by Lucy Eden
“You’re a goofball.”
“Is that a good thing?” he asked.
“So far.” I smiled. “We’ll see how lunch goes.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve never killed anyone. I did punch a guy for bullying my sister.”
“I thought your sister was older.”
“I have two sisters. One older, one younger.”
I nodded.
“Hey, that’s something else you know about me. Not fair. I’m a vault until you start talking.”
I eyed him for a moment before speaking. “So…where are you taking me for lunch?” I smirked at him.
He narrowed his eyes at me and smiled.
“I can be patient.”
The light changed, and Mike grabbed my hand as we stepped off of the curb.
“Is this okay, Jordyn?” He glanced at our interlocked hands, then into my eyes, and for a moment, my heart stopped beating, and I couldn’t speak for a few seconds.
“Yeah, yes. It’s fine.” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “But I haven’t held hands while crossing the street in a while.”
“Old habits die hard.”
Mike led me to a restaurant called Public School 310. It was a pub-style restaurant that had a school lunch theme. He pulled out a stool for me to sit on before seating himself.
“This place is cute.” I picked up the menu. It was designed like a composition book. “I don’t remember being able to get Maker’s Mark with my tater tots in the second grade.”
“Really? My school had gin martinis on pizza day.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and smirked.
“So, does the food taste like cafeteria food?”
“I wouldn’t bring a woman I’m trying to impress to a place that didn’t have amazing food.”
I froze at his words and glanced up at him but he was scouring the menu, completely ignoring the fact that he just told me he was trying to impress me.
So corny, but why was it working?
“So, is this like your date spot?” I tried to remember that I’d only known Mike for a couple of hours, and he probably trolled romance bookstores looking for single women. “Do you bring a lot of women here?”
“No, this is one of my favorite places to eat in the city.” He closed the menu, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned forward. “And this isn’t a date, remember?”
“Right.”
Because who agrees to go on a date with someone they met less than an hour ago?
“Hey, Mike.” Our server came to the table and dropped off two glasses of water. She was tall and thin, with long curly red hair pulled into a ponytail.
“Hey, Linds.” He smiled at her before turning his attention to me. “This is Jordyn. She’s from New York, and this is her first time in Culver City.”
“Cool. Nice to meet you. I’m Lindsay, I’ll be your server, and you have the perfect guide to show you around.”
“So, he comes here a lot?” I asked Lindsay, and I noticed Mike lean forward and narrow his eyes at me.
“Oh, yeah. Mike is definitely a regular.” She nodded sagely.
“Does he come in here with a lot of different women?” I’d asked the question to tease Mike, but I wasn’t completely sure I was ready for the answer.
Mike was mid-sip of water and I heard him snort before descending into a coughing fit.
“No, not for a long time. Mike is definitely one of the good ones.” She smiled at the man sitting across from me who was not my date, but I was kinda wishing he was. “And he’s a very generous tipper. Like, extremely generous.”
I caught Mike’s eye, and we shared a laugh.
“So, are you ready to order?” Lindsay held up a small notepad.
“I am. Jordyn?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna have a tequila mockingbird…um, oh, the bacon cheddar tots…and the steak, medium, with a side of Brussel sprouts.”
“Great. Mike?”
“I’ll get the Valkyrie on tap and the burger.”
Lindsay scooped up our menus and walked away.
“That was sneaky.” He let out a small residual cough and took another sip of water.
I shrugged and tried for another innocent smile.
“So, if this isn’t a date, why would you care if I brought other women here?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then I closed it because I didn’t have a good answer. I felt like I was free-falling. Mike was cute, funny, and charming. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted him to know more about me. Also, I wondered what it might be like to kiss him and—
Shit. I think we’re on a date.
“Is it weird that this feels like a date?” I asked.
“No, because I’m pretty sure this turned into a date when you started flirting with me in the bookstore.”
I burst out laughing.
“I think you’re confusing a few key details.”
“I don’t think so.” He took another sip of water.
“So, you don’t go to that bookstore to pick up women.”
“No,” he laughed. “That was my first time there.”
“But you live in the neighborhood and you love romance novels. How is that possible?”
“Well…” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You already know, my sister also loved romance novels. We ordered most of them online and there are limited selections in bookstores, but we’d always get those weird judgmental looks.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the side-eye.”
“We always used to talk about what it would be like to have a bookstore that only sold romance. She would’ve loved that place.”
“Loved?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “She died five years ago. Car accident. Some asshole on his phone.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. So, I’ve always been meaning to go in, but it always made me think of her. But for some reason, I just decided that today was the day.”
Lindsay dropped off our drinks.
“Sorry, that was probably a mood killer.” He pulled his beer closer to himself and began slowly turning the glass on the table and didn’t meet my eye.
“No, it wasn’t. Thank you for sharing that with me, and I’m glad you came into the store today.”
“You are?” His face snapped up to meet mine.
“Yeah. I mean, I was planning on hanging out in my Airbnb all weekend, reading books and ordering DoorDash. But instead, I’m here with you, getting ready to day drink and eat tater tots for the first time in over a decade.” My face was burning, and this moment felt oddly vulnerable, but I managed to smile at him, glad he wouldn’t be able to tell I was blushing.
“Wait, you flew all the way to sunny California from New York in the middle of winter to sit in an Airbnb all weekend?”
“That’s technically not the purpose of my trip, but that was definitely plan A.”
“Well, plan B is you spend the rest of the day with me, and I’ll show you all the cool stuff in Culver City.”
“Cooler than a romance bookstore and a school cafeteria with a full bar?”
“Absolutely. But in exchange, you have to talk about yourself.”
“Why?” I laughed.
“Because I don’t know how you managed to do it, but in the past three hours, I’ve revealed more personal things about myself than I think I have in years, and I barely know anything about you. Now, I’m feeling more than a little exposed.”
I laughed again and held out my hand across the table. Mike engulfed my small hand with his, and I felt the familiar stomach-swooping and heart-racing feelings I’d felt when he held my hand in the street. We shook hands.
“Deal,” I said, and Mike answered me with a grin. “Should we toast?” I held up my drink.
“Sure. What should we toast to?”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
His eyes met mine, his smile faltered, and he paused. For a split second, I was nervous that I’d done the wrong thing by br
inging her up again.
“Lola… Well, her name is, was, Laura. I’m the only one that called her Lola because I couldn’t pronounce her name when I was learning to talk and she never corrected me.” He let out a small nostalgic chuckle while continuing to stare into his beer. My eyes stung a little and I got the sense that Mike didn’t talk about his sister often.
“To Laura?” I asked. He looked up from his drink and met my eye. His expression was confusing. It was like a mix of gratitude and adoration with a tinge of sadness.
“To Laura,” he whispered and held up his pint.
We nodded and we clinked glasses.
3
“Okay, so if you were on a date with a woman and you wanted to convince her that you weren’t a serial killer, this is the last place you should bring her.”
Mike laughed as he held the door open to The Museum of Jurassic Technology. The outside was small and unassuming, but after peering inside, I was greeted with a dark hall with hauntingly illuminated displays. It looked like a place Tim Burton would go to cheer himself up. I raised a skeptical eyebrow at Mike.
“You’re gonna love this place, trust me, and there are plenty of witnesses.” He did have a point. There were plenty of people around, and he hadn’t steered me wrong so far.
I kept my skeptical expression as I passed under the arm that was holding the door open and walked inside.
“So, what exactly is Jurassic Technology?” I asked as we passed a display that held a pair of old dice.
“I’ll be honest with you. I have no idea, but this is a creepy museum full of cool shit…and there’s free tea and cookies.”
“Free tea and cookies? You definitely should’ve led with that.”
We walked around the weirdest museum I’d ever seen, and I continued to answer Mike’s questions.
I told him that I’d grown up in Harlem and Brooklyn. I was an only child, and my parents were doctors. I’d graduated from MIT with a BS in computer science and engineering. I’d spent the last four years working at different start-ups and was looking for something more stable. He changed the subject to romance novels, which didn’t surprise me. Usually, when I started talking about programming, people’s eyes started to glaze over with boredom.
“Well, my mother and her sister are addicts. They even go on an annual cruise hosted by their favorite romance author. But, I have to admit that even though I had a lot of access to the good stuff—my mom and aunt’s words—I also side-eyed them until my freshman year in college.”
Mike gasped in feigned indignation and shook his head at me. I huffed out a small chuckle.
“My brain was fried from finals, and I wanted to read something that wasn’t Mathematical Structures or Computer Simulations, so while I was home on break, I picked up one of my mom’s books. And well, I quickly realized how wrong I was about romance novels, and now I’m hooked.” I shrugged.
“Well, at least you realized the error of your ways when you were still young.”
“Ha ha,” I deadpanned. “Hey, are those dead mice on a piece of bread?” I scowled at another display case.
Mike turned his head to look at the exhibit I was pointing to.
“Yup. It appears so… Hey, you ready for those free cookies? I think the tea room is closing soon.”
“Looking at dead mice on a piece of bread made you want cookies?”
“Free cookies, Jordyn. I never say no to free cookies.”
I laughed as Mike slipped my hand into his and led me to the tea room.
“Okay, your dad’s a neurosurgeon and your mom’s a pediatric oncologist?”
I nodded. Mike’s plan to impress me was working so far. It was as if he’d memorized everything I’d told him about myself.
“And they met in med school?”
“Yes, they were two of the few Black med students at Columbia, so they ended up running in the same circle of friends…and they ended up together.”
“That’s cool. And then they had you.”
“Yup. It’s funny because they initially didn’t want kids. One day, my mom asked the mother of one of her patients if she knew about her daughter’s diagnosis before she had her and what was in store, would she still have gone through with it. The woman said that there’s never a way to predict a favorable outcome. There’s never a right time, a perfect amount of money, or an instruction manual. There’s only love and everything in life is an unpredictable leap of faith.” I shrugged.
“So, my mom talked to my dad and they decided to try for a baby before learning it wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be. Four years and three rounds of IVF later, I was born.” I shrugged again and took a bite of my cookie. “That felt like TMI. Was that TMI… Sorry.” I accidentally sprayed Mike with crumbs.
“No, not at all.” He was giving me the most adorable smile, and it made my chest feel warm, but maybe that was the residual effects of the tequila I had at lunch. “That’s actually a much nicer story than how my parents met.”
“Really? Spill.” I brought my teacup to my lips.
“Well, my dad won my mom in a poker game. A week later, they got married, and my sister was born nine months later.”
“What?” I spluttered, almost choking on my tea. Mike shrugged and took an exaggerated sip from his teacup, pinky out and everything. “Um, no. There has to be more to that story. Please, tell me there’s more to that story.”
He gave me a coy smile before taking a deep breath, evidently having tortured me enough.
“So, my mom is a former model and pageant queen. When she was Miss Colombia, she participated in a charity casino night at the Beverly Hills Hotel. There was a poker tournament, and the prize was dinner with my mom.” He laughed at my expression of mild outrage. “It’s not what you’re thinking. It was a photo op. They sat at a table in one of the hotel’s restaurants. Mom wore her crown and sash while she and Dad posed for pictures. Totally innocent and staged, but Dad charmed my mom that night and they were inseparable after that.”
“Okay, that’s actually really sweet. You definitely need to work on the way you tell that story.”
Mike smiled and looked at his watch.
“Last call for cookies?” he said before putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to stand.
“I think I’m good on cookies.”
“Cool. We have another hour before the museum closes. Wanna walk around some more?”
“As long as we can avoid the dead mice on bread.”
“We definitely can, but I can’t guarantee you won’t see something worse.”
I laughed as Mike helped me to my feet. I hooked my arm around his bicep. “Is this okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s perfect.” He covered the hand that was holding his bicep with one of his own. “So, what happened to the lady’s kid? Your mom’s patient?”
“Oh, she’s been cancer-free for over thirty years. Our families still keep in touch, and I’m named after her.”
4
When we finally left the museum, the sun was beginning to set.
“So, what now?”
“You still want to hang out? I don’t want you getting tired of me.” He squeezed my hand.
“Well, you’re not in danger of that yet, but the night is still young.”
We were walking past a statue of a lion standing on its hind legs with its arms outstretched, wearing a robe in the middle of alternating jets of water that sprayed from the sidewalk.
“What’s the story there?” I pointed.
“That’s the lion’s fountain.”
“The lion’s fountain?” I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Yeah…?”
“I mean, Culver City is home to some of the best storytellers in the world and this is the best name they could come up with?”
Mike barked out another laugh.
“Okay, brainiac, what would you name it?”
“I don’t know, but something better. Like, why is it wearing a robe? Is it dancing? Why is it s
tanding on two legs? What’s the significance of the water? Where does a lion get a robe? Who made—”
My barrage of questions was interrupted by Mike pressing his lips to mine. His large palms glided over my cheeks, holding me in place for him as his warm breath caressed my face. My heart was pounding out of my chest and my skin was shimmering with electricity. I started to reach my arms up to wrap around his neck and part my lips to deepen our kiss when he pulled away quickly with a loud smacking sound…too quickly.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that…just kissed you like that.” He reached up to grab the back of his neck. His face was red like it had been in the bookstore, and I was still recovering from his unexpected, yet very welcome, kiss. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it stole my breath and was overwhelming in the best way. I’d never been kissed like that before. Mike had kissed me like it was the most important thing he would ever do in his life. And while I understood and appreciated why he stopped himself, I wanted more.
“Hey. It’s okay,” I said, still feeling the ghost of his lips on mine.
“No, it wasn’t. It was spending all this time with you… And you’re so beautiful and smart and funny. Then the sunset was so perfect.” He gestured at the darkening sky. “And you were asking all those questions about the fountain, and it was so fucking hilarious and cute…”
I tucked my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing at him when he was clearly doing way too much.
“Did I fuck this up?” He raised his eyebrows in question.
“No.” And I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “You didn’t fuck this up.”
“Good,” he said in a sigh. He looked genuinely relieved, and it was kind of endearing. “So, did you come up with a name yet?”
“No, I was a little distracted.” I smiled at him. His cheeks were still pink. “Too soon?” I smirked.
I walked over to where he was and stood next to him, facing the fountain, and put my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around my waist and squeezed. We watched the water in the fountain dance in rhythm around the lion for a while before a group of kids ran into the jets, squealing and splashing each other.