“And you know that I’ve slept with more women than just my ex-girlfriend, right?” he replied.
“Alrighty then. Before this turns into a ‘what’s your number’ discussion, why don’t we go in and eat? I’m starving,” I said quickly.
“That would be awkward for our first date, wouldn’t it?” he asked.
“This whole conversation was a little deep for a first date,” I admitted.
“Well, I did say I was rusty at this,” Luka joked, taking us full circle to the comment that started the whole thing in the first place. “So how about I take you inside and feed you?”
I had been to Oasis Grill once or twice before and enjoyed their food, so it looked like Luka had failed at finding a new food adventure for me tonight. Or at least that’s what I thought as we walked in. It turned out that he had a surprise in store for me.
“Luka!” The hostess welcomed him with a big hug and a flurry of words I didn’t understand as we walked inside.
“Privet,” he greeted her before stepping back and introducing me. “Alexandra, this is Aubrey.”
“Hello,” she said with a slight accent. “What a pretty girl you bring to see us tonight, Luka.”
“Beautiful,” he corrected her. “So don’t embarrass me too much, okay?”
“I do not make any promises,” she answered as she got us settled at a cozy table in the corner. Then she walked away without bringing us any menus or asking what we’d like to drink.
“So I take it you’ve been here before?” I joked.
“A time or two,” Luka teased. “I came in with my roommate shortly after they opened and was surprised to learn that it wasn’t a Mediterranean place but more of an Eastern European restaurant.”
“Really?” I asked. “I think I got the gyros when I was here before.”
“Yeah, there isn’t much demand for Russian and Uzbek specialties in a town this size, so they added a bit of variety to the menu to help bring business in the door. I’m sure the gyros are good, but tonight, you’ll get to experience this place on a whole new level,” he promised.
“A whole new level, huh?” I teased.
“Alexandra will let the owners know I’m here with a date, so I’m sure they’ll pull out all the stops to help me impress you because they’ve been bugging me to bring a girl here for months,” he explained. “They’ve kind of taken me under their wing a little since I come in so often.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that you speak Russian, too,” I pointed out, hoping he’d tell me more about himself.
“Or that I remind them of their son who moved to Boston a few years ago after he graduated from college,” he added. “Just like being here makes me think of being home.”
“How so?” I asked.
“My parents moved to the States before I was born because they wanted their kids to have plenty of opportunities, but they never let go of their culture or traditions. So I grew up eating Russian foods, learning how to speak the language, and listening to the music,” he said before waving his hand around the restaurant. “Being here gives me a little taste of home. I can speak in Russian without people looking at me like I’m crazy because they have no idea what I’m saying. I can watch the music videos they play some nights, although how they manage to get Russian music videos piped in, I have no idea. And I get to eat some amazing food that reminds me of the dishes my mom loves to cook.”
“Like these,” Alexandra said as she brought out a couple of beers and plates with appetizers. “I brought some of your favorites for you and your Aubrey. I thought you’d like to have her taste them, but I can bring whatever you’d like if these don’t work for you.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” I assured her. “It smells delicious.”
She smiled before leaving us with our food.
“Have you ever tried Russian beer before?” Luka asked.
“Nope, and I’ve got to warn you that I’m not a huge beer fan,” I answered.
“You may find this one to be the exception,” Luka said as he pointed at the bottles. “It’s a pale lager that’s kind of similar to Yuengling except they use rice in the brewing process so it removes some of the bitter taste. A lot of my buddies hate it because they’re huge beer fans, but you might like it.”
I took a small sip of the beer, tasting the hops without the bitterness that usually makes me hate beer. “Mmmm. Not bad.”