by Kylie Keene
“That’s sweet, Paige, but I don’t think so. Like Kayla said, my hobbies are boring. I never go out. I never do anything exciting. I never travel. So what was I supposed to say?”
She doesn’t respond.
“See? This is why I had to lie. And now if Grant finds out I lied about all that stuff, he’ll have no interest in dating me. My dream man will be gone from my life before I even had a chance to date him.”
“Morgan, you can fix this,” Paige says. “Just tell him the truth. Explain that you lied because you were nervous around him.”
“Yeah, like I want to admit that.”
“Just be honest. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Honesty’s overrated,” Kayla says. “I say you keep playing along and see where this thing goes. Maybe it won’t go anywhere. Did he seem interested? Did you get any clues about whether or not he has a girlfriend?”
“He didn’t mention a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one. But I don’t think he’d go out to dinner with me if he had a girlfriend. As for being interested, I couldn’t really tell. I mean, he paid for dinner and he walked me to the car. And he did suggest going out again.”
“That sounds interested to me,” Paige says. “Are you going out again?”
“Yeah. On Saturday. It was my suggestion. Another dumb move. I don’t know why I said Saturday. Now he’ll definitely assume it’s a date. He acted kind of weird when I suggested it. But he said yes, so we’re going.”
“Morgan, you know Grant’s going to eventually find out you lied to him,” Paige says. “So just tell him. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.”
“I know. I’ll tell him on Saturday.”
Later that day, I’m checking email and see Grant’s name pop up in my inbox. For some reason, I’m not feeling the surge of excitement I expected to feel seeing his name there. I think it’s because I’m dreading having to tell him the truth.
His email says he has an offsite meeting tomorrow and won’t be around. He asks me what we’re doing this weekend but I still have no idea. He leaves me his cell phone number so I can call him when I figure it out.
***
The next day at lunch, I search online for places to take Grant. I’m supposed to know this city and know all the local hotspots, but I don’t at all. I don’t go out enough. Kayla goes out all the time but she tends to hang out at bars or clubs, which is not where I want to go.
“Paige is going home sick,” Kayla says as she comes into our cubicle.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I think she has the flu. Not the stomach flu, but the achy fever flu that lasts forever. I hope I don’t get it. She was coughing on me earlier.”
Paige walks in sniffling. “I’ll see you guys later. I probably won’t be in on Monday.”
“You need to go home, Paige. You’re infecting all of us.” Kayla’s covering her hands in liquid sanitizer. I find it ironic she’s so worried about germs given all the disgusting things she touches at the bars she hangs out at.
“I hope you feel better,” I say to Paige as she sniffles some more.
“Thanks.” She turns to leave, then stops suddenly. “The conference!”
“What?” Kayla and I say it at the same time.
“I totally forgot I’m supposed to go to that conference in Boston!”
“What conference?” Kayla asks her.
“That whole grains conference. It’s that one you turned down so you could go to the one in Miami last September.”
“Oh, yeah. Miami.” She nods, remembering it. “That was a great time. Had myself a Cuban. And I don’t mean a cigar.”
Paige sneezes again. “What am I going to do? I’m supposed to leave tomorrow. Lisa’s going to kill me. That conference costs a fortune and the plane ticket is nonrefundable. I have to go tell her I can’t go.”
I hand her the box of tissues from my desk. “Just go home. I’ll talk to Lisa.”
Lisa’s our boss and she’s really nice. She won’t get mad. Paige just worries too much.
“She’s gonna make you go in my place, Morgan. You know she is. You haven’t gone to a conference all year.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind going. It’s just for a few days.”
Kayla covers her mouth with a tissue. “Paige, would you please just go home?”
Paige sneezes. “Sorry, Morgan. I hate doing this to you. I know you were looking forward to seeing Grant tomorrow.” She starts coughing.
“I’m getting out of here.” Kayla races past Paige, still covering her face with the tissue.
“Paige, don’t worry about it. Grant and I will just go out when I get back. Now go home and get some rest.”
Paige leaves and I go talk to Lisa. As expected, she says I have to go to the conference in Paige’s place. I have to fly out tomorrow and won’t get back until Wednesday night. I send Grant a text letting him know we can’t go out on Saturday.
Too bad. Was looking forward to it, he texts back.
Actually I’m kind of glad our date, or whatever it was, is delayed. I’m not ready to confess my lies to him. I’m actually considering taking up running and getting that volunteer job at the art center so I don’t have to tell him at all.
Friday night, while I’m packing my suitcase, Grant calls. This can’t be about work. It’s 8 and I’m sure he’s home by now.
“Hi, Grant.” I take my phone to the couch and sit down. “You need something?”
“Yeah. You.” He laughs. “I’m at a bar in St. Paul checking out a band and I’d love to have some company. Is there any chance you’d consider stopping by?”
I smile, because his tone and invitation clearly indicate he’s interested in me. And not just as a friend or a co-worker.
I haven’t answered, so he says, “If you’re busy, I totally understand. I don’t want to mess up your evening if you had plans. I just thought I’d ask.”
“Yeah, okay. I can be there. Tell me which bar.”
He gives me the address and as soon as we hang up, I change into skinny jeans and a white sweater and put on more makeup. I don’t have time to do anything special with my hair so I leave it down and straight, like I wore it to work.
A half hour later I arrive at the bar. It’s in a really old building with a loft-like ceiling and exposed brick on the walls. Round wooden tables are scattered about and the lighting is so dark it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. The place is packed, mostly with people around my age.
I see Grant sitting at a table in the back.
“Hey.” Grant gets up from the table when he sees me approaching. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure.” I smile at him.
Grant pulls my chair out for me and I take a seat, hanging my coat over the back of the chair.
“Can I get you a drink?” Grant sits next to me, facing the band. He looks really hot, wearing jeans and a casual button-up shirt left untucked.
I see that he has a martini and I point to it. “I’ll have one of those.”
He waves at the waitress. She comes over and he orders my drink.
“How’d you hear about this band?” I motion to the stage where two guys and a girl are playing jazz music. It’s not my favorite kind of music but the band is really good.
“I saw them in Omaha last summer. Then I found out they were playing here tonight and thought I’d stop by. But I felt kind of strange sitting here by myself.”
So is that why he invited me? Just to fill a chair so he wouldn’t have to sit alone?
The waitress brings my martini and I take a sip.
“Were you busy doing something when I called?” he asks.
“Just packing for the trip.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to see you before you have to leave tomorrow.” He turns toward me, putting his arm along the back of my chair. “I had a good time at dinner the other night.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“So you’re okay that I asked
you out tonight?” He smiles. “I assume you are since you said yes, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with the whole mentor thing. There’s not some rule against it, is there?”
“Um, no. There’s no rule against it. At least, not that I know of.”
“Good.” He leans back, still smiling at me as he picks up his martini.
It’s official. This is a date. I’m counting it as our first date since he asked me out and it’s Friday night and we’re not talking about work. So only two more dates and we’ll have our third date? I am not at all prepared for that. Grant is really hot and he seems like a nice guy, but having sex with him after three dates seems way too soon, at least to me it does.
We spend the next few hours alternating between talking and listening to the band. Around 11, I tell him I have to go. I want to get a decent night’s sleep tonight because I never sleep well at hotels. This will be the last good night’s sleep I have until I get back.
Grant pays the bill and walks me to my car, which is parked right behind his Audi.
“Nice car,” I say, pointing at it. We’re standing on the sidewalk, next to my Saturn.
“Thanks. It was a gift to myself for passing the bar.”
“Mine was a gift from my dad so he wouldn’t have to drive me around anymore. I’ve had it since I was 16. I’m hoping to get a new one soon.”
Grant slips his arms around my waist. “So I guess I’ll see you next week. I’ll call you tomorrow. Make sure you got there okay.”
“You don’t have to.” I glance down at his black wool coat. It looks really expensive.
He tilts my chin up. “You don’t want me to?”
“I do, but I’m sure you’ll be busy.”
“I’ll make time.” He leans in and puts his lips to mine and kisses me. No tongue, just his soft, warm lips. Unlike Aiden, Grant knows how to read the signs. He knew the night was going well and went for the kiss.
He stops for a moment and looks at me and I smile, giving him a sign to continue. He pulls me closer, then gives me another kiss. And then another. Just lips, no tongue. In my limited time with him, he seems like a gentleman, not some guy who would shove his tongue down your throat on a first date, like Kayla’s friend, Matt, would do.
I feel his breath on my face as he says, “I should let you go.”
I nod. “Yeah. I need to get home.”
He takes my hand and walks me to the driver’s side of my car and holds the door open. “Have a safe trip.”
“I will. Thanks for the drinks.”
I stand there, not getting in the car. Why aren’t I getting in the car? Because I want him to kiss me again.
Grant once again reads the signs correctly and brings me into him for one more kiss. A longer one this time.
And then I finally get in the car.
“Goodnight, Morgan.”
“Goodnight,” I say as he shuts the door.
I drive off with my mind going in all different directions. What just happened? Am I now dating Grant? It was just one date so maybe not. But it seems like he wants to take this somewhere. He’s calling me tomorrow. Wants to make sure I got to Boston okay. That seems like a boyfriend thing to do.
I’m getting too far ahead of myself. Tonight was just a spur-of-the-moment invite to hang out at a bar and listen to a band. But it ended with a kiss so it was definitely a date. A way better date than the last two I had.
CHAPTER EIGHT
8
Saturday I arrive in Boston at 7 p.m., three hours later than planned thanks to my plane being delayed because of weather. I go to baggage claim to get my suitcase but it never shows up. After an hour-long wait at the baggage-claim desk, I find out the airline accidentally sent my luggage to Hawaii. That’s right. Hawaii. A place I have never been and will probably never go. But at least my suitcase has been there.
When I get to the hotel, I’m completely exhausted. I head straight to my room to shower. I always feel like I need a shower after being crammed in with all those people on the plane. When I get out of the shower I have to put on my dirty clothes again. I figure they must have a gift shop downstairs in the lobby where I could at least buy a clean t-shirt to sleep in.
I go down to the main floor of the hotel. They have a gift shop, but it’s closed. Of course. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
The lobby is swarming with people who are there for the conference. They’re all nicely dressed, mingling and networking, like I should probably be doing.
Not wanting to be seen in my half-dried hair, no makeup, and dirty clothes, I race toward the elevator, keeping my head down. In my hasty escape, I bump right into someone. And not a light bump, either. It’s more like I crashed into the person, nearly knocking myself over.
“Excuse me.” I hear a man’s voice and feel his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
“It’s my fault. Sorry. I wasn’t looking.” I quickly move past him.
“Wait.” The man follows me. “Do I know you?”
I arrive at the elevator where a crowd of people are getting off. I’m stuck there and the guy I bumped into is now right next to me. I feel him staring, but I don’t look up. The last thing I need today is some wacko stalker.
“Morgan?” He says it loud so I can hear him in the noisy crowd.
I look over and see a guy about 6’2 with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes wearing a white polo shirt and jeans. He’s unusually tan for this time of year. I know him from somewhere, but where?
“Morgan?” he asks again. “It’s Brad Fletcher. Remember me? From high school back in Bloomington?”
Brad Fletcher. I do remember him. Two classes ahead of me. Football jock. Homecoming king. Mr. Popularity. Mr. Slept-with-Almost-Every-Girl-in-My-High School. At least that was the rumor.
We both get on the elevator. I have no idea what to say to him, so I say nothing.
“Sorry, I guess you’re someone else,” he says. “You just look like this girl I went to school with.”
“No, you were right.” I glance at him, then focus on the panel in front of me, watching the floor numbers light up one by one. This has got to be the slowest elevator ever.
Brad steps in front of me. “I thought it was you. So how have you been?”
“Good.” I’m now staring right at his chest, which is very wide.
The elevator stops and more people pile in, filling every last bit of space. Brad and I get forced to the back and he moves to my side, his muscular arm wedged up against me.
“Are you here for the conference?” he asks.
“Yeah, but the airline lost my luggage so I’m kind of having a bad day.”
“Sorry to hear that. What do you need? I could loan you some stuff.”
I give him a strange look, wondering what he thinks I could borrow from him. The thing I need most is clean underwear and I certainly couldn’t borrow that from him. The elevator finally stops on my floor and I get out, with Brad right behind me.
“Looks like we’re on the same floor.” He walks down the hall with me. “Do you want to grab a drink? Catch up?”
Catch up? What’s he talking about? I barely said two words to this guy in high school. I can’t believe he even remembers my name.
“I feel kind of gross in these clothes so maybe after my suitcase arrives.”
“When’s that going to be?”
“Probably Monday morning. The suitcase is in Hawaii.”
He laughs. “Nice. Bet you wish you were there with it.”
“Yeah. So anyway, enjoy the conference.” I stop at my room.
“I’ve got a rental car here. You want me to drive you somewhere to get some different clothes? I know Boston pretty well. I’ve been here several times.”
I consider the offer. It would be nice to have clean clothes, especially underwear.
“Actually, that would be great, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’ll just go tell my friends. They’re heading down to the hotel bar in a few minutes.”
>
“If you already had plans, we don’t need to go.”
“Don’t worry about it. I see them all the time. Do you need to grab a coat? I can meet you back here in five.”
“Sounds good.” I go in my room and quickly dry my hair, then toss my coat on. When I go back out in the hall, Brad is waiting by the elevator, smiling. He has a really great smile, very warm and friendly, with full lips and really white teeth. I find myself smiling back at him, despite being in a crappy mood from the delayed flight and lost luggage.
“So what do you think?” He checks his watch. “You want to try one of the malls out in the suburbs? We may not make it there before they close. But I saw a Target when I was driving here from the airport. They’re open late.”
“That’s perfect. Let’s go there.”
I’ll be able to get a six-pack of hi-cut cotton briefs to add to my collection. Paige and Kayla will love that.
In the car, Brad starts reminiscing about high school. I don’t remember half the people he’s talking about. But I like listening to him. He has a deep soothing voice and he talks a lot which puts me at ease.
“You can wait in the car if you want,” I say when we get to the store.
“I’m not letting you go alone. This is a big city and it’s late. It’s not safe.” He gets out of the car and comes around to open my door. The parking lot is riddled with ice and I slip.
Brad catches me around my waist. “Whoa, that was close. Here, grab on.” He holds his arm out for me. I take it, not wanting to add a hospital visit to my already horrible day.
When we get in the store, I pick out a pair of pants and some shirts, then head to the underwear aisle. Brad follows me there.
“Could you maybe wait up front?” I ask him. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”
He seems confused until he notices the racks of bras and panties. “Yeah, okay. I’ll wait up front.”
I finish my shopping and check out and meet up with Brad, who’s standing by the door.
He offers me his arm again as we walk through the parking lot. “You want to grab a bite to eat?”
I haven’t eaten since this morning and I’m starving. “Sure. I don’t know the city, so you pick the place.”