Chapter 23

I've only been to a few nice restaurants in my life. And by a "few" I mean, quite literally, two or three. Fine dining isn't exactly a priority when you're living off of the salary I am, but I've treated myself once or twice, when the occasion has called for it.

But Ventine's makes all those other restaurants look like those cheap family chains - you know, the ones that offer "Two For" Tuesdays and $6 pitchers of margaritas on Ladies' Night. Ventine's is swanky with a capital "S." White linens, silver fixtures, soft golden light designed to arouse all sorts of appetites. The walls are covered in dark, glossy wood paneling, and there's a long, marble bar backed by a mirror with silver filigree along the edges.

It's the grand opening, so the crowd is chic and lively and well dressed. I feel a little out of place among these people, even though I'm sure none of them will spare me a second glance. My dress might have come from a department store, but it's as sleek and classic as anything