“Will you be needing the menus, or do you trust me?” Giovanni interrupts, bearing a breadbasket that just about makes me swoon with the scent of freshly baked bread.

“I always trust you when it comes to food,” Dash looks to me. “What do you say, Callie?”

“Sure,” I say brightly. “Just no anchovies.”

“Noted.” Giovanni retreats, and Dash reaches across the table to take my hand. He smiles at me, too handsome in the candlelight, and I feel my resolve slip.

“What were you saying?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Nothing really. What have you been up to?”

Dash starts telling me about new business at the bar, and the luxury health spa his buddy Austin is preparing to open, while I seek refuge in the bread.

I’m just picking my moment, that’s all.

Soon, Giovanni brings our appetizers, plates of incredible beef tartare and crisp salads, and we dig in. “How are things going with the workshop-hunt?” he asks. “Did you find anywhere promising?”

“Yes!” I blurt, “It’s a great space, I can’t wait to move in.” I whip out my phone to show him photos.

“Awesome,” Dash cheers. “How about everything else? It must be pretty intense.”

“It is.” I exhale. I’m about to tell him about all the stress I’m feeling, and how I’m walking around with imposter syndrome half the time, but then I stop.

Is he asking as my maybe-more-than-friend, or as my investor?

I pause. I know I got him to agree to back me because of our deal, but I don’t want him to regret it now. He likes to play it cool, but he’s got serious business chops, and I’m just starting out. So as much as I want to confide and relax, I give him a vague smile instead. “But I’m handling it! I’ve got everything under control.”

“Great. You know, we’re having a movie night on the roof on Monday,” Dash says, “You should come, meet everyone properly. Although, I should warn you, they can be a handful.”

“More than your grandmother?” I ask.

He pauses. “Good point. She’s been texting all week,” he adds. “And we still haven’t figured out our breakup story.”

I gulp. A breakup isn’t exactly what I want to be talking about right now. Quite the opposite. But I’ll take it as a sign I can’t delay any longer. These mixed signals are driving me crazy, and if the dessert cart is anything to go by, I’m going to want to be fully relaxed with no butterflies cluttering up my stomach by the end of the meal.

I take another deep breath. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about…” I start, casual.

“Oh yeah?” Dash looks over.

“Yes,” I say, feeling like I’m about to step off the edge of a very tall building.

Breathe, Callie.

“It’s about… Well, this,” I blurt. “What we’ve been doing here.”

“Say no more.” Dash cuts me off. He smiles across the table, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that adorable way they do. “I know exactly what you’re about to say.”