Emma walked to the front of the restaurant where a pretty hostess was on the phone, taking a reservation. She gave Emma a warm smile and lifted a finger, indicating that she would be with Emma in just a minute. Glancing around, Emma realized the restaurant was busier than the parking lot actually revealed. A handful of couples where waiting to be seated while the bar was practically filled with those that wanted some appetizers and drinks before they got their tables.
“Hi!” the hostess said brightly, grabbing Emma away from her thoughts. “How may I help you?”
“I’m actually waiting for someone and I’m not sure he’s here or not,” Emma said. “He’s tall, probably…” She raised her hand above her head to indicate her estimated height for Kyle. “He has, like, dusty blond hair and really piercing blue eyes. Like Hugh Laurie’s. And he has really broad shoulders.”
“Oh.” Suddenly the hostess’s voice turned flat and the look she was giving Emma was almost accusatory. “You mean Kyle Underwood.” She dropped her eyes and gave Emma a once-over before locking eyes with Emma again. “You’re not his type.”
“Excuse me?” Emma couldn’t believe the quip that had come out of the hostess’s mouth, but the hostess started talking before Emma even knew how to react.
“He’s at his usual table.” Instead of actually showing Emma over like she probably should have, the hostess jutted her pointed chin to the secluded table in the back corner of the room, and before Emma could ask for clarification, the hostess motioned for the small group behind Emma.
Well.
But instead of feeling offended or put off, Emma felt herself smile. The entire situation she had just found herself was hilarious. She wasn’t Kyle’s usual type? He brought all his dates here? And suddenly, she relaxed. When she reached Kyle, she was smiling.
“That’s unexpected,” he said, standing. “I wasn’t expecting Diana to be working tonight, but every once and a while…”
Emma quickly took in the sight of him. He really was tall, and the fact that he was wearing nice clothing only emphasized that fact. The white, long sleeved collared shirt tucked in neatly to grey slacks. He looked good. Guys always looked better in suits, and Kyle was no exception. His hair was still styled so that the locks that might have framed his face were pushed up into careless spikes. If she was being honest with herself, Emma felt underdressed in comparison to him. But it didn’t matter now, did it?
“Let me just get this straight,” Emma said, taking a seat. “You normally take all your dates here, and not only that but you have a usual table? I’m sure you eat the same thing and follow the same script too.”
“My dates don’t normally call me out,” Kyle said. His voice was teasing but it had an undertone of uncertainty, as though he wasn’t quite sure how Emma was going to react.
“Oh, let’s clarify that,” Emma said. “This isn’t a date. If your ex-girlfriend works at the restaurant you usually take your quote-unquote dates, they’re routine.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Um, for the free meal at one of my favorite restaurants,” she pointed out, grabbing her menu. “By the way, don’t count on getting laid after this. Oh, and you should probably know that I have a pretty big appetite.”
“Has anyone ever told you how blunt you are?” Kyle asked.
Emma watched him look at her from over the menu. She found what she wanted and place it back down, locking eyes with him.
“Yeah,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I get that a lot. I don’t know, I just think it’s a waste of time if you go through the motions and find out that you’re not compatible with someone. And if I hate anything, it’s definitely wasting my time, especially with something like relationships and romance and stuff.”
Kyle’s lips turned up, and maybe Emma was imagining this, but it looked like his eyes only got bluer. She felt the flutter of the delicate butterfly’s wing in the pit of her stomach and she quickly grabbed the champagne glass filled with ice water in order to stop it.
“What?” Emma asked, suddenly self-conscious. She had brushed her teeth for four minutes before leaving and she hadn’t eaten anything since a couple of hours ago and she had checked her face right before leaving her car. There was no way something was on her face or in her teeth.
So why was he looking at her and smiling like that?
“Whoa, no need to get defensive,” he said, his smile only deepening. “It’s just, I’ve never heard a girl be so explicit when it comes to romance. Normally, they’re looking for Mr. Right or walking on the beach or all that stuff the movies come up with that makes us guys look bad because there’s really no way we can live up Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.”
“And you call me defensive?” she asked with a laugh. “Someone has issues.”
“Look, I’ve dated around,” he said flatly, “I’ve had a couple of girlfriends before which means I’ve been forced to witness the atrocities that are known as romantic comedies. I’ve probably wasted three hundred hours of my life that I’ll never get back. The only good thing about them is watching them usually got me laid at the end of it.”
“Wow,” Emma said, rolling her eyes.
“I figure if you’re comfortable enough sharing things upfront with me, I can do the same with you.”
“So you’re saying that the only reason you asked me out tonight was to get some?” An arched brow, a challenge.
His eyes sparkled, taking it. “If that were true, I’d have suggested we go see the new Katherine Heigl movie,” he said. “Instead I asked you out to dinner.”
“Right, the same place you take all your dates,” Emma said. “Very classy, Underwood.”
The waiter came by and recited a detailed list of specials. As Emma listened, she couldn’t believe the memory these waiters and waitresses were forced to possess, although she still remembered dances from when she was fifteen years old. The waiter was polite and formal, but when he spoke, even as he took Emma’s order, he kept his eyes on Kyle. And Emma didn’t think it was because the waiter recognized him as a Gulls player or that Kyle came here on a pretty consistent basis. Apparently, the waiter assumed Kyle would be paying for the meal which meant Kyle would be tipping the waiter which meant the waiter’s attention would be solely fixed on Kyle.
She frowned at this realization. It was moments like these when she wished she could climb on the table and act like a snotty, wealthy Newport Beach girl, demanding to know if the sexist waiter knew who her father was. How did he know Emma wasn’t paying for the meal? Besides society’s tradition and women’s high expectations, of course. And the fact that Emma had never paid for a date, ever, in her entire life. And she didn’t plan on paying for this one, even though it technically wasn’t a date.
“So tell me,” Kyle said, once the waiter had left. His eyes pierced through Emma’s, almost as though he could see through to her very soul. Which, if Emma was being honest, frightened her a little bit. “I want to know about more of these interesting beliefs you have regarding the whole romance thing.”
“In this day and age, I’m sure many young women like me share my somewhat cynical beliefs,” Emma said. “I’m really not that special.”
“That’s not true,” Kyle said, and was it her imagination, or did his soft-spoken voice actually sound… sincere? “Remember? I noticed you in the stands before I came up to you at the beach. That’s definitely saying a lot because when you’re on the ice, you don’t notice anything except the puck, the players, and the goal.”
“I was wondering when the excessive flattery would come,” Emma said, but even so, she could feel her face being blanketed with a warm mask of redness. “You’re very good, Underwood.”
“Well, I have had a lot of practice,” he conceded. “Anyways, your views, please?”
Emma leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning the dim room. Couples were involved in intimate conversations, groups of friends were laughing out loud, waiters and waitresses were talking about the specials
. Even though there were tons of people surrounding them, it felt as though Emma and Kyle were in their own little world, submerged in darkness, with only the small, vanilla candle set in the center of their table offering subtle, flickering light.
“I don’t know,” she said after a moment, shrugging her shoulders. “We all have that first real experience of being in love. A first bite of the apple. And something happens which taints every other apple you taste after the first one. Some people go through life still hopeful, though, that they’ll find one as good, if not better, than their original. Some people assume that nothing that good will come along again, so they just give up searching in general and ridicule people who do. If I had to choose a side, so to speak, I’d have to align myself somewhere in the middle.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?” Kyle asked.
“Look, I wish I could be optimistic about love,” Emma replied. “And I believe in the concept that there is a true love out there somewhere for people. But I’m a little bit more realistic when it comes to me, and don’t assume that I’ll find something like that in my own life.”
“I think guys would love you,” Kyle observed. “Do you know how difficult it is to find a girl who doesn’t actually want to play any games?”
“Don’t deny that guys don’t like the games too. Be honest. If guys didn’t like certain things, girls wouldn’t have to play. I’ll give you an example. Most of the time, guys like the chase and if a girl really doesn’t give one, the guy doesn’t think she’s worthy enough since she was so easy to acquire. So we think of these stupid games in order to keep a guy’s interest. Not answering his call so he thinks we’re busy. Not responding to text for however long because of the same thing. Flirting with a guy she doesn’t care about to get the guy she does like jealous. It’s stupid and a waste of time.”
“You really do believe your time is valuable, huh?” Kyle teased, his eyes sparkling.
“Listen, everyone’s time is valuable,” Emma said. “But I have better things to do than to sit around talking about myself, listening to someone talk about themselves and eating some food. I have food at home, and quite frankly, I really don’t care about getting to know other people.”
“Wow.” Kyle actually looked surprised. “That was harsh.”
“I know,” Emma said. “I know. I sound horrible, but it’s hard for me to trust people. I have two best friends and my father and that’s it. Those are the only people I depend upon if I can’t do something myself. And I’d rather just be upfront with someone than lead them on.”
“So you’re totally okay with being alone for the rest of your life,” Kyle stated. Emma gave him a confused look and he explained. “You have to take a chance on someone once in your life, Emma. You can’t always assume that it’s going to be a waste of your time. Sometimes, you don’t actually have to go anywhere when it comes to a progressing relationship. Sometimes, you can spend time with someone simply because you enjoy a person’s company.”
“That sounds like a nice way of saying you don’t want to commit,” Emma pointed out.
Before Kyle could comment, the waiter presented the two with their respective food, and wished them a bon appetite. Although, technically speaking, he wished Kyle a bon appetite. Emma grabbed her intricately decorated chopsticks and immediately grabbed a crunchy roll.
“It is,” Kyle agreed. “I’m twenty-five years old, doing something I love. I’m not looking to settle down any time soon.”
“And do you actually let your dates know that on the first date?” Emma asked, once she swallowed the food. She grabbed another piece of sushi and plopped it in her mouth. Despite the rude wait staff, the sushi really was the best she had ever tasted.
Kyle lifted a shoulder. “More or less,” he said, taking a bite of his own food. “I tell them I’m not looking for anything serious, but girls always think that they’re that game changer.”
“Game changer?” Emma hadn’t meant to speak with her mouth full of food, but the term threw her off that she couldn’t stop herself.
“Yeah,” Kyle said. “You know, a girl who completely changes a guy’s perspective on life, makes him want to commit to her, settle down, refuse to sleep with anyone else. She comes when he least expects it, changing his life by being herself. She doesn’t realize the effect she has on him. A game changer. And I believe the elusive game changer will come for me sooner or later and then I’ll want to forego sleeping with whoever I want, seeing whoever I want. But I have yet to actually meet her and I’m not waiting around for her.”
“When guys meet this so-called game changer, do they actually commit to her, settle down?” Emma asked. She’d never heard this before, never heard of a game changer.
“Some do, some don’t,” Kyle said. “For those who do, though, it’s a big deal. Usually, a guy’s been hurt by his – what’d you call it? – first apple and as a result, disconnects from his emotion and subconsciously becoming afraid to commit because they’re afraid they’ll be hurt again. It takes time, but in the end, the guy’s completely happy and doesn’t regret it. But for those who don’t, everything will remind him of the game changer he let go. He’ll move on with his life and maybe he’ll settle down later on with someone else, but it’ll never be her. And he’ll never be complete or as happy as he could be.”
“Wow.” She pushed her brow up, looking at the off-white tablecloth. “Pretty heavy.”
“Yeah. But I have yet to deal with it so I don’t really care.” He straightened. “Can I just be honest with you? I’m so glad I could talk to a woman about this stuff. I’m glad I can be up front with you. Most just have these unreal expectations and it puts a lot of pressure on guys. And I really don’t like breaking hearts.” Emma shot him a look, but his face actually seemed sincere. “I just want to have right now, and I want to meet girls who want the same thing, instead of wanting some long-term, serious relationship.”
Emma smiled. “Surprisingly enough, I’m glad I can talk about this stuff too,” she said. “Whenever I talk to guys about this stuff, they seem put off, intimidated.” She stuck her hand out across the table. “Friends?”
Kyle grinned, shaking her offered hand. “Friends,” he agreed. They both went back to their food for a few moments before Kyle, his mouth filled with rice, said, “So you’ll be at the game tomorrow?”
Emma nodded. “It’s it’s at Sea Side, I’ll be there,” she promised.
18. The next morning, Seraphina woke up just before eight o’clock in the morning. She groaned, still not used to waking up early for this new job she had been thrust into. Looking out the window, she decided that perhaps an early start would be worth it, given how beautiful the day already was. It was typical Southern California weather that she had to remind herself not to take for granted: a light sea breeze and the sun already shining in a soft, blue sky.
As she showered, Seraphina realized that her previous crush on Detective Christopher Williams had all but vanished. She was still annoyed with his abrupt phone call from last night, and even more so that he hadn’t told her about Alan personally. However, he did mention that the autopsy report was finished. Maybe he would make up for his lack of forthcoming information by telling she and Katella about what actually killed Papa.
Her mind tried to go back to when she found him, lying there motionless on the floor of his office. He never would have wanted her to see him like that. But all she could think about was seeing if he was alive, not what caused him to be this way. And when she realized he was dead, all she cared about was holding onto him for just one minute longer, before the police came and took his body away from her, somewhere where she would never be able to see him again. What happened didn’t actually factor into her mind. She didn’t care at that point. All she cared about was that it had happened, and Papa was gone.
But now, a few weeks after his death, Seraphina found that she was actually curious as to what had killed Papa, and even more than that, who would do it and why. As si
lly as it sounded, she was hoping that maybe she could help solve this, even in some small way, for Papa. Running a hockey team still felt unfulfilling right now. Papa’s killer was still out there. Justice had yet to be found. And even though it wasn’t her fault nor was it logical, she felt as though she could be helping and wasn’t. If the positions were reversed and Seraphina had been killed, Papa would do everything in his power to figure it out. She wanted to do the same thing. It would give her a purpose, instead of just sitting around, doing nothing.
Besides running the team, of course.
Seraphina stepped out of the shower, making sure to dry her face more so than normal. Tears came easily nowadays, but that didn’t mean she wanted people asking about them, asking if she was okay, so she allowed herself moments when she was by herself, like right before she fell asleep and when she took showers. As she got dressed, she could hear Katella bustling around downstairs, probably making some coffee and ensuring the kitchen looked presentable.
At ten o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. Katella led Christopher Williams – who was wearing a green shirt in the same style as the last one Seraphina had seen him in and brown pants – into the dining room. Seraphina was already sitting, the day’s paper pushed off to the side of the table and a cup of half-drunk coffee resting between her hands. At Katella’s look, Seraphina stood until the detective took his seat.
“Coffee, Detective?” Katella offered.
“Yes, please,” Williams said, nodding his head. “Again, I’d like to thank the two of you for meeting with me this morning. I know it must be hard waiting for information about this.” He placed a couple of manila folders – folders Seraphina hadn’t noticed until this minute – onto the table. He began to murmur himself, something Seraphina was beginning to notice as one out of many eccentricities that made up the young detective.
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