We smiled at each other over our menus, and my heart threatened to float out of my chest and pat Will’s face. My first date in ages was already going so well; I couldn’t believe it. Not only was this guy totally handsome, but he seemed cultured and even a little bit nerdy.
“Do you mind if I order for us both?” Will asked. “I think we should get a couple of dishes to share.”
“That sounds great.” Aw, a gentleman too!
Our waiter, a young guy who introduced himself as Gilbert, arrived to take our orders. Will asked for the aloo ghobi, vegetable korma, garlic naan, and a bottle of something I didn’t recognize. Gilbert whisked away our menus, leaving us to stare at each other over the table.
Will folded his hands beneath his chin and gazed at me. His icy blue eyes seemed to pierce my soul. I shivered slightly. What would it be like to gaze into those eyes for years to come?
“So, tell me about yourself,” he said. “Your profile says you’re an artist?”
“What?”
Will frowned. “I could have sworn that’s what it said. You don’t draw?”
Dammit, Bethany. “Well, I draw. But I wouldn’t call myself an artist. Not really, anyway. I guess I should tell you my sister actually made my profile.”
His frown instantly transformed into a grin, which put all of his super straight, ultra-white teeth on display. “Oh, I get that. My brother is always meddling in my love life.”
Hearing him say the word ‘love’ made me swoon in a familiar, high-school-crush kind of way.
“So what would you call yourself, if not an artist?” he pressed.
“I don’t know… I guess a doodler?”
Will burst out laughing, and heat flooded my face. Why, oh why did I have to use a childish word? It sounds like peeing your pants or something.
“I mean, yeah, okay. I draw. I like drawing people and putting them into costumes. Like superheroes, you know? Except, I’m not very good.” Oh, God, just shut up, Tess. Stop babbling right now. Just stop it.
Will continued laughing and held up his hands with his palms out toward me. “Hang on,” he gasped. “You’re killing me.”
I watched him struggle to catch his breath. The uncontrolled mirth made him even more attractive—face flushed, mouth open… it was sort of sexy.
He took a long drink of water and grinned at me once more. “So you draw comics?”
I nodded. “Not seriously or anything. I don’t publish them.”
“What do you do for a living, then?”
“I just got a new job in a call center.” I shrugged. “It’s not super interesting. What do you do?”
“I’m an attorney. It’s my dream job.”
“Lucky.”
“Oh, it’s not luck. I’m just the kind of man who knows what he wants and goes for it.”
He eyed me, and the heat in my face intensified for a completely different reason. I sternly reminded myself to keep my babbling to a minimum.
Let him do the talking, I thought. That’s probably safer.
“I’m actually glad to hear you’re not in love with your career,” he said. “To be perfectly honest, I’m interested in finding a woman who isn’t tied to her job, so she can be a stay at home mother to our children. And drawing sounds like a great hobby to pursue on the side.”
Just then, Gilbert returned with a bottle of red wine. Will’s process of sniffing, peering into, and tasting the vintage before giving it his approval bought me a few moments to process his last statements. I fought to keep a frown off my face. He’d made a pile of assumptions in such a short burst, and I wasn’t sure where to even begin correcting them.
My emotions sure knew where to begin, choosing the place I always started from—anger. Until the moment he called drawing a hobby, I didn’t intend to pursue it as a career or let anybody else see my comics. But a fire erupted in me, and I felt a powerful urge to get a website and put my artwork out there that very night.
That’ll show him, I thought.
But as Gilbert poured me a glass of wine and Will winked at me across the table, my flash of anger subsided. He’d assumed I didn’t care for my job, and that I didn’t take my drawing seriously. Could I blame him? I hadn’t told him otherwise.
I took a deep breath. The record wasn’t going to set itself straight.
“Actually, I’m not sure if I want kids,” I told him. “And you’re right, I’m not in love with my career. But I’m holding out hope that I can find something I do love to do.”
“You don’t want kids? Why not?”
I shrugged, feeling a prick of irritation that he’d made another assumption. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them. I just don’t know if I do or not. I’m only twenty-one. I figure I’ve got time to work it all out.” I smiled at him, hoping he didn’t think I was being combative.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy—the one who makes you want to have a family.” He raised his wine glass. “Here’s to finding that person.”
Still smiling, I clinked my glass against his. “Cheers.”
The wine was delicious. It was wet and sweet and tasted faintly like blackberries.
“But I won’t lie.” Will emptied his glass and filled it again from the bottle. “I’m twenty-nine. I’m not looking for something casual. I’m eager to start a family. I have all the other puzzle pieces. I love my job, I have a nice little townhouse on the West side, and I’m financially secure.”
I sipped at my wine in silence, unsure what I could say in response to that. This guy was so forward, but not in the physical way I’d been expecting. I didn’t like the idea of just being a ‘puzzle piece’ and filling in this perfectly planned out little scenario. Something about what he was saying nagged at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what the biggest problem was… or how to communicate that in a nice way.
He smiled at me. “I hope that wasn’t too forward. I just don’t really like to waste time.”
I shrugged. On the one hand, I couldn’t fault him for being honest. But on the other hand, I was feeling less and less attracted to him with every sentence. Our opposite situations seemed incredibly incompatible. I wasn’t looking to get married. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Getting my sister off my back and having a good time in the process, maybe? And I definitely hadn’t been expecting to be knee-deep in a conversation about our future before our food even arrived.
“So I’m on the hunt for a bride,” Will continued, swirling the wine in his glass. “I’ve always known I want kids. Four of them. Two boys and two girls, ideally, but I understand you don’t get to pick that sort of thing.” He laughed.
Realization struck me, and I knew what was bothering me most about Will’s life plan. He never said he was looking for a partner. It sounded like he just wanted somebody who was willing to pop out four kids and let him run the show.
“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out,” I said.
“Yep. That’s the kind of man I am, Tess. I just want to take care of somebody.”
Gilbert returned with our food. He set down the dishes carefully on the table, passing his hand over each one and explaining what it was. They all looked amazing, and I couldn’t wait to dig in. Maybe the business of eating would get Will to shut up for a few minutes so I could collect my thoughts.
“Here, allow me,” said Will, picking up my plate and adding bits of each dish to it.
“Um, thanks.” I took my plate back from him, wishing he’d given me more aloo gobi and less rice.
We began to eat, and the food tasted as good as it looked. Within a few seconds, however, Will’s expression darkened. He stabbed at a piece of cauliflower, sniffed at it, and took a tiny bite. He tossed his fork down onto his plate.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
“What is it?”
“The cauliflower is undercooked.”
I speared another piece of it on my fork and put it into my mouth, chewing slowly. It didn’t crunch; it almost melted i
n my mouth.
“Really?” I said after swallowing. “I think it’s perfect.”
“No, trust me. It’s underdone.”
Will spotted our waiter across the dining room, and began waving at him. “Waiter! Oh, waiter!”
“His name is Gilbert,” I reminded him.
Will waved a hand. “Whatever.”
Gilbert returned to our table, and Will lit into him at a volume that attracted the attention of every diner in the restaurant. I pushed myself against the upholstered back of the booth, wanting to hide my face in my hands. Where had the charming guy from the Internet gone? Who was this control freak that sat across from me now?
After Gilbert took the plate away and promised to return with a replacement immediately, Will relaxed back into his seat. His smile was smug and triumphant, like he’d just defeated someone at a game of wits.
“See? With me around, you don’t have to worry about anything.”
I frowned, not bothering to hide my facial expression this time. “Don’t you think that was a little much? It’s not Gilbert’s fault the kitchen made a mistake. You didn’t have to yell at him.”
Will raised an eyebrow. “It’s the principle of the thing. If you don’t demand excellence from the people around you, they’ll never give it to you.”
My stomach twisted. “Excuse me,” I said. “I need to use the restroom.”
Afraid to meet the eyes of the other diners around me, I scurried across the carpeted floor of the restaurant with my head ducked. Once in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I decided I looked very young, and it bothered me. I didn’t want someone to just “take care of me.” That’s what Bruce had promised Bethany, but that’s not the way their relationship really worked. It was the other way around, with her always worrying about his needs. He didn’t give a crap if she was happy or satisfied. As long as dinner was ready when he got home and she was there to put a cold beer in his hand, he was good.
That wasn’t the life I wanted for her, and it certainly wasn’t the life I wanted for me.
How can I get out of this? I asked myself, mentally running through my options.
There was a fire alarm outside the restroom. I could pull it, and we’d all have to leave. I chewed my lip. That would cost the restaurant an entire evening’s worth of revenue, and it didn’t seem right to punish them just because my date was going down the toilet.
I could fake a stomachache and tell Will I had to leave. I had a feeling a guy like him wasn’t used to girls using words like “diarrhea” and “farts,” so I could probably stun him for a few seconds while I made my escape. The thought made me grin, and that plan dominated the “Most Tempting” list in my head until I left the bathroom and immediately struck upon an even simpler and much more satisfying one.
Just inside the alcove that hid the bathroom doors and the kitchen entrance from view of the dining tables, there was a narrow shelf filled with supplies like spare napkins, salt and pepper shakers, and to-go containers. I stood there for a moment, a plan forming in my head, until Gilbert stepped out from the kitchen with a probably-overcooked plate of aloo ghobi.
“Hey, can I take one of these?” I asked, pointing to the styrofoam containers.
He nodded, and I grabbed a to-go box. With our waiter on my heels, I strode back to Will’s table and poured the vegetable korma into the container. After snapping the styrofoam lid into place, I snatched up my purse and coat.
“What are you doing?” Will asked.
“I’m calling it. You’re an asshole.”
With that, I marched out of the restaurant, leaving a stunned Will and a laughing Gilbert in my wake.
“Wait!” Will chased me down the sidewalk, struggling to pull on his black pea-coat as he jogged. “Tess! Please!”
“Leave me alone, Will. We’re not right for each other.”
“Are you kidding me?” Panting, he caught up to me.
I cursed my short legs. Rash of kidnappings aside, I’d rather take my chances alone on the dark streets of Weyland than endure another minute with this guy.
“Here, let me carry that for you.” He grabbed the takeout box from my hands before I could stop him. “Listen, do you want to come back to my place? I’m sure we can find a lot to talk about.”
“You can’t be serious.” I snatched back my dinner. “Are you hearing me at all? We’re not compatible.”
That was an understatement. Dinner with this guy had left me feeling nauseated and angry. I felt like I’d gone back in time to the 1930s when a woman was just expected to manage the home and make some heirs. I was especially furious because the food had been delicious, but I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to come back here. It might be haunted by the memory of the Worst Date Ever. At least Gilbert might remember me in a favorable light.
Maybe they delivered.
“I like your fire. I’ll be honest. It turns me on.”
Suppressing a shudder, I picked up my pace and wished he’d picked a restaurant nearer to a train station. We had several blocks to go.
“You don’t know what you could have with me,” he continued, matching my stride. “I’m a junior partner at my firm, and in five years I’ll have my name on the sign. I’d take good care of you. Hey, you want to spend Valentine’s Day in Hawaii with me?”
This guy’s a nut job. I began to wonder if he was even a lawyer. Maybe he just spent his days arguing fake cases in his room at a mental hospital. I slipped my hand into my bag, then remembered I’d lost my canister of Mace my first day back in Weyland and hadn’t replaced it yet.
We reached the station’s turnstiles, and I let out a relieved sigh. I couldn’t wait to put as much distance between myself and this guy as possible.
“Well, here I am,” I said.
“Oh, no, I’ll walk you up to the platform.”
“You’d need a ticket.”
“My company gives us unlimited passes. I don’t normally need mine, of course. I prefer to drive my Jag.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and jangled them an inch from my face. The Jaguar logo on his keychain was unmistakable, and my eyes widened.
He’s really a lawyer? I felt sorry for anyone unlucky enough to get represented by this delusional fool.
We climbed the stairs, and I felt Will’s hand on the small of my back. It was like he was afraid I’d fall backward or something. He’d probably love it. Then he could save me and feel like I owed him my life. Ugh.
He walked me all the way to the edge of the platform. I looked up the track, hoping we’d arrived just in time for me to hop onto the train. For the first time that evening, luck was on my side. The train was rounding the bend, and our goodbye would have to be quick. I felt my face light up. This was it. I was free.
Will looked visibly disappointed when he saw the train arriving. “Oh,” he said. “I guess this is it. Well, I had a really good time, Tess. I hope we can do it again. Consider my offer, okay?”
He leaned in and closed his eyes, and I realized he was trying to kiss me. I arched backward to avoid his lips and sidestepped when my back couldn’t bend any further. Will’s eyes flew open, and he looked shocked to find that I wasn’t in front of him anymore.
I stuck out my hand, firmly indicating that a handshake was all he was going to get. “Thanks for dinner.”
Hurt flashed across Will’s face, but he shook my hand, and I stepped through the open doors and onto the train. They closed behind me, and I sagged against the stanchion, holding my leftovers in my left hand while my right gripped the cool metal pole.
First thing when I get home, I’m deleting my dating profile, I thought as the train began to move. If this is what I can expect, I don’t want anything to do with it.
“What a romantic parting,” said a voice behind me.
A tall guy in a black hoodie was sitting on the bench beside the door. His face was shadowed, and when he offered me a seat beside him, I shook my head. After just escaping Will, I wanted to stay out of an
yone’s reach.
“First date?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I’d just spent the last ninety minutes in the company of a creep; I wasn’t about to start dealing with another one. I simply shrugged and stared out the window, intending to look very engrossed in the view.
“Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
His voice suddenly sounded familiar, and I turned to face him. My fellow train rider pulled back his hood in an all-too-familiar gesture, revealing a chiseled face, square jaw, and sandy shoulder-length hair. It was weird. He was dressed exactly the same way he’d been when I’d first seen him, but I expected to see him in scrubs. They suited him.
His name had stuck in my memory. “Hi, Reed.”
He grinned, and my ears grew hot. I hoped the stinging cold I’d walked through with Will to get to the train had left my cheeks rosy enough to mask my flush of embarrassment, but the glint of laughter in Reed’s brown eyes told me otherwise. Of all the tens of thousands of people in Weyland, of all the trains that ran through the city, this guy was seeing me in yet another embarrassing situation.
This night just kept getting better.
“Smells good,” he said, nodding toward the leftovers in my hand. “How was your evening?”
“Fine,” I said politely. “How was yours?”
Reed cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. He would’ve looked angry if not for the wide, friendly smile on his face. “Don’t ever run for office. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“Because you’re gripping that stanchion like it’s the only thing holding you up right now.”
Looking down at my hand, I saw he was right. I relaxed my grip on the tall metal post and ordered my shoulders to sit lower while I was at it.
“All right,” I said. “You’ve got me. First date. And last. If I never see that guy again, it’ll be way too soon.”
Reed laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound. “I’ve been on a couple of those. It always feels like a bait-and-switch, you know? Like halfway through dinner I’m wondering if my date was replaced by a cyborg with a personality disorder.”
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