You're a Regular Decorated Emergency

After 97 missed calls, 30 unread text messages, and 3 days in my apartment, Brendon finally decided to call Kat.

I sat next to him on the couch, stomach in knots, and watched as his fingers punched in her cell phone number. He slowly raised the phone to his ear, and the ringing was so loud I could hear it from where I was. Exactly ten rings, then straight to voice mail. I let out a sigh of relief and tried not to smile.

"Kat, its Brendon. Ugh, well, call me back I guess." Brendon huffed into the phone, hanging up quickly. He stared at his phone, eyebrows kneaded together. "I don't get it, she calls non stop and then doesn't even pick up. I don't even know why I bothered to call her back. Oh well." He shrugged nonchalantly and shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up.

I followed suit, giving him a warm smile. We waltzed out of my apartment, hand in hand, a new kind of confidence in me.

***

"Hey, Nai." I sang once me and Brendon entered the small building. Inside, there were fifteen or twenty tables, with waiters and workers bustling around, getting ready for opening. Naomi was seated at one table, conversing with a man in a white chef's hat.

She waved us over, now flipping through a large book the chef had just given her.
"Hey guys!" she smiled as we sat on her left side. "The chef just said he'll have the entree options out in about ten minutes."

I nodded, shrugging out of my light jacket. Taste-testing is probably the best part of the pre-wedding preparations. I rubbed my hands together in excitement and took another look around. Naomi sure did pick a good place to have cater the wedding, it was small but with obvious good quality.

The chef returned to the table in no time, followed by three waiters. They each carried three plates, setting them down in front of us. One by one, they walked away silently.

Brendon cracked his knuckles and grabbed a fork. "I think I'll work from the left, start my way inward..."
"I'm going to start with the lobster dish, cut across to the chicken then bring it around and finish off with this appetizing chocolate concoction right here." I agreed, smacking my lips together.

Naomi burst out laughing and pulled a random plate toward her.
"Hey! Thats part of my territory!" Brendon exclaimed, stealing back the plate. I giggled and bit into the lobster as Naomi took another plate at random, shoveling the food into her mouth before Brendon could say anything.

"This...is...delicious!" Brendon spit food all over me, pointing vigorously with his fork at the plate he was eating. I laughed and stole a piece, sighing.
"Amazing! Naomi, you need this one, whatever it is!" I agreed, taking another piece.

Naomi shook her head sadly and swallowed. "I don't think I've met more mature twenty year-olds."

Brendon and I high fived, beaming. Naomi just rolled her eyes and wrote something down in her wedding planner. I swallowed the lump of food in my mouth with difficulty and spotted a waiter on the other side of the room.

"Hey, Bren." I nudged his elbow. "Looks like you've got an admirer over there."

Sure enough, the waiter in question was leaning coyly against a table, shooting Brendon flirtatious grins every now and again. Brendon cleared his throat and blushed, not liking the attention.

I smirked, deciding to do my evil deed of the day. "Hello? Yeah, you!" I called to the waiter. He perked up and came running over to us. Brendon shot me a what-the-fuck look and stuffed more food in his mouth.

"Do you need anything?" the waiter asked. He was young, probably late teens, with rich golden hair and obnoxiously white teeth. He grinned at Brendon, who coughed on his food and kicked me hard under the table.

"I think my friend here needs an extra napkin." I said, nodding my head at Brendon. The waiter nodded and hurried off.

"Uhm, what the hell?" Brendon laughed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. I shrugged and winked, turning my head just as red spots appeared on his cheeks.

The chef returned, and him and Naomi went into a serious conversation. I fiddled with the edge of my napkin, folding it over and over again until it was too small to fold any more. Then I just undid it and restarted.

Naomi shook hands with the chef and we got up, getting our jackets back on. I gave the chef a smile and turned to go. Brendon intertwined his fingers in mine and winked at me, making me blush.

"Wait! Hold on!" The three of us turned to see the young waiter from before running over, waving a napkin in the air. I heard Brendon groan and tug at my hand to keep moving.

The waiter reached us and stuffed the napkin into Brendon's hand, red-faced. Brendon just stared at the kid, and eventually he left, a slightly disappointed look on his face.

I chuckled to myself, dragging Brendon out to the car. He stopped dead behind me, looking at the napkin.
"He gave me his phone number. The guy wrote his fucking phone number on the napkin." Brendon burst out laughing, shaking his head in non belief.

I burst out laughing and grabbed the piece of cloth. Sure enough, scribbled on there, was a set of digits.
"Look at you, Mr. Player. Picking up guys at random eatery's."

Brendon rolled his eyes and we finally reached the car. "Please don't tell me you're going to start doing this often."

"Well, if it helps you find what you want..." I raised an eyebrow.
"Baby, you're all that I'll ever want." Brendon winked, laying over the gearbox and resting his head in my lap.