"I'm glad you could join me, Angel. Sit."
     Angel sat, nervous. She picked up a menu and stared at it for several seconds before realizing it was the wine list, and that some of the wines on the list were worth more that last week's paycheck.
     She put the wine list down hurriedly and picked up the menu. Her face was warm, and she tried to cover her blush with the menu.
     After several seconds of silence, Angel risked a glance over her menu at the man across from her, sure he would have noticed her blunder, sure he must be laughing at her.
     Henry Bonham, President of the Bonham Foundation, the third-largest privately owned corporation in the United States, the man who might be her--don't think about that, she told herself--was engrossed in his menu, apparently oblivious to anything around him, even though she knew he'd been looking at her when she sat and fumbled for the wine list.
     Angel smiled, feeling a surge of affection for this man. He looked up, as if he could sense her scrutiny, and he smiled at her. "Have you decided?"
     Angel's brow crinkled. "Decided?" Decided what, she wondered, but would not say aloud.
     He pointed to her menu, gesturing with his. "What you want to eat. There's a pasta dish I'm particularly fond of here, if you want a recommendation."
     Angel glanced at the menu she'd stared at but not really read, and replied, "No, I haven't--decided yet." And she busied herself with actually reading the menu, trying to ignore the prices.

     The waiter came and went, taking their order and refilling their water glasses. Angel responded when the two men looked at her, but she didn't know what she had ordered.
     Finally, once the waiter left, Henry Bonham spoke, "Angel, I'm sorry I couldn't meet with you before. I wanted to, but it was a very busy time for me, just after you called. So I want to thank you for submitting the samples without having laid eyes on me."
     Angel smiled tightly, too nervous to speak.
     He smiled gently, and reached dow to pick up his briefcase. "Shall we just get this over with?"
     Angel nodded once, toying with her napkin.
     He pulled an envelope out of the front pocket, and put the briefcase back on the floor. He held it up for her to see; it was still sealed. "Would you like to do the honors?"
     Angel swallowed her nervousness and nodded decisively. She held out her hand and received the envelope.
     Her hands didn't shake at all as she opened it. She pulled out the piece of paper and stared at it long enough to be sure of the results, then she smiled and handed him the paper.
     He smiled at her without looking at it. "Positive?"
     "Yes."
     The waiter came back with their food, asked if they needed anything else, and left them alone again.
     "So, Angel, how do we go from here? I'd like to be in your life, but I'll understand if you want to get to know me first, or--"
     Angel smiled. "No. Do you--do you mind if I call you 'Dad'?"
     Her father reached out and laid his hand on hers. "Not at all, honey."