The waiter who seated us greets us, “Good evening, Sir. Is there anything I can start you off with tonight?”

Dakota’s at a total loss. Time for me to step up. “Sure is. We’re celebrating tonight, so we’ll have a bottle of your finest Champagne, followed by your Barolo Riserva.”

The man’s eyes light up. “Certainly, certainly.”

“For our entrée, I think we’ll share a charcuterie plate and an order of oysters, but only if they’re extremely fresh.”

“We just had a new shipment arrive today,” he announces with a broad smile.

“Yes, I’m sure you had. I’ll have six of those, but I can’t stop looking at your seared diver scallops, either. So I’ll have a portion of that too.” I look down at the menu. “Do you have black truffles?”

“Yes, Sir. We certainly do.”

“How much would you charge me for a plate of pasta covered in black truffles?”

His eyebrows fly up to his receding hairline. “Covered, Sir?”

“Absolutely covered.” I grin. “I don’t mind paying, so don’t be shy about charging me the full price.”

“Well, sir. For a normal portion we’d charge thirty dollars, but if you want it covered then perhaps… sixty dollars?”

“I’d like you to double the amount of truffles in my dish and charge me one hundred and twenty dollars for it.”

He gulps, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Honey, you said you wanted lobster tonight, didn’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, smiling up at the waiter. She’s finally playing along. “Yes, I would love the lobster fra diavolo, please. And a side order of garlic spinach. Oh, and garlic bread, too.”

“Oof,” I groan with a wink. “Not too much of the garlic bread, honey, First of all, it will fill you up too quickly and secondly, I won’t be able to kiss you later tonight.”

The waiter’s eyes nearly fall out of his head.

Dakota blushes charmingly, then spoils it by kicking me really hard under the table. While I try not to rub my shin, she smiles innocently at the waiter. “Yes, my husband is right, please cancel that garlic bread, but add extra garlic to the spinach.” She shoots me a defiant look and I laugh.

The waiter scribbles furiously on his notepad before turning to me again.

“Hmm… let’s see. For my main course, I’d like the twelve-ounce filet mignon with asparagus. I’ll take the lobster tail add-on with that too, but I’m a sucker for risotto too.” I glance at Dakota.

“Why not get both?” she suggests.

“Good thinking, darling.” I snap the menu shut with a satisfied smile. “Yes. I’ll take both.”

“Both?”

We’ve ordered around six hundred dollars of food and alcohol so far, if my math is correct. “Yes. Both. Oh, and salads, too. Of course.” I hand him the menus with a smile and hope my appetite is ready for what I’m about to throw at it. Good thing I’ve got antacids in the medicine cabinet back home.

The thing is, the food is excellent. Beyond excellent.

“Wow, this pasta is homemade,” Dakota says with a happy smile. “And the sauce? Oh, my God.” She goes in for a second bite, then takes a sip of her wine. “It’s all so fresh,” she waxes. “So delicious. And all free. We don’t have to pay for a thing.”

I hide a smile. I like Dakota after two glasses of champagne and one and a half glasses of wine. She is all mellow and dreamy. “I know. I’m pretty sure my oysters were just put on ice this afternoon.”

“I don’t know how you can eat those,” she grimaces, shaking her head.

“And I don’t know how you could consume so much garlic and spinach in one meal but hey, I’m not judging.”

She doesn’t even bother defending herself, because she’s too busy making out with a lobster claw. “Oh, man, this is delicious. I’ve never had lobster before.”

“Never?”

“Nope.” She licks her fingers.

“Let’s hope you’re not allergic.”

She smiles dreamily. “It would be worth it.”

I can’t help smiling. It’s nice, seeing her enjoy herself. I didn’t know until now, how tired I was of watching women pretending not to enjoy their food.

She dives in with gusto and doesn’t stop until she’s mopping up the plate with a piece of bread.

“Save room for dessert. You know we’ll have to order some more,” I remind her, as I signal for more wine. That, plus dessert, should bring the bill to just over a thousand. I’m feeling a little buzzed. More than a little. I drank most of the champagne and the red wine. But it’s not a bad feeling. I could get used to this. I’ll have to get a taxi to take me home rather than driving.

“I don’t know if I can squeeze in another bite,” she groans, both hands over her stomach. “You’re gonna have to roll me out of here. I can’t believe I made such a pig of myself.”

“And on camera, too,” I tease.

“Ouch.”

“Whatever. Enjoy yourself.” I want to add. Enjoy yourself for once. I’m starting to get the impression that there isn’t much joy in her life. Not that I would know joy if it jumped up and bit me on the ass, but I at least know how to let loose and have fun without obsessing over the price of the smallest luxuries.