“Well, Ted. You don’t mind that I call you Ted, do you? Theodore is just too formal for a cute guy like you.”
“Uh, no. You can call me Ted,” Ted said, looking over his shoulder to see where the ma?tre d’ was.
“Oh, don’t worry about Norman. He’s such an old stuffed shirt,” the older man said.
Ted laughed softly. “What can I get you, sir?’
“And let’s forget all that sir stuff. You can call me Trace.”
“Okay…Trace” Ted said, feeling uncomfortable at the man’s relaxation of the restaurant’s protocols. But if Trace knew the ma?tre d’ well enough to call him by his first name then…
“I’ll have a Chivas Regal on the rocks and Sid will have an appletini.”
Sid shrugged again.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask for I.D.,” Ted told Sid.
Saying nothing, Sid pulled out his wallet and showed Ted his driver’s license.
“Thank you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Trace winked. “Well, not right here anyway.”