“So we’re here tonight to do what, exactly?”
“I’m showing you how a normal date with a woman goes.”
He laughed. “Seriously? You think I don’t know how to treat a woman?”
“At the moment I have my doubts.” She leaned in and showed him the wine list. “I’d suggest the sauvignon blanc or the cabernet. They have some lovely brands here. If you’d like, I’d be happy to talk about them with you.”
He pulled the wine list from her and set it on the other side of the table. “I can’t believe you brought me out here tonight to teach me how to take a girl on a date.”
“Woman. Anyone over the age of eighteen is a woman, not a girl.”
“Whatever.”
“See, the fact that you can’t discern the difference indicates your need for coaching.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “This has nothing to do with my image.”
“I disagree. The way you treat women has everything to do with your image.”
The waiter came over. “Good evening. I’m Richard and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Have you had a chance to peruse the wine list?”
Cole handed the wine list back to Savannah. “I’ll have Patron Silver, straight up. Make it a double. The lady would like to choose her own wine.”
The waiter nodded, obviously too polite to indicate whether Cole had made some fatal social mistake by ordering his own drink and deferring to Savannah to order wine.
“I’ll have the Beaulieu Vineyards Private Reserve Cabernet,” Savannah said, “Just a glass, thank you.”
The waiter left and Cole took a drink of water, so pissed he couldn’t see straight.
“I don’t think you got my point.”
He leaned toward her and whispered, not wanting to cause a scene. Image, and all. “No, I don’t think you got my point. What difference does it make if I order wine or if the woman I’m with orders her own? Do you think it matters to me that I don’t know jack shit about wine, or that a woman I take out on a date knows more? It doesn’t.”
She laid her hand over his and squeezed. “I’m not trying to make you feel inferior. And this isn’t about wine. It’s merely a cursory overview of what a date might be between a man and a woman. The problem is, you take everything personally, as if it’s an insult, when it isn’t meant to be.”
He had nothing to say to that.
“I merely suggested it might be fun for us to go over the wine list together, Cole. You’re the one who made it contentious.”
He had nothing to say to that, either.
Except he might have jumped the gun a little.
The waiter brought their drinks. Cole knocked back his tequila and let it burn its way down his throat, settling his irritation. Savannah took a sip of her wine and looked over the dinner menu.
“I might have overreacted.”
She lifted her gaze to his over the top of the menu.
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
She laid the menu on the table. “I don’t recall telling you anything.”
“You brought me here.”
“I did. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yeah, but you know what I mean. It feels like a trap.”
“Going out to dinner is a trap? In what way?”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m some monkey you’re training. I do know the right silverware to use, by the way.”
“Good to know. I’ll cross that off the list.” She picked up the menu again.
He opened his mouth to fire back a reply, but the waiter returned to take their order. Cole hadn’t even looked at the menu yet, so while Savannah ordered, he scanned, and ended up ordering a nice, thick steak.
Obviously, he was going to need the protein to engage in this battle of wills tonight.
When their salads arrived, he took his napkin out and made a production of showing Savannah how he placed it in his lap.
She rolled her eyes.
“Did I do it right?”
“That’s not necessary, you know. I haven’t scheduled you in for a manners and etiquette lesson.”
He picked up his fork.
“Yet,” she added.
She started eating, and he caught the tips of her lips curling into a smile.
Smart-ass. He should eat the damn salad with his fingers, but with his luck someone would take a shot of it with their camera phones and it would end up in the tabloids.
Then he would get compared to a monkey, and Savannah would be proven right.
He’d be damned if he let that happen. So instead, he ate and stewed about how he’d been suckered into coming on this non-date.
By the time dinner arrived and he’d plowed through his steak, he was more settled.
And more than a little curious.
“What makes you think I don’t know how to treat a woman on a date?”
Savannah sipped the coffee the waiter had brought her, then set the cup in the saucer. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. But as I’ve been trying to explain to you, image is everything, including how you treat the women you go out with. This was merely my way of assessing your treatment of women.”
“Yeah? And how am I doing so far?”
Her brow arched. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“No. Because this isn’t a real date. You and I went at it right away because we’re in business together. If this had been a date, I’d have treated you differently.”
She clasped her hands together on the table. “Really.”
“Yeah.”
“And what if the next media personality who interviews you tough is a woman? Will you treat her the same way you treated me tonight?”
“Did I treat you badly tonight?”
“No, but that’s not my point. My point is you’re reactionary. Instead of calmly discussing an issue, you get angry and perceive an insult where there might not be one.”
“And you accuse instead of asking for an explanation.”
She turned her head in question. “Do I? How so?”
“I felt dumb for not knowing anything about wines, but instead of asking me, you plowed ahead, assuming I was pissed off instead of embarrassed.”
Now it was her turn to go quiet for a minute. “You may be right. I’m sorry. I would never intentionally make you feel stupid. Not everyone is knowledgeable about wines. I’m certainly no wine connoisseur. I only know a few brands that I’ve tasted and like very much. I’ve been put to shame on vineyard tours by friends of mine who are experts in wine.”