Mind of His

8. Night Changes

So it was all like really fancy.

I was grateful I had come straight from work because I was wearing a pretty blue blouse and black belted dress pants. We went to an Italian restaurant in a really nice area. Zayn made a reservation and got an Uber to take us, all himself. I guess I always imagined that his manager or somebody would do all that for him. Or maybe they did and he just decided to do it himself tonight.

The drive was comfortably quiet, Zayn once and a while saying something clever to make us laugh and me once in a while saying something simple and stupid to make us laugh. We got there and I was a little starstruck or something, because I just stood in the lobby while Zayn gave his name to the host, staring at my surroundings. The restaurant was on one of the top floors of the building. The marble floors were so shiny they looked slippery. There were marble columns with fake plants wrapping around them and candles on every dinner table I could see in the distance. The lobby was lit with a large chandelier above us and the lighting in the dining part of the restaurant gave off that vibe of expensive. The servers were all wearing suits and the diners were all dressed perfectly. I felt like I should have been wearing some more jewelry or something.

Zayn tugged my arm and I followed him towards the back of the restaurant to a table in the quiet corner by large windows overlooking the city. "Zayn!" I hissed. "This wasn't what I was expecting when we agreed to have a casual dinner! A little warning would've been nice." He smirked. "Is it okay? Do you like Italian food?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I like incredibly expensive Italian food!" I felt my bare neck and touched my simple diamond earrings and groaned. "I feel underdressed, man!"

Did I just call him 'man'? Shoot.

Was I turning pink? Shoot again. Shoot me. Like now.

Zayn just smiled and pushed the menu that was in front of me further towards me. "You're fine. Relax... man."

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be dismissive and hid myself behind the menu. I could feel his eyes on me and knew he was still smirking. I scanned the menu, realizing how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten anything all day, besides four coffees to keep me functioning. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw the prices of some of these things. I mean, spaghetti and meatballs for twenty two dollars? It better be like premium quality meat in the meatballs.

"I'm ordering a bottle of wine," said Zayn, breaking into my thoughts. "What do you think? Red wine good?"

"Anything is good with me," I said honestly. I didn't have much experience in environments like this. The fanciest place I went out to eat at was a Greek restaurant while I was in Columbia for a date with some guy who's name I don't even remember. Otherwise, I'll order in or get Chipotle if I'm feeling special.

The waiter come to take our order and Zayn got a bottle of wine (I don't know a ton about wine but I knew enough to know that what he ordered was pre-e-tty expensive), and some sort of pasta dish that sounded not quite Italian. I got pasta with olives, artichokes, spinach, chicken, and garlic sauce.

"I love artichokes," I said randomly once the waiter left. "My mom and I both loved artichokes."

Zayn nodded. "May I ask what happened to your mum?" He quickly added, "Of course, you don't have to talk about it, but..."

"No it's fine," I said, and I was being honest. "My mom and dad got divorced when I was about twelve, I think. I went back and forth living with my mom in Maine and my dad in Philadelphia, but then my mom got a boyfriend and moved to freaking Antarctica or something."

Zayn looked surprised. "Antarctica? Really?"

I made a face. "No. She never really told me," I said with a shrug. "But it was overseas. We lost contact soon afterwards."