“What does the R stand for?” Henry asked as we crossed the last street to the little sandwich shop.
“The R?” I asked, confused.
“Aria R?” He repeated. “That who you told me to ask for.”
“Oh, right.” I nodded, remembering that I had told him to ask for me at the security desk that way. “It’s Ritter. Aria Ritter.”
“Aria Ritter,” Henry repeated. The way his accent curled around my name made my belly heat. There was warmth and sexuality to it that I’d never heard before. When he said my name, it sounded exotic and beautiful.
“And what’s yours?” I asked him. “You never did give it to me.”
“Henry Prescott,” he replied, ducking his head politely. It was a good name, even if it didn’t seem to suit him.
“Well, Henry Prescott, it’s very nice to meet you,” I told him.
He chuckled and opened the door to the grilled cheese shop, holding it open for me like a gentleman. Again I was struck by his politeness. It had been a while since anyone had held a door open for me on a date.
The restaurant was small, but smelled amazing. The aroma of thick, crunchy bread, melty cheese, and all sorts of meats filled the space. The sandwiches were all made to order along a tall counter, and tables and chairs were tucked into every available corner. There was some patio seating too, now that it was finally getting warmer.
Luckily, we beat the lunch rush. Given the close proximity to the White House, this place was usually packed with tourists and assistants grabbing lunch for their politician bosses. Today was our lucky day. There were only a few people in line ahead of us, giving Henry enough time to look over the menu.
“I’ll have the Young American with roasted red peppers added,” I told the clerk when it was our turn to order.
“The Classic for me,” Henry said politely. “And an order of loaded tots to share.”
The clerk nodded and took Henry’s card before I had a chance to even get my wallet out.
“You don’t have to pay,” I told him as the clerk returned his card. He smiled at me as he pocketed it.
“I said I was buying you lunch,” he replied, his eyes bright. “I did knock you over, remember?”
I thought about the grass stains on my slacks yesterday. They’d come out easily enough, but I wasn’t going to complain about him buying me lunch. “Alright, then.”
We walked along the counter, following the progress of our sandwiches. His hand went to the small of my back as we shuffled along. All my attention went to the way his fingertips hovered on the silk of my shirt. It was all I could think about. I wanted him to touch me more.
I glanced over at him from the corner of my eye. He was busy watching his sandwich being made. He frowned slightly, watching as they put it on the grill. His brows came together as he studied how they made a grilled cheese sandwich.
It was adorable.
Don’t get attached, I warned myself. He’s just here on business. He's going to have to leave eventually.
But I didn’t really care. I didn’t want to miss my chance with him simply because I had been too afraid to give something a chance. I liked him. He said he was going to be here a month, maybe more. Even though the idea of losing yet another person in my life terrified me, I wasn’t about to shut myself away in my office.
The only way to find my way in the world was to take chances. Henry was a risk I was willing to take.
“Do you want to eat outside?” Henry asked as we waited. “It’s warm today, but we can eat inside if it’s too cold.”
“Outside is wonderful. It’s been so warm. It feels like a shame not to enjoy the nice weather.”
He nodded and picked up the tray with our sandwiches and deftly carried it out to the patio. We sat under an umbrella, but still in the sunshine. The slight breeze was just cool enough I was glad I wore long sleeves. Summer was on its way, but not here yet.
He balanced the tray on one hand and carefully settled the plates on the table.
“You must have done this before,” I teased him as he settled into his chair. He frowned slightly and I pointed to the plates. “The plates. Were you a waiter?”
He chuckled. “No, just lots of watching others. And natural grace, of course.”