Indivisible Line by Lorenz Font Page A

reserved table for two. It was obvious the minute they walked in that Greg was a well-liked customer and a regular patron of the restaurant. They were treated like VIPs, and the deference the staff paid to Greg was over-the-top.
    Sarah felt a bit out of her element. Well, make that way out of her element. She should’ve known Greg would choose an expensive and chic restaurant as opposed to what she’d been accustomed to in the past. Burger joints and fast food restaurants were her sole experience with dining out, being the only affordable option. Fine dining was never a possibility in the Jones household. So yeah, this was another first for her.
    “Are you okay?” Greg eyed her, something akin to worry lacing his expression.  
    Sarah had often wondered if this was just an act. He had told her that he wanted to hate her. Now, he offered a tentative smile, and it seemed like he had no idea what to say. That made him more real and down-to-earth, rather than the rich snob she thought him to be. In all honesty, looking at him now in the soft glow of the candlelight, he was handsome in his dark blue blazer and ribbed, white cotton T-shirt, a perfect and very attractive Romeo.  
    It wouldn’t be right to flirt with him, because as attractive as she might find him, they were nothing alike.
    “Yes.” Catching herself fidgeting, she clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap.
    “Would you like something to drink? A bottle of wine, perhaps?”
    Sarah hesitated. She’d been to a few sorority parties during her undergrad years, but they’d always served beer. The most exotic drink she’d had to date was rum and Coke. How funny is that?
    “I . . . haven’t . . . okay, wine is fine,” she stammered and glanced around, feeling self-conscious.
    Greg waved to a server and requested the wine list. When the man reappeared with a thick leather-bound book, Sarah’s eyes widened. All she knew were red, white, and E. & J. Gallo, the latter being a brand she often saw on the shelf of their local grocery store.
    Before Greg opened the bible of wine drinkers, he looked up. “Any preference? Bordeaux? Burgundy?”
    Now he’s talking gibberish. Sarah shook her head. “Anything you want is fine with me.” That would be the safest answer from an ignoramus like her. She bet Lily would get a kick out of this story when she told her friend.
    Greg flipped through the pages, and it appeared that he already knew what he wanted. In the faint light in the room, she caught him smiling while his eyes skimmed the list. “We’ll have the Chateau Lafite Rothschild Cabernet Sauvignon.” He closed the bible and handed it back to their server.
    “Excellent choice, Mr. Andrews,” the server commented, but instead of walking away to fill their order, he cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “I wonder if I may check your companion’s identification, sir.”
    Greg was taking a drink of his water and spluttered at the unexpected question. Sarah busied herself, hiding her embarrassment by rummaging through the little gold clutch she’d decided to use for the evening. Her cheeks were burning by the time she pulled out her identification card.
    “Here you go.” She presented her driver’s license with a smile.
    The man glanced at her picture and back at her. He checked her birth date before returning her card with a grin. “I’m sorry, Miss Jones, but you look quite young. I had to check.”
    After their server left, Sarah replaced her card in her wallet and returned her attention to Greg. He appeared rather uncomfortable. She leaned closer and whispered, “Is everything okay?”
    “Yes.” Greg leaned forward. “Why do you ask?”
    “I don’t know. Did his question bother you?”
    He hesitated. “A bit, I guess. I feel like a cradle robber coming here with a beautiful teenager.”
    She couldn’t help herself from asking, “How old are you?”
    “I’m thirty-five,” he replied in a gruff tone, meeting her inquisition