Christian led me downstairs to the dining room. The table was already set.
A big white bowl of sashimi sat in the center, surrounded by small bowls—soy sauce, wasabi, pickled ginger, grated fresh garlic, and a dish of fried rice. A bottle of white wine stood off to the side.
I frowned, giving him a look. "This isn't one meal."
He had an impassive face on, "what do you mean? It's exactly one meal," he pointed to the small bowls, "those are all sides."
"And the rice?"
"That's a freebie."
Laughter bubbled in my stomach and I let it out.
Christian's grin was wide. Genuine.
"That's the Alora I like the most." He said, and I blushed.
We took our seats, Christian sitting opposite me. He handed me a pair of chopsticks, and accepted them, reaching for a piece of fish, dipping it lightly in soy sauce before placing it in my mouth.
