He tries

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow on the bustling streets of St. Louis, Grace and I walked side by side, taking in the sights and sounds of the urban landscape. The air was alive with the aroma of various cuisines from the diverse array of restaurants that lined the streets.

Eager to test the ring's power once again, I casually made a suggestion. "How about we try that new Thai place for dinner?" I asked, hoping to see if the ring would influence Grace's decision.

She paused for a moment and looked thoughtful. "Hmm, maybe next time. I've been craving Italian food lately," she replied with a smile.

Noticing that the ring's power didn't seem to activate, I felt a twinge of disappointment but masked it with a nod. "Italian it is, then. Let's find a good spot," I said, pushing aside my concerns for the moment.

As we continued walking, we stumbled upon "Mario's Trattoria," the charming Italian restaurant that my landlord, Bella, had recommended. The warm, inviting glow of the interior lights beckoned us inside, and the mouthwatering scent of garlic and fresh basil wafted through the open door.

Once inside, we were greeted by the cheerful hostess, a young woman with wavy, chestnut-brown hair that cascaded down her back. Her green eyes sparkled with warmth, and her rosy cheeks hinted at a lively personality. She wore a neatly pressed black dress with a white apron, giving her an air of sophistication. I couldn't help but notice her natural beauty and found her to be quite attractive.

As the hostess led us to a cozy corner table adorned with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth and a flickering candle, I took in the charming atmosphere. The walls were lined with vintage Italian posters and shelves filled with an assortment of colorful bottles of wine and olive oil. Soft Italian music played in the background, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.

Shortly after we were seated, our server approached the table. He was a tall, well-built man with short-cropped, dark hair, and a meticulously groomed beard framing his strong jawline. His deep-set, dark brown eyes held a twinkle of mischief, and his warm, genuine smile lit up his face. He wore a crisp, white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms, and a black vest that accentuated his broad shoulders. I had to admit that the server was a strikingly handsome man, even by my own standards.

The server introduced himself with a charming Italian accent and proceeded to expertly guide Grace and me through the menu, making recommendations based on our preferences and sharing amusing anecdotes about the dishes.

Throughout our meal, we engaged in lighthearted conversation, reminiscing about family vacations to the Italian countryside and sharing stories of our favorite meals. As we laughed and savored each bite of our delicious pasta dishes, I found myself momentarily forgetting about the mysterious ring and its elusive power.

As we finished our meal and sipped on cups of rich, dark espresso, I tried to put my concerns about the ring aside for the time being. The evening had been a delightful respite from the uncertainty and fear that had been gnawing at me, and I wanted to enjoy the remaining moments with Grace before she left.