At least we’re meeting at Butter, a Midtown restaurant worth salivating over. I fantasize about their hot rolls and the two types of butter that come with them on a startlingly regular basis.

Trying to hold on to my happy food thoughts, I twist some more in the cab as I adjust the waist of my dark jeans. I’ve paired them up with backless flats and a soft violet top because if I’m going to ride this double-date hot mess express, I’m at least going to be comfy while doing it.

The cab screeches to a stop a minute later and I use my arms to brace myself as I’m all but catapulted into the glass divider.

“Thanks,” I mutter under my breath. The driver hears me but pretends he doesn’t, only acknowledging my existence when I pay him the fare and step out.

Now standing outside the restaurant, I walk through the large glass doors and descend a flight of stairs to enter the dark yet inviting space. Butter has a clubby feel but still seems airy with the ceilings stretching two stories high. A massive backlit forest photo hangs over the main bar that’s lined with wood paneling and metal railings, giving the scene a rustic industrial flair.

I look around the entrance lounge until I spot Cristina, Jason and Ryan standing in a second cozy bar area. Cristina sees me and waves, looking like the stunner she is in a maroon V-neck dress with Jason by her side, dapper and business casual in his typical hedge fund manager attire.

My eyes shift to Ryan next. I’d like to say I’ve gotten used to seeing him in everyday life, but it still feels like I’ve ventured through the looking glass. I’m half expecting a rabbit with a waistcoat and a pocket watch to scurry past as I make my way over to the bar.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Cristina gives me a big hug and I give Jason a kiss on the cheek. I hesitate as I turn to Ryan, not sure if I should go for a hug, a handshake or an epic stare-down. Taking the initiative, he grips my upper arm and kisses my cheek. It feels bad. And good. I should have gone with the stare-down.

“Have you guys been waiting long?” I ask, stepping back.

“Not at all. We’ve only been here five or ten minutes,” Cristina answers. “I checked us in, so we should be set. You and Ryan relax and I’ll tell them we’re all here.” She gives me a wink before promptly whisking Jason and her drink away towards the hostess.

Ryan exhales a quiet laugh. “Cristina’s subtle.”

“Super subtle. Let’s hope she really is just checking in and not leaving us to have a romantic dinner alone.”

“Would she do that?”

“Absolutely.”