“So it does,” Esper noted, sharing a glance with Vir.
A moment later, the hostess appeared, telling us that our table was ready.
***
Dinner turned out to be way more fun than I ever would have imagined. First of all, having a hibachi chef prepare your meal is like getting dinner and a show in one. On this particular occasion, our chef first regaled us by twirling and juggling his cooking utensils, agilely tossing his knife, fork, and spatula in the air, catching them behind his back, and so on.
The entertainment continued as he began placing food on the grill. From stacking onion rings into a small volcano that blew smoke to repeatedly tossing an egg into the air with his cooking implements (and catching it with the same), it was an enjoyable spectacle. Last but not least, as he began cooking some shrimp, the chef tossed pieces at us, daring us to catch them in our mouths.
All in all, dinner preparation alone was worth the price of admission, so to speak. The fact that the meal itself turned out to be delicious was just icing on the cake, and I found myself grateful that Electra had strong-armed me into coming.
As to Vir, he turned out to be a really fun guy. Although I was wary at first, he had an easy-going manner that quickly put me at ease. Frankly speaking, he didn’t seem like a man who had spent the better part of two decades locked up. He had a bright outlook and an animated personality that was rather unexpected, to be honest. More importantly, although I had been expecting it, he never once brought up anything about me and Electra (or more specifically, our relationship issues).
With respect to my ex, things couldn’t have gone better if I’d planned them. In almost no time at all, we both seemingly fell back into our old roles as boyfriend and girlfriend – in word and deed, if not name. We tasted each other’s food, shared knowing glances, whispered silly comments to each other… Electra even reached over at one point and held my hand for a second; it was plainly out of habit, because she hastily let go when she realized what she’d done and looked away in embarrassment for a moment. (Mentally, I gave myself a high five and did a fist-pump, because it was evidence that there was hope for us yet.)
In short, the night was going far better than I ever could have hoped. Vir and I not only seemed to be getting along, but – from what I could read of his emotions – he genuinely liked me. That alone made the evening a monumental success in my book. And then, things came to a rather abrupt end.
Basically, we were just about to order dessert when a familiar tone sounded from Esper’s purse.
“The office,” she muttered as she pulled out her phone and pressed a button. The tone stopped and she merely stared at the screen for a second before putting it away. “Something’s up. I have to go in.”
“Emergency?” Vir asked.
Esper shrugged. “Don’t know yet, but a car’s on the way.”
“Ahem,” I muttered, clearing my throat. “If it’s helpful, I could…?”
I trailed off, but raise my eyebrows questioningly.
“Would you mind?” Esper asked.
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“Okay, great,” Esper said, coming to her feet, which prompted us all to rise. She then turned to Vir and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “See you at home later.”
“You hope,” Vir added, a subtle indication that – depending on whether there was a crisis and how extensive it was – Esper could be gone for days.
Rather than reply, Esper simply gave Electra a hug goodbye and then said, “Come on, Jim.”
With that, she began heading for the door; moments later, we were behind the restaurant. At that juncture, I teleported her, sending her to the main conference room at Alpha League HQ.
A second later, I felt her open a telepathic channel to me and announce, <Made it.> I gave her a mental nod in reply and then went back inside as she broke the connection.
When I got back to the table, I noticed Vir handing a credit card to our waitress, a sure sign that dinner was over.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Vir began, “but Amp said there’s a specialty ice cream shop a few blocks away, and she’d rather have dessert there.”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out who he was talking about, and then I remembered: “Amp” was his nickname for Electra.
“No problem,” I assured him. “I think I know the place she’s talking about.”
“Great,” he said. A few minutes later, the bill was paid and we were heading outside.
Not knowing where they had parked, I let them take the lead. As I walked behind them, I found myself wishing that Esper hadn’t had to go. With her present, there had been a sort of balance to our group: two couples. Two males, two females. Two adults, two teens. One man and one woman, one boy and one girl. Without her, things felt askew and off-kilter.
For instance, we were apparently about to take their car to the ice cream shop for dessert. Had Esper been with us, it would presumably have been either her and Vir in the front seat with me and Electra in the back, or vice versa. Thinking about what the drive would be like now, I imagined Vir behind the wheel, with me and Electra seated behind him. Somehow, however, I didn’t think that would fly (plus, I didn’t want him envisioning me and his daughter in the backseat of anything.) I thought of me sitting in the front passenger seat while Vir drove, and didn’t really care for that. Even less palatable was the notion of Electra driving and me next to her, while Vir sat in the backseat – probably directly behind me.
It
