Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed



Madge had a simple rule of thumb when it came to dining out: "If you're unsure what to order, go for the most expensive. Price might not represent everything, but at the very least, it's a gesture of sincerity."

And sure enough-

When York heard the name of the restaurant, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. But then, he quickly reasoned it out and found nothing odd about it.

After all, this dinner was meant as a token of gratitude, so it was bound to be something special.

Friday evening rolled around.

York Gibson arrived ten minutes early, only to find that Roseanne Cole and her family were already there, waiting in the private dining room. Originally, Roseanne had also invited Leda Reynolds, but work had kept her busy with two consecutive days of overtime, leaving her no room to join. "Really not coming? York will be there," Roseanne had teased.

Leda rolled her eyes, huffing in feigned indignation, "So what if he is? Does that mean I have to go?"

"But aren't you guys dating? After dinner, he could play the knight in shining armor and drive you home."

"Pfft, who needs his ride? I've got my own car! Besides, we're just a faux couple, you know that. And here you are, poking fun at me..."

Inside the dining room-

York greeted them with a smile, "Mr. And Mrs. Cole, this is too kind. It was hardly any trouble at all, no need for a special dinner."

"Oh, but we insist," Norris Cole said with a warm handshake, "Thanks to you introducing Anne to Stoner from the editorial, 'Seven Days' became a possibility."

Madge also nodded in agreement, her smile bright.

The couple seemed even younger than York had imagined.

Norris had a tall stature complemented by a scholarly charm, his demeanor and speech exuding an air of refined elegance.

As for Madge, clad in a jade-green evening dress, her hair elegantly pinned up, she stood by Norris's side with a grace and poise that belied her age.

At first glance, you'd believe her if she said she was in her thirties or forties.

As everyone took their seats, the meal commenced.

Norris had brought along a fine bottle of wine, and after filling everyone's glasses, he first raised his to York-

"As the saying goes, 'A drop of water shall be returned with a spring.' This glass is for you, Mr. Gibson, in gratitude."

"Please..." York quickly interjected, his tone modest, "It's just York. No need for formalities with me."

"Alright, York. Then I won't argue," Norris conceded with a smile.

"Mr. Cole, it's I who should be toasting you..." York, well-versed in the social etiquettes of business dinners, navigated the conversation with ease.

Once again, Norris raised his glass,

reflecting, "As a poet once wrote, 'Grateful for your single glance, together we walk these streets.' They say Stoner was Anne's

benefactor, but I believe those who connect a steed with its rider

deserve equal praise. So, this second glass, I still toast to you..."

The dinner was delightful, and the drinks satisfying.

It was rare for York to find himself in such a relaxed dining atmosphere.

Norris, after the initial toasts, didn't press further on the drinking.

York, who had always felt a certain admiration for the culturally articulate, given his own struggles with literature growing up, was especially taken aback.

After the meal and as they exited the restaurant, York reached for his car keys.

Anticipating his offer, Roseanne waved her phone, "No need to go out of your way, we've already called a cab. It'll be here shortly."

York couldn't help but chuckle as he

watched them leave, the sight of the family getting into the cab and disappearing into the night leaving him with a pang of something like envy.

"Really, what more could anyone ask for in an in-law?" he sighed to himself, a tad wistfully.