by Chapel Byrne
Shane nodded, seeming to consider her reply. She’d actually been expecting a lot of quick, cocky rebuttals from him.
“I hear you. It seems like this world is built on image, like most people care more about appearances and connections than character.” He sat leaned back in his chair, as if this was just any old conversation, but he still gave off a sense of being out to win.
“Totally.” Lina sipped her beer, then gave him a somewhat victorious smile. “Unfortunately for you, I care about character and you seem strongly weighted the other way, man.”
“It’s definitely part of the way I roll.” He put his crooked grin back on. “But my ability to do that is part of the job. And, arguably, that ability is at least part of my authentic self.”
Dramatically, Lina winced and sucked air in through her teeth. “Ouch. You’re really bone-deep infected with this, huh?”
She didn’t laugh until he did. His laugh was infectious and seemed like the first totally real thing to come out of his mouth.
“Fair enough. Maybe it’s a little too easy to write off my habitual behaviors as my true self.” He sipped his own drink as he considered. “Of course, it really is how I do so well at my job. Should I risk my…rather lucrative and exciting career by giving myself the chance to discover I’m actually a normal guy who likes, I don’t know, a quiet night in and fluffy kitties?”
She decided to treat it like an honest question. She hadn’t had a real conversation since Nikki moved, and, seriously, this guy had a super sexy vibe. It couldn’t hurt to hang out and enjoy it a little longer. “Well, nobody said you had to be like that on the job. Plenty of us pretend to be something else at work. Though,” and she leaned forward a bit toward him as she made the point, “some artists might appreciate working with someone real instead of just another slick suit. Or, uh, slick leather jacket.”
He nodded. “I can see that. So,” and he leaned a bit toward her, mirroring her, “who do you pretend to be at work?”
Lina laughed as she sat back. “Like everyone else in the service industry, I totally pretend to be a generically friendly and infinitely patient person. Someone who thinks bad jokes are funny and who doesn’t notice the customers checking me out. Someone who is delighted to help them even when they’re being completely unreasonable.”
“So, if I came into your work and laid that line on you that didn’t work tonight, you’d pretend that you didn’t see it as just a line?” He was still leaned forward, and the question seemed a bit impish.
“Honey, at work, I’d be one of the girls who just laughed and turned her head when you asked.” She grinned, a little viciously. “And then I’d go into the back and tell the other servers about the line the guy at table 12 just laid on me so we could all roll our eyes and laugh at you.”
He sat back in his chair, a slight smirk on his lips. “Even though at least half your co-workers would eat up the line out in the wild.”
Lina laughed. “Yeah, well. Such is life, right? Everybody wants to be loved, and we all have our different things we’ll take for that. Or give up for it.”
“If I ask what you’d take or give for it, even if my motive is purely that I’m super intrigued by you, it’s going to sound creepy, isn’t it?” Shane asked.
“Totally.” Lina snickered. “But good awareness there. I bet your slick charmer instinct was to put on a schmoozy voice and ask, huh?”
Shane chuckled. “I’m not even going to insult you by denying it. I really may just be too infected by the persona I’ve built.”
Lina finished her drink and looked at the empty glass as she said, “I bet, if you really wanted to, you could rescue the real you.” She smiled up at him, hoping he might take it as an encouragement.
He held her gaze for seconds that felt like minutes. The yellow of his eyes like flames, and she had the thought that maybe the right kind of fire could burn away that slickness…if he wanted.
Slowly, Shane nodded. “You might be right. If ever I do, I’ll know who to credit with kicking that off.” He gave her his crooked grin, but it looked less cocky. Then he pointed at her glass. “Can I buy you another?”
Before she could answer, a guy with greasy, shoulder-length hair leaned out the door. Lina recognized his chest as one of the guys in the band Shane was with that night.
“Hey, Shane, man, can we maybe go somewhere we can crank this party up?” The guy leered over at Lina as he wobbled drunkenly in the doorway. “You can come too, babe. Always room for a hot chick. Plenty of drinks and, uh, other substances, if you know what I mean. Clothing optional!” He gave her a wink.
Lina looked over at Shane and was pleased to see that he looked vaguely mortified. She turned back to the guy, shaking her head. “Naw. I think I’m good, man.” She stood and let out a little half laugh. “Shane, you better go make sure your boys are happy.” She turned as if to go, but didn’t bolt immediately.
Shane jumped up. To the man in the door he said, “I’ll be right in. Give me just a second.” He took a couple steps closer to Lina, and he seemed almost ready to take the step that would put him in her personal space, but he put his foot down.
Lina looked over at him, but kept her body turned toward home.
“Listen, I know that I got off on the wrong foot and that…Obviously, that invitation you just got doesn’t help. But, listen, let me give you my card.” He fished out a card, so smoothly. It was black on one side, embossed with a yellow logo that almost matched his eyes, and white with contact information on the other. “If you were up for it, I think you might be some of the most interesting conversation I’ve had in a while. And, even though it sounded like a line to you, I really do sense a fire in you. I am…authentically intrigued.” He grinned.
Slowly, Lina took his card. “I’m not going to make promises.”
“That’s okay. I just want to open the door. If you chose to step through, or even just stand within shouting distance of it, that would be cool.” He looked away a moment, distracted as the band tumbled and stumbled out the door behind him. He turned back to Lina. “Okay. Time to get these guys off the streets. I hope I hear from you, Lina.” He gave her a little nod, then turned to the band.
Lina turned her head and started toward home. She considered tossing out Shane’s card. After all, it was likely that anything like thoughtfulness and authenticity in their conversation had just been him adjusting his game. But then her brain pulled up an image of him and, after giving her a moment to appreciate his toned and handsome form, zoomed in on those eyes. Those intriguing eyes. She tucked the card in her bag.
CHAPTER 3
It was a week before Lina used Shane’s contact information. She had found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to mockingly describe him to gossiping co-workers. She’d found that his face, and especially his eyes, would pop into her mind and drift through her dreams without apparent reason. Lying in the bath and fantasizing one evening, she found that it was his face that swam up, even though she’d had a particular celebrity she meant to picture while she’d touched herself.
When she found herself staring at her eyes in the mirror, wondering if their copper had a similar impact on people as his fiery yellow eyes had on her, she sighed frustratedly at herself. She told her reflection, “Fine! I’ll text him. But I’m totally blaming you if this goes badly.”
She laughed. Yeah, that would show her reflection…
She didn’t really know what to say, so she simply texted, “Hey. This is Lina from a week ago. Just saying hi.”
When part of her tried to cringe at the unpolished nature of the text, she said, “I don’t get to, like, talk about authenticity and then freak if my texts show that I’m human and imperfect.”
She was in the middle of her lunch shift when her phone buzzed. On her break, she checked.
Shane had replied. “Glad to see my ratio of authentic to charming wasn’t too small. Grab drinks sometime?”
When she hesitated, she mumbled at herself, “Well,
what did you think was going to happen if you texted? Why did you text if you don’t want to hang out?” She rolled her eyes at herself as she texted back, “Sure. When?”
She had to wait until after her shift to check his reply.
“Possible client just cancelled dinner because he’s too hung over. What about dinner tonight around 6 instead of just drinks? Shame to waste reservations.”
As she rode the bus home, she considered. Dinner was more than drinks. Dinner that required reservations was even more. She didn’t want this to accidentally be a date. I’ll just pay for myself. That should keep it clear, she thought.
She texted, “Okay. But nowhere expensive, right?”
He replied quickly. “Expensive is subjective. I’m about to go into meetings. Will text you address as soon as I can.”
Inwardly, she groaned. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be a cheap meal. Well, she’d been trying to live lean so that she could start considering some splurges or some wardrobe updates, so she should be okay.
She was walking from the bus stop to her building when he texted the address and suggested, “And if you’re worried about being too casual, maybe something nicer than you’d wear to fast food? See you there!”
Lina shook her head. This guy was clearly living in a totally different world. Well, I wanted to experience all sorts of things I didn’t and wouldn’t in Wellston. Shane is definitely that.
She’d been smart enough to look up the restaurant online. Lina was pleased to note it didn’t look super expensive, but it was definitely not a jeans place—unless the jeans were designer and you were some kind of rockstar.
She decided that her nicest sundress and a kind of fancy-seeming wrap would be about right. Though she second-guessed herself all through getting ready. Shane’s card did say talent scout. Was this what you wore to hang out with some kind of talent scout who was used to rockstars or future rockstars? And how authentic was she if she was fussing over that? And on and on until she gave herself a stern look in the mirror and let it go. Or at least focused more on singing along with her radio than with questioning herself.
When she got to the restaurant, she was right on time. Shane was approaching from the opposite direction, so she waited.
He said, “I’m used to being the only one who’s prompt. I’m not sure how to deal with someone else who cares about time.” And then he gave her his crooked grin.
She hadn’t noticed, the night they met, how that grin seemed to turn up the luminescence of his eyes. She managed to play cool.
She shrugged and said, “I figure it’s one of the ways my mama raised me right.”
A couple walked in before them. The man had a blazer and the woman’s dress was more what Lina would consider a church dress, nicer than Lina’s sundress. She was pleased to note that Shane had only dressed slightly nicer than the night they’d met. A more polished leather jacket, a shirt with a v-neck so it looked less like a plain black t-shirt, and immaculate jeans. At least she and her sundress were walking in with someone who was the same level of not-quite-casual.
He held the door and he made a move like he was going to pull out her chair, but grinned and backed off when she lifted an eyebrow at that. She’d consider it a miracle if he managed to not be too slick or showy.
The server came over and said, “I wanted to let you know that we have the lobsters you requested. I hope that’s still what you’d like tonight?”
Shane gave Lina an apologetic look. “The guy who cancelled loved lobster. But you’re welcome to order whatever you like instead. I can take the other lobster home in a box.” He grinned.
“Oh, uh…” Put on the spot, Lina hesitated. Lobster hadn’t been on the menu; she had no idea what it cost.
“If you don’t like lobster, that’s really okay,” he assured her.
“I’ve never actually had lobster,” she admitted.
“In that case, what if you give it a try. If you don’t like it, you can order something else. I’m not going to stick the restaurant with lobster either way.” He smiled up at the server.
Lina cleared her throat. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll try the lobster.”
“Excellent!” Shane beamed. “Since you haven’t had it before, would you like me to order the wine? Assuming you like wine?”
“Yes. I definitely like wine. And that would be fine.” Lina felt kind of like a bumpkin. She also silently cursed the restaurant she worked at for not letting servers try all the dishes for free. Not only would it make her a better server, but it would have meant she’d have had an opinion on lobster or what wines specifically to pair with it.
After their server left, Shane asked, “So, what made you finally decide to talk to me?”
She hadn’t really been prepared for that question, and the raw truth sounded like an embarrassing idea. She managed, “Like you said, you were just authentic enough. And the conversation was kind of interesting. I guess I just…decided that maybe there was more interesting conversation to be had.” She shrugged.
“I’ll try not to disappoint. Though I hope you’re up for some basic ‘getting to know each other’ conversation as well, not just explorations of human nature.” He winked. “Though, if you can put up with me long enough for a meal, I’m sure we’ll get to that as well.”
“Cool. So, since it’s a big part of who you are and so you don’t have to look for slick ways to allude to it all night, tell me about what you do for a living.” She suspected she sounded almost confrontational. She didn’t mean to, but something about being near him made her want to dig in her heels and challenge him.
“But I had names ready to namedrop!” he jokingly protested. He laughed. “Okay, since you asked, I’ll give the non-glamorous answer. I basically go to a lot of shows and look for artists that I think have the right kind of thing going on. And then I act as a go-between with or an envoy from the home office, wining and dining and seeing if we can get the artists on our team.”
The wine came, and Shane paused as it was poured. After he’d had a sip, he went on. “So, that’s basically it. They have me in Austin because this city is full of artists.”
Lina thought about the band the night they’d met. “Just wining and dining? Sounded from that band the other night like maybe it’s more than that.”
Smoothly, he replied, “Well, it’s certainly about getting the artist whatever speaks to their passions. Plus, sometimes throwing events if it seems like it will help.” He tried to puzzle out her reaction, to read her overly neutral face. “Are you opposed to things beyond wining and dining?”
Lina played with a fork. “I’m not actually sure. I mean, I didn’t, but my ex liked to smoke weed sometimes. And I know other people at parties we were at did more. I guess…Like, my only point of reference for your job and your business is movies, right? So that’s kind of a dramatic view.”
Shane nodded. “It’s definitely the most dramatic, but I’d be lying if I said it was never anything like that. The artists have seen those same movies, so sometimes what they want is that.”
“Huh.” Lina chewed her lip. “I’ll be honest. I’m not actually sure how I feel about that.”
“Maybe we could talk about something else then? Spare you having to decide how you feel. I promise I won’t drop names and I’ll try to keep the stories of debauchery to a minimum.” He smiled. “I feel like I ought to have prepared with those typical sort of ice breaker questions. ‘If you only had a week to live, what would you do?’ That sort of thing.”
“What would you do?” she asked.
“Sorry?”
“No, I actually think, given the nature of your business and everything you’ve seen and probably done, and given that we both know I’m not sure you’re letting your true self out, I’m actually interested in knowing what you would do if you had only a week to live.” She laughed. “I guess those questions aren’t actually worthless.”
They spent the meal trying to remember and answer ice breaker questions. It was surprisi
ngly enjoyable, and Lina was pleased to see that it seemed to have helped Shane put aside his slick routine.
The bill never came. When Shane suggested they leave and Lina asked about the bill, he told her that it was paid by his company account.
“But I was going to pay for my meal,” she objected.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t actually pay for your meal. The company did. But, if you want, we could hang out again and you could pay,” he offered. “Though it’s entirely unnecessary. Really.”
They were walking through the lobby, saying goodnight to the hostess, so she didn’t reply right away.
On the street, he said, “Did you want to maybe walk or find somewhere to keep talking? I’m enjoying this conversation even more than our first.”
“We could walk. But, listen, I don’t know if I’m comfortable not paying for my own meal.” She hated to press the point, but it had seemed a very important part of her plan for the night.
“Why not?” Shane asked.
“Honestly?”
He laughed. “You’re the one who’s big on authenticity. So, yes, honestly. I promise I can handle it.”
“I just…I didn’t want this to…to be a date.” She felt embarrassed as soon as the words were out. Especially because she kind of did want it to be a date after the good conversation. She was noticing how aware she was that they were walking beside each other, close enough that they could easily end up holding hands or something.
“I see. Well, that’s disappointing. But, okay. Good to know.” He sounded mostly okay, but there was an edge of genuine disappointment on his voice.
She stumbled as she tried to save things. “I mean, uh, I don’t want to say that I’ve decided you’re someone I wouldn’t date. Like, you’re cool and I like talking to you. I just…Before the conversation over dinner, I had as much evidence that you might be some kind of fake that I wouldn’t want to date as I did that you might be cool. And especially since a lot of people feel like whoever pays for the meal is owed something, I just…I came to dinner planning to keep that out of the equation.”