Dinner Date

We walk in, and instantly, the voices stop, and I feel all the eyes on me. Eros is grinning like he doesn't care that he just walked into a fancy restaurant with what looks like a prostitute on his arm.

The talking picks up again but is far quieter, and I know I'm now the topic of communication. As we're guided to a table, I keep my head up. Refusing to shy away or hide.

A woman gawps at me, and a look of disgust covers her face. I almost say something until her anger turns to her apparent husband, who's staring at my body.

Instead, I laugh and continue to walk. Sitting down, Eros smiles.

"See, not so bad, was it?" He grins at me.

"No, I think the guys didn't speak about it, or if they did, they no doubt were asking how to hire me," I replied.

"I like you, you're witty." He grins at me, and my eyes roll. It wasn't a joke; the women clearly were disgusted by me, and the guys are no doubt going to try and ask Eros later how to find me.

The waitress brings the menus. I glance through it.