He could take me anywhere and I’d be happy just to be with him. Even McDonalds would be fine at this point.
“I have to admit something.” He turned his head away from me and tentatively licked his lips. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve taken a lady out, and I had to ask for a few suggestions before I made reservations.”
I found that hard to believe considering how extremely sexy and self-assured he appeared. Furthermore, the way he put my shoes on, I assumed he did this rather regularly. But he still had that nervous look in his eyes, so I figured I’d help him relax by admitting my own lack of recent dating.
“Don’t worry, I’ve done very little dating myself. That is, if you call Joan’s matchmaking nights as dates. Other than that, I haven’t been on a real date in nearly three years.”
With that statement, I saw his eyes widen and a grin slowly grow into a full-grown smile.
“That is such a relief.” His light laughter was like music to my ears as he exhaled.
After making a couple turns and getting on the highway, he turned and looked directly at me. “I’m honored to be the one to get to take you out, Maelianna.”
“I’m Maelianna now, huh?” I teased him.
“Your name fits you. It’s unique, full of spirit, and beautiful just like you.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of mine, lightly squeezing my hand underneath his.
“Thanks. Nobody uses my real name. Not since my parents died. I’m not even sure why I said it when I called you. Everyone just calls me Mel. That was my nickname growing up.”
My mouth was rambling on, but my mind was focused on his fingers that were lightly brushing the top of mine. The heat that each stroke ignited in my core was unreal. I looked down to watch the way his hand moved across my skin, gliding effortlessly as if he’d done it many times before. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn as well, his gaze on our hands, as he smiled.
Returning his focus to the road, he cleared his throat and nodded his head as he thought about what I had told him. At least, I assumed that’s what he was thinking, because his only reply was, “yes, Maelianna is perfect for you.”
We discussed the neighborhood where I lived, and places of importance nearby. He had only recently come to Chicago whereas, I grew up in this area, so it was fun to point out different places and things to share with him. There were no odd transitions between us, it was as if we’d been holding hands and talking for years. It was peaceful, relaxing, and I felt like I belonged. I could be wrong, but I think he felt it as well.
We exited the highway as the sun was beginning to set. The beautiful Chicago skyline allowed brief peeks of the sun’s orange and purple rays to shine through. It was gorgeous. Miguel expertly navigated the streets, leading us past the skyscrapers and into the smaller business and residential section, before coming to a stop in front of a beautiful small restaurant. The outside was constructed of brick with wood trim. Three stories high, it looked like a charming old house that had been transformed into a lovely restaurant. On the first level, there was an outdoor deck with greenery laced between the metal railings. Every floor had a great deal of wood trim that made it appear elegant, yet not too fancy. But the second and third floor’s focal point was definitely the trim, its golden hues glistening in the setting sunlight. Looking toward the entry, I noticed script lettering above the door that read, “Merlot on Maple.”
“Have you been here before?” Miguel asked as he leaned toward me. We simultaneously looked out my window together. Me in awe of somewhere so beautiful that I had no idea existed in the city. Him, I wasn’t so sure, but it seemed he was somewhere between apprehensive, yet satisfied with his choice.
“No, never. It looks stunning though.”
“Neither have I, but I was told it has amazingly good food.” He turned his head, locking his eyes with mine. We were only a few inches apart and I was quickly lost in the depth of his stare, forgetting all about where we were.
He slowly looked past my shoulders and a small grin appeared on his face. “I suppose we should go find out for ourselves.”
I followed his gaze out my window and noticed the concierge waiting patiently to open our doors. Shaking my head at how easily distracted we were, I had to agree with him. “Yes, let’s go see for ourselves.”
Miguel walked around the car and met me on the sidewalk. Placing his hand on my lower back again, he led us up the wide concrete stairs to the front door. The reflection in the glass caught my eye. In my line of business, I rarely had the opportunity to wear nice clothing. The way the dress hugged my curvy body made me look twice to make sure it was really me. Not only how I looked, but with Miguel’s mesmerizing appearance, we looked striking together. I had to admit, I liked what I saw.
After entering and confirming reservations, we were led across a beautiful wooden floor, my heels lightly clicking as we progressed to a cozy candlelit table in the corner. The interior of the restaurant was decorated with Italian accents, the walls a golden yellow across the top with wood trim along the bottom. Ficus plants were abundant throughout the room, giving each table its own atmosphere of being secluded.
Miguel held out my chair as I sat down and then moved to the opposite side of the table. We were seated next to a window overlooking the road where we had just arrived. Looking out, I could see the twinkling of hundreds of tiny white lights mixed in among the greenery and railings. It was quite enchanting. The waiter brought us our menus, offering some wine to pull my attention back inside. Miguel was watching me, studying my reaction. I offered a small smile, silently telling him I loved his choice of restaurants. He took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting and then relaxing comfortably, as he returned my smile. As the waiter began to pour our drinks, I noticed the pristine white tablecloth and prayed that I wouldn’t spill anything on it. It was obvious Miguel had put great thought into our evening. I didn’t want to do anything that might ruin it in any way.
Holding the menu in my hands, I tried to decide what to order, but my attention was consumed by the man across from me. His broad shoulders looked strong, his long arms led to perfectly manicured fingers, and even when studying his menu, his brown eyes held me captivated. Yes, I was ogling…again! But in my defense, it was almost impossible not to. He just had such a beauty about him. It was completely masculine, yet beautiful at the same time. He took my breath away.
He peeked over his menu, regarding me inquisitively. “Do you know what you would like?”
I had a few ideas of what I would like, but none of them were listed on the menu. “I have no idea. I’d like to try something new since it’s the Fourth of July and neither of us has been here before. How about you? Anything look good?”
He tilted his head and licked his lips apprehensively. “I like how you see things. Adhering to something you know when you’re nervous would be the easy way to go, but it does make it more exciting to try new things.”
I nodded my head in agreement, then suddenly comprehended what he was saying. “Wait, you’re nervous? For real?” He told me that in the car, but I thought it was only to put me at ease.
“I am.” He leaned over the table and lowered his voice so nobody else could hear, “I’m quite intimidated by the thought of going to the wrong restaurant, saying the wrong thing, or even dripping food down the front of me.”
Closing the gap across the table, I leaned forward and whispered, “I feel exactly the same way. But don’t worry, if you spill your wine, I’ll do the same so we’ll match.”
It was silly. Completely not something educated or mature to say, but it was who I was. I liked to laugh and enjoy life. If I was nervous or upset, humor was the only way I was able to pull through.
Laughing softly at ourselves, we both leaned back, taking our menus in hand again.
“Honestly, I would never have thought you were as nervous as I was. But don’t worry, you’ve already made my night perfect.” I debated going into further detail when I noticed him looking at m
e thoughtfully.
Leaning his body over the table again, he released his menu again, causing me to mirror his actions. Reaching across the table, he placed his hands on mine, wrapping his fingers underneath my palms. The simple gesture instantly ignited flames throughout my body. I followed his gaze as he studied our joined hands, his thumb gliding back and forth, as his eyes intently followed their motion. I tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at our connection, when he slowly brought his eyes back to mine. Looking past the warmth and affection, I noticed the small amount of sadness that I saw weeks ago return.
“My family…” He hesitated, searching my eyes before continuing, “They’re different. I suppose you could say they’re old fashioned. They believe in arranged marriages.” He paused again, looking deeper into my eyes.
Hopefully I was able to hide the shock that was racing through my mind. Do people still do that in this day and age? I tried my best to appear nonchalant, like this was common for anyone to hear.
After finding what he was looking for, he continued, “A bride was chosen for me years ago, but I couldn’t do it. I left home and came to the US. I didn’t want to marry someone because I was told to. I wanted marry someone I loved.”
I really needed to find out about the acting classes Joan went to, because I could’ve really used the skills to hide my surprise. That was the very last thing I expected to learn about him over dinner. Yet, I found that I was truly impressed at the same time.
Leaning back, he sighed, but didn’t release my hands. “So, as I said, I have very little experience with dating. Hence, the reason for being so nervous.” His mouth quirked into the cutest, embarrassed grin.
What do you say to that? Definitely not my first thought, which was that I was glad he didn’t or I wouldn’t be with him right now. How selfish was I, anyhow?
“That would be really hard to go through with family. Are you close to them now?” I was surprised by my own logic, but decided to go with it. It sounded good.
“No.” His charming grin faded and the sadness returned to his eyes. I needed to find some happy questions, mine wasn’t such a good choice after all. “They rarely speak to me. I’ve accepted it though. It means more to me to live honestly and do the right thing, than to live a lie and follow their rules.”
I could’ve followed that with about fifty other questions, but decided to stick with the basics to keep the happy look in his eyes. “So, you came here and became a doctor instead?”
He nodded. “I started off preparing to become a heart surgeon. I thought if I couldn’t make them happy by living their type of life, then at least I could follow through with their dreams of what future they wanted for me.”
“But you didn’t want to be a heart surgeon?”
“No, I actually wanted to be an engineer. As I entered med school, I realized that even fulfilling my father’s wishes and becoming a surgeon wouldn’t make them happy. I had already put in so much work into getting into medical school, I decided to find something that was interesting and stick it out. I became an orthopedic surgeon. I spent about five years working in the field and then decided that teaching was more enjoyable. I’ve been at the university for a few years now and really like it.” Happiness filled his eyes and his smile returned, dimples included. I was relieved to hear that he’s doing what he enjoys if the other option brought such sadness to him. “What about you? Was floral designing always your dream?”
I laughed out loud, probably a bit too much, but the innocent look on his face while he tried to appear serious stole my composure. Once I was able to answer him, I explained, “No, not at all. I was pre-law with a minor in accounting. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to continue and become an attorney, or settle for an accounting career. My parents died the summer before I was going to start law school, and my sister and I were left with the shop. It wasn’t my dream at all, but it made me feel closer to them after they were gone. Plus it gave me and Joan a way to stay close and help each other. So, that’s what I’ve been doing for the past seven years.”
It’s definitely not as exciting as a heart surgeon, or any surgeon for that matter. But it’s who I am, so hopefully he wouldn’t look down on me.
“Well, I know very little about that business, but from what I saw while I sat outside for over an hour, it appears you’re doing very well there.”
“You were outside for over an hour?” This time I couldn’t hide my surprise.
The cutest hint of red entered his cheeks as he realized what he let slip.
“Yes, again, I was nervous. I hadn’t seen you in three weeks and was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me again. So, I tried to come up with something creative to get you to say yes.”
“Creative it was. You definitely achieved that. I had no idea at all.” I refrained from telling him the long list of adjectives I had used to describe him before I had understood his purpose of purchasing flowers with my help.
We continued talking as our food arrived, discussing all the little things, from hobbies to music, and even what books we enjoyed. We actually had a lot in common. There was no pressure and the conversation flowed effortlessly. Before we knew it, the sun had set, dusk had deepened, and evening had arrived.
“Oh, Mel, we have to go!” Miguel jumped up, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket, and threw some cash on the table. “Sorry, no time to wait for the bill. Come on.” He held his hand out for mine and hurried out the door.
“What’s the rush?” A bit surprised and bewildered by his actions, I asked while we hurried down the steps toward his waiting car.
“You’ll see,” he said, over his shoulder.
It’s a good thing I could move quickly in heels or I’d have fallen down the last three steps he sprinted over. After getting us both safely in the car, he quickly drove a few miles, bringing us alongside Lake Michigan. People were scattered everywhere, revealing what we were doing: Fourth of July fireworks across the lakefront.
Once he found a spot to park, which is normally not such an easy feat in Chicago, Miguel hurried out his door and sprinted to my side. Eagerly opening my door, he took my hand and helped me out, shutting the door and activating the alarm behind us.
“Sorry, but we have to hurry, just a little further. I don’t want to miss this.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond and pulled me along as we made our way through the multitude of people and toward the beach. Remembering the heels he expertly put on me, he reached down, and effortlessly lifted me in his arms.
“Miguel!” I squealed as he began walking across the sand. With one hand wrapped around his neck and my other hand holding my dress in place, I giggled at how we must look hurrying across the beach and maneuvering in and around chairs and blankets. His only reply was a brief chuckle as he continued on his determined way.
Before long, we came to a stop in front of a large blue blanket that was laid out. Two other blankets were folded neatly on top and a young man, about nineteen or twenty, was lying across it.
Miguel eased me down gently beside the display, keeping his arm wrapped around my shoulders. Without delay, my arm reached around his back, my hand gripping his side lightly. Looking at the guy in front of us, I was curious if he knew this person, or if someone had stolen the blanket that he set out earlier. Before I could ask, Miguel cleared his throat, causing the startled boy to jump up. He yanked his ear buds out of his ears and nervously shifted from one foot to the other.
“Sorry Mr. Sandviel. I didn’t see you there. I laid down about an hour ago and must have dozed off.”
“It’s okay, James,” Miguel said politely, releasing my shoulders to reach into his pocket and pull out what appeared to be a hundred dollar bill. Not that I was being nosey or anything, but the situation had me extremely curious. “Thanks again for your help. Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sandviel.” James tucked the money into his back pocket, his eyes fluctuating between Miguel and me. After co
ming to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to receive an introduction, he added, “And you enjoy your evening too.” He smiled and jogged away.
Immediately following his departure, there was a loud shot gun sound in the distance, followed by a second and third.
“Just in time, Mel.” Miguel looked down at me with a relieved smile before taking my hands in his and leading me to the edge of the blanket, directing me to sit down. After I adjusted my skirt and brushing off the little sand I’d gotten on the blanket, he walked to the other side and repeated my actions. Carefully scooting over, he stretched his long body appealingly across the blanket, extending his arm, and inviting me to join him.
Pulling my attention away from his potent body, I smoothed my dress across my legs and eased myself back, positioning my head in the crook of his arm. Just as we stopped moving and looked at each other, the fireworks began.
“Yes, I’d say we’re just in time. Thank you, this is wonderful,” I said softly.
Turning my head, I watched the fireworks light up the sky. The voices around us quieted down as the pops and explosions took their place. In the distance we could hear the show’s coordinating music coming from Navy Pier. I was awed that he had put that much thought and effort into the evening’s plans. And not just any plans, but something so special. And he was nervous about not doing it right?
Twisting my body into his, I whispered, “You have no reason to worry about not getting things right, I’ve never had a better date.”
I felt him inhale and exhale a long breath before leaning over and kissing my head.
“I’m happy you’re enjoying it,” he whispered into my hair, his arm holding me close as we continued watching the show.
I found it difficult to focus on the fireworks above us. They were beautiful, and we had a perfect position that made it appear like they were directly above us, but my attention was on the man holding me. His strong arms wrapped around me, the smell of his cologne, and the way he made me forget the thousands of people around us.
Twisted Truths & Leveled Lies Page 5