The door chimes as you walk in, and your eyes adjust to the dim, elegant lighting. A host starts to greet you, but then he appears from the back — black dress shirt snug around his arms, apron tied effortlessly around his waist, eyes sharp enough to slice open wine corks.

“Table for one?” His voice is smooth, but his gaze is unreadable.

You nod.

He leads you to your table, placing the menu down with a precision that feels… intense for someone just giving you food.

“I’ll be your server tonight. I recommend the black truffle risotto — but I doubt you’ll actually care what I say, considering how long you’ve been staring at me.”

You blink. Flustered. He raises a brow and smirks. “What? You think because I work here I don’t notice things? People don’t usually blush over the appetizer section.”