I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me. This was a brand new experience—full of potential. If I left, I would never know what might have been.
Subtle clanging drew me from my thoughts. The door of the cafe had swung open, jostling the bell above it. In walked one of the most amazing creatures I had ever laid eyes on. His chocolate brown hair was slicked back from his bright blue eyes. The button-down shirt he wore did nothing to hide his washboard abs and broad chest. I could not look away as he began to walk toward me. For a moment my heart soared at the idea that it was him—this was the man I was going to share lunch with. Then it raced with panic as I asked myself, if he was so perfect, how would he see me?
I drew a deep breath and was just about to muster up a greeting, when he walked right past me to the next table. A man stood up to greet him. They shook hands and then they began discussing something about oil prices. Disappointed and mildly relieved, I slumped back into my chair. The waitress walked back over to me with her notepad in hand, her smile shining.
“Can I get you anything yet?” she asked.
“Just a water for now.”
“Alright then,” she said. She reached for the extra water glass on the table to take it away.
“I’m meeting someone,” I said. She drew her hand away from the glass.
“Sorry.”
I offered her a brief smile. Minutes were ticking by. A minute, when you’re sitting alone in a restaurant waiting for a date, could become a form of torture. Each second that slipped by made me more aware of all of the reasons why a man simply wouldn’t show up. Maybe he had sobered up and realized whom he had agreed to date. Maybe he had peeked in the window and had thought I looked much better in my picture. Or maybe he never planned to come in the first place and all of this was some kind of sick sad joke to him.
Just as I was about to bolt right out of my chair, I heard the clanging of the bell over the door again. I turned to see a tall and lanky man with curly red hair. He was not my usual type, but he was handsome in his own way. I smiled at him as he walked toward me. I didn’t remember his profile picture looking anything like this man, but maybe it was an old picture. He smiled back at me and nodded. Then he walked up to the counter.
“I’ll have a chicken sandwich to go,” he said.
I realized he wasn’t the man I was waiting for. When I turned back toward the door, the waitress was standing in front of my table again.
“Refill on that water, miss?” she asked. I pursed my lips. I could tell from her expression that she didn’t think anyone else was coming.
“No, thanks.”
She nodded and walked away. I grabbed my purse. I’d had enough of waiting and embarrassing myself.
Chapter 8
As I stood up from the table, the door swung open once more. The man who stepped in was short, with a pudgy stomach. His hair was thin on top and a little too long over his ears. Glasses were perched on top of his long sloped nose and his rounded cheeks had faint scars of past acne on them. I was about to walk past him when he looked directly at me.
“Samantha?” he asked.
My heart skipped a beat. This was him? This was the man I was supposed to have lunch with? He was not anything like I had expected. I knew in that moment that I could pretend Samantha wasn’t my name. Or I could act offended that he was late and simply leave. But when I looked into his pale green eyes I recognized the insecurity there. He was as nervous as I had been.
“Yes, I’m Samantha,” I said. “Are you Richard?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I’m late. I took a taxi and then the driver went to the wrong cafe. And then I got out of the taxi and almost left my wallet in the back seat. I thought you would be gone,” he said.
“It’s okay. Why don’t we sit down?”
“Great. I mean, if you’re sure? I’ll understand if you want to go.”
I felt a sense of sadness for Richard. He didn’t seem to have the slightest bit of confidence. “I want to stay.”
When we walked over to the table he tried to pull out my chair for me. The leg of the chair got stuck behind the leg of the table. He jerked it hard, nearly knocking over my water glass and almost taking out a waitress that was walking past.
“Sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said. I sat down in the chair and tried to hide my amusement.
Richard sat down across from me. His long fingers fluttered over his suit jacket nervously. He was overdressed for lunch.
“So Richard—”
“I know I don’t look like my profile picture. I wore a hat and I might have used a Photoshap filter or two,” he said. “Most of the dates I meet leave because of that. I’m glad you stayed.”
“Why did you alter your picture?” I asked.
The waitress interrupted us before he could answer.
“Okay, now would you like something to eat?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. He was obviously flustered. “I guess I’ll have a burger—with cheese, no pickles, no onions—make sure it’s not burnt.”
“You got it,” she said. “And you?” she asked as she looked at me.
He said to me, “Oh no, I should have let you order first. I’m sorry—I just wasn’t thinking straight.”
“It’s fine.” I smiled at him, hoping to put him at ease. “I’ll take the taco salad,” I said to the waitress.
After she walked away, he lifted his eyes back to mine. “About the picture. I just wanted to be given a fair chance. So many women these days base everything on looks. I know it’s a little deceitful, but if no one ever gets to know me then how am I supposed to find anyone?”
“I understand. Not every woman is like that, though. Honesty is important to me,” I said.
“So I blew it already?” he asked.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean that the type of woman it sounds like you want to meet would rather you be honest.”
“You’re right.” He shook his head. “I just can’t seem to get this dating thing right.”
“You and me both. It’s really nerve-wracking, isn’t it?’
“I wasn’t even sure if you would be here when I got here,” he said.
“Me either.”
“Well we’ve gotten that far, I guess,” he said. He laughed a little. He really did have a beautiful smile. But I knew from the moment I looked into his eyes that there was nothing between us. I felt no chemistry at all with him.
“Yes, we have,” I said. I wondered if I should tell him the truth before the food was delivered.
“I’m really glad that I’ve had the chance to meet you, Samantha,” he said. “You’re very beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I lowered my eyes shyly. Luckily the food was delivered before I had to say another word.
“This is so awkward,” he said.
“It is, isn’t it?” I said with relief.
“I think that we just need to relax. Let’s talk about—” He stared down at his burger. I noticed the large helping of onions on it.
“Waitress!” He waved his hand in the air. The waitress walked over with a tight smile.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I said no onions.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I’ll just get you another burger.”
“Great, but now I have to wait to eat,” he said. He shook his head. “I don’t understand why it is that when I ask for something clearly, you can’t make a note on your pad or something.”
“It was a mistake, sir, I’m sorry,” the waitress said. I felt bad for her as she walked away. Richard must have noticed the tension in my expression.
“Was I too harsh?” he asked.
“Well, you did ask for no onions.”
“This isn’t going well, is it?”
“I think it’s going as well as could be expected.”
“So you’re not enjoying yourself?” he pressed.
I suddenly realized how unattractive insecurity was—I really hoped that I’d never l
et my own insecurities show so clearly.
“I’m fine, Richard,” I said, really wanting to put him at ease.
Chapter 9
When Richard’s new burger was delivered he took a huge bite. I watched as bits of meat tumbled down along his lips and chin. I tried not to look at it, but it was like a car accident that I couldn’t look away from. Richard was a decent guy but somebody needed to clean him up a bit.
“So, Richard, what are your interests?” I asked. I was hoping his answer would distract me from his messy eating.
“I like to read. I like to watch movies,” he said. “And yours?”
I frowned. He had summed himself up in two sentences. I was sure that there was much more to him than that.
“Actually, I’ve been having some adventures lately,” I said. “I’m really into trying new things. I like to get out of my comfort zone.”
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked. “Why can’t being comfortable be good enough? I think people are crazy going sky diving and parasailing and all of that nonsense.”
“Well, I guess it’s just fun to explore a little,” I said. “Haven’t you ever wanted to just shake things up?”
“Not really,” he said. “That’s what most women are looking for, I guess. A fun and dangerous man. I’m not either of those things. I go to work each day and I come home each night and watch my shows. I like that kind of life. I know it’s not fashionable to be so boring, but it’s who I am. Sorry.”
“You should never feel like you need to apologize for who you are,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with being content with life. I wish I was more content sometimes. I’ve always been pretty restless—”
“Oh, this is unbelievable,” Richard interrupted me, sounding annoyed. He was staring down at the last bite of his burger. “I told them not to burn it—look at this.” He jabbed his finger at the edge of his burger, which was slightly blackened. “This is the worst service I have ever gotten. Waitress!”
I shrunk down in my chair. I was embarrassed by how demanding and picky he was being. The waitress walked over.
“What is it, sir?” she asked.
“My burger is burned,” he said. “I’m not paying for this.”
“You ate the whole thing,” the waitress said.
“But it’s not what I asked for.”
“Fine, no charge for the burger.” She rolled her eyes as she walked away.
Richard popped the last bit of burger into his mouth.
“Would you like to get some dessert?” he asked.
“I think I’m good,” I said. “I have some things I have to do this afternoon.”
Aside from the little mishaps with the waitress and our complete lack of common interests, Richard had actually turned out to be enjoyable company. He wasn’t someone I would date, but he was someone that I could see myself being friends with. And the way I saw it, he could really use some advice from a good female friend when it came to dating.
“Alright then, let me get the check.” Richard was raising his hand towards the waitress. The waitress dropped the check off and he scrutinized the bill.
“I’d like to pay for my meal,” I said.
“Why? I invited you, didn’t I?” he asked.
“Because it just doesn’t seem right for you to pay for everything.”
“Nope, none of that modern woman stuff. I’m paying.” He slapped the money down to cover the bill.
“Thanks, Richard,” I said.
When he wasn’t looking I added an ample tip that would be enough to cover the charge for his burger as well. The waitress caught my eye as we were walking out and smiled at me. Once we were outside the restaurant we stood awkwardly beside each other.
“It was nice meeting you, Richard,” I said.
“Even though I was late and a little deceitful?” he asked.
“I still had a good time. I think we could be friends,” I said.
“Ah, friends, yes.”
“I’m sure the right person for you is out there, Richard.” I could see his smile fading. A part of me wanted to fix it for him, by pretending I had feelings for him. But there was zero chemistry between us and I knew that wouldn’t change with time. “I mean it when I say I’d like to be friends.”
“I’d like that too,” he said. “To be honest, you’re not really my type. You’re gorgeous, but I think you would wear me out.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said. I laughed a little.
“Good luck on your search, Samantha.”
“Thank you. Good luck to you too.”
As we parted ways I felt a pang of guilt. I knew he was a fellow lonely soul that only wanted to be appreciated for who he was. But fake affection was no better than being treated poorly. I had been in more than one situation where the man had claimed to be in love, when really he only wanted one thing. I didn’t want to be that to Richard. I wanted to be his friend.
I was still a little disappointed when I reached my apartment. In my mind I had dreamed up a perfect specimen, who would sweep me off my feet. Richard hadn’t been my Prince Charming, but I was glad to have met him.
I let myself into my apartment. My shoes came off one after the other. Into the kitchen I trudged, ready to drown my sorrows in a glass of wine. I had just begun to pour the wine when there was a knock on the door. I felt a little anxious as I looked toward it. Had I misjudged Richard? Had he followed me home to slaughter me?
With fear rising inside me I crept toward the door. “Who is it?”
“Are you alone?” Max asked.
I shook my head at his familiar voice and unlocked the door.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I walked back toward the kitchen to finish pouring my wine. Max stepped into the apartment behind me and closed the door.
“I had to make sure you didn’t end up in bits and pieces.” He followed after me into the kitchen. “Do you have all of your limbs? Did anyone harvest any of your organs?”
“Oh, shut up, Max.” I rolled my eyes and finished pouring my wine.
“Me too?” he asked. He looked at me with pleading eyes.
I tried not to be ensnared by his pouting lips. I tried not to be absolutely wrapped up in how close he was to me as he leaned against the counter. After my date with Richard, the chemistry between Max and me was so much more noticeable. I could barely breathe through the thick tension. But of course it was one-sided.
Chapter 10
I pulled down another wine glass and filled it to the brim for him. “I’m not in bits and pieces. I have all of my organs and I had a nice time.”
“But you’re alone,” he said.
I finished pouring his glass of wine and handed it to him. I thought his fingertips lingered along my hand longer than they needed to, but I forced myself to ignore it.
“So it must not have gone well.”
“It went just fine. Not all dates end the way yours do.” I didn’t hide the bite to my tone.
“They should.” He laughed and took another sip of his wine.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I wished there was a switch that I could just turn off so that he would no longer have any power over me.
“You don’t exactly have a successful track record, Mr. Casanova,” I said.
“It depends on your definition of success.” I could tell that he was getting annoyed by what I was saying.
“I guess it depends on what it is that you actually want,” I said.
“I guess it does.”
As we walked into the living room I tried to force down my desire. Max was not an option, I told myself. I made a point of sitting on the overstuffed easy chair so that he could not sit next to me. After all of the fantasizing I had done lately, I didn’t need to be tempted or confused by his attention.
“My definition includes meaningful conversation, emotional interaction, and the potential for a long future together,” I said. I pulled my feet up beneath me and relaxed into the chair.
Max plopped down on the couch across from me. I watched as his body sprawled out. It was infuriating to me that I found the strangest things about him attractive. Most women would notice his strong jaw or the playful way his hair always fell in his eyes. I was past that. I liked the way his wrist flexed when he rested his head on it. I was intoxicated by the way his fingers curled over the curve of his chin. It was very irritating that he was so beautiful to me.
“In that case, I guess I’m a huge failure,” he said. He didn’t smile, or laugh, as I expected him to. Instead he nearly finished his glass of wine. “So tell me what happened.”
I closed my eyes and thought about the date I’d just had. Even though there had been zero physical attraction towards Richard, I honestly couldn’t imagine feeling attracted to any other man and it was infuriating. While Max, who had made it clear more than once that he was only interested in me as a friend, made my head spin with just the mild quirk of his lips. Ugh. I really had it bad.
“What happened is that I had a very nice lunch, with a nice man, who I hope will be a new friend of mine,” I said. He leaned forward on the couch. I avoided looking directly into his eyes.
“So not the man of your dreams?” he asked.
“Not this time. But someone I never would have had the chance to meet otherwise.”
“I just don’t see the point of it,” he said. I watched as he slouched back on the couch.
“The point is, we go through our lives barely noticing people. We walk past people on the street every day without even giving them a second glance. Unless there’s something spectacular that catches our attention, it’s not worth striking up a conversation.”
“What’s so wrong with that?” he asked.
“I never would have even bothered to say hello to Richard if I hadn’t gone on this date with him. He’s a good guy, and I would have missed out on knowing him, just because he didn’t catch my eye. I’d hate to think that I was missing out on getting to know people just because I didn’t take the time to see what was right in front of me.”
I lifted my gaze boldly to his. I wondered if he could hear the accusation in my tone. I wasn’t spectacular enough to get Max’s attention, even after years of friendship.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 21