She didn't ask for permission. She simply pulled out the chair that Sarah had abandoned and sat down. "Do I know you?" Caleb asked entirely bewildered. "No," she said.
She signaled the waiter with a barely perceptible lift of two fingers. The waiter, who had been sneering at Caleb a moment ago, practically sprinted to the table. "Malen, neat, and whatever he's adding," she said, nodding at Caleb. "I'm just having water and leaving," Caleb said. "You're having a drink," she corrected calmly.
"Because you look like a man who just calculated the exact financial cost of a wasted evening, and you need a minute to decompress before you go home to whatever responsibilities you're paying someone else to handle. Caleb went rigid. His defensive instincts, honed by years of scraping by and protecting his daughter, flared up instantly. "I've been watching you from the corner booth," she said. She folded her hands on the table.
No rings. A watch that caught the dim light in a way that screamed custom Swiss craftsmanship. You checked your watch 12 times. You checked your phone seven times. You did the math on the menu, realized you couldn't afford the steak, settled on the chicken, and then looked relieved when your date didn't show up because now you only have to pay for sparkling water.
"Are you always this invasive, or is tonight a special occasion?" Caleb shot back, his voice dropping an octave. The woman smiled. It was a thin, genuine smile. "I'm Caroline, and I'm invasive because I pay people millions of dollars to tell me the truth, and they still lie to me.
So when I see a raw, unvarnished piece of reality playing out in a restaurant full of sycophants, I tend to gravitate toward it. The waiter arrived with two glasses of amber liquid. He placed them down with trembling reverence and vanished. Drink. Caroline said, "I'm buying.
Consider it a refund for your babysitter." Caleb stared at her. He looked at the scotch. He was angry. He was embarrassed.
But mostly he was just incredibly tired. He picked up the glass and took a slow sip. The liquor burned perfectly all the way down, leaving a trail of warm smoke in his chest. "How did you know about the babysitter?" Caleb asked quietly.
"Because a man in a cheap but well-ironed suit who counts his minutes is a father," Caroline said. "A single father. Married men complain when they're stood up. Single fathers calculate." Caleb set the glass down.
"Okay, Caroline, you're very observant. You're very rich. You've had your fun analyzing the poor guy in the booth. Can I go now? Caroline leaned forward.
The ambient noise of the restaurant seemed to fade, pushed back by the sheer force of her focus. I didn't sit down to mock you, she said, her voice dropping to a low, quiet hum. I sat down because I have spent the last 3 hours across the room listening to a private equity firm try to romance me out of 30% of my company. They smiled. They flattered.
They bored me to tears. She tilted her head, studying his calloused hands resting on the white tablecloth. "You are clearly available," Caroline said. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. "Would you date me?"