Me Back Again

CHAPTER 3

At this point, John was ready to just die right there. Sure, it might put a damper on those people's night out, but he couldn't take it. Why was his life so unfair? Not only did that bloke look like he'd just fallen from heaven, he sounded that way too. If John hadn't been half hard by then, the sound of that deep, melodic, dead sexy voice sure helped things along. And that subtle touch just then... It probably meant nothing but it sure sent a jolt of electricity through his veins... amongst other things.

This person was John's dreams personified, so of course, he was straight. What else would he be? Life was bent on making John as miserable as possible anyway, so why stop now? 'Then again', a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'maybe it's his sister or his cousin. He could still be gay' as if there was any chance of that. John found something safer to look at: the smaller rose that lay discarded on the table, withering slowly in the hot August air. The same kind as the one stuck in the girls' hair, only this one was just budding, kind of like the type of thing men would wear on their lapel... Which probably was where it had been, anyway. It certainly would have gone well with the fifties-inspired look the bloke had perfected: yet another thing to arouse John's interest. He truly hoped this one wasn't just a hipster wannabe. It'd be terrible if he was...

"Fine, thank you," John finally managed. "Warm, isn't it?"

If Paul hadn't been feeling hot yet, he would have been by then. Grinning in acknowledgement, he momentarily forgot who he was with and stole another glance. Yep, he was still the most attractive man he'd ever seen. He wasn't a mirage after all, then. Probably straight, though. Paul's gaydar, inasmuch as he had one, didn't go off in any case. Not that he had never been wrong before. But in this case, he reckoned there was no use in even entertaining the thought. If only, he had to remind himself again, because he was currently on a date. With a girl. Not just any girl, either: he'd very much like to end the night with a good shag, seeing as how it had been a while...

"Shall we order?" He flashed her the biggest smile in his arsenal and threw in a wink for good measure. Natalie, who'd seemed a little bemused a second before, blushed a little, which caused a lovely flutter in Paul's stomach. It might not be with the sexy waiter, but as far as he could see, there was going to be some sex in his immediate future.

To his bemusement, though, she didn't open the menu but immediately addressed the waiter instead. "I'll have the vegetarian lasagna," she declared. "And for dessert, I would like Tiramisu."

Paul didn't even know if the place served vegetarian food, but even if it did, he wondered why she didn't at least check to see which dishes were available. Then again, he thought, perhaps she'd been here before, or heard good reviews about that particular dish, or the dessert which seemed a bit... well, unoriginal. It wouldn't be fair to judge the girl on just that, would it? Of course, it wasn't the first hint of annoyance he'd felt that night...

Looking up in time to catch what seemed like a badly concealed eye-roll, Paul suppressed a chuckle and waited for the order to be tapped into the PDA. He'd quickly leafed through the few pages which offered so many different dishes, it made his head spin. He'd seen at least six things that he'd love to try, but he vaguely remembered something he once read and decided to take a different approach.

The instant Giovanni looked at him - Paul clearly noticed the sceptical expression which told him the waiter half expected him to choose such an obvious dish too - he put down the menu and asked, "What are the chef's recommendations?"

It must have taken at least ten seconds for John to realise his mouth was hanging open. Scowling himself for making the worst first impression known to man, he scrambled to dig through his tablet, hoping Ringo had actually selected some specials. He usually didn't, since hardly anyone ever asked. Their clientele wasn't generally that developed. Using the delay to compose himself, John finally managed to find what he was looking for and slipped back into his 'professional waiter, like' mode, rattling off the descriptions which made him rather hungry just reading them.