by Tiffani Lynn
“Um…I’m trying to reach Simone?” a deep, unsure voice rumbles. Maybe he’ll think twice before he calls someone else at nine o’clock at night to sell something they don’t need.
“You got her. It’s a little late. What do you want? I can already promise you that I don’t want to buy or invest in anything, so this better be something better than that.” I may be getting off on this a little more than I should.
There is a long pause where I think I will go ahead and hang up, but then the deep voice rumbles again. “This is Thomas Wade. Summer Wade gave me your number. Maybe I should call back at another time.”
Damn, this was a bad time to choose to pick up the phone to give a salesman a hard time. I can’t imagine what he must think of me. Ugh. This is my luck.
“Thomas. I’m so sorry. I thought you were a salesman. It’s been a less than stellar evening here and I apologize for jumping to that conclusion.”
“Oh, okay. I understand. I get enough of those phone calls to understand the irritation. I’m calling to see if you’d like to go out to dinner this week?” he says with more than a little caution in his tone. Maybe Gerald inadvertently did me a favor by opening up my Monday and Tuesday evenings for me.
“It’s kind of a busy week but I’m available Monday and Tuesday. Do either of those work for you?” I quickly cross my fingers in hopes that I didn’t scare him away.
“Tuesday is perfect. Do you like steak?”
“Who doesn’t?” I ask with a little giggle, feeling a more positive about life than I was a few minutes ago.
“Okay. I’ll take you to Ocean Prime. Pick you up at seven?”
“Sure, yes, that sounds great.”
We hang up and I smile to myself. At least something good came out of Gavin being at his dad’s house for extra time. Now I have to find something to wear.
4
Thomas
If it wasn’t Summer setting me up with Simone, I would’ve hung up and never called back. Simone was rude at the beginning of the call and it freaks me out that she has that kind of attitude in her.
Mike opens the sliding glass door and steps through carrying two bottles of beer, and I glance over at him from where I’m sitting in the patio chair on his back porch.
“What’s wrong? She not answer?” he inquires before he takes a pull of his beer.
“No, she answered. She was kind of a bitch though. Of course, she thought I was a salesman, but still, the way she acted didn’t sit right with me.”
“That doesn’t sound like Simone at all. The few times I’ve been around her she’s been sweet as hell. A little high-strung at times, a bit of a perfectionist, but always nice.”
I take a swig of the cold beer in my hand and look out toward the water. It’s dark out, so all I see is the running lights on the little boat puttering past. “After Theresa, I’m a little gun-shy,” I admit.
“Was she a bitch?”
“You know she was.”
“Well, not really. Everything I know is from your secondhand account since you never brought her around.”
“I wasn’t bringing anyone else around for you guys to pick apart after Karen. Y’all were so rude to her.”
My brother busts up laughing. “Bro, it’s not our fault you didn’t warn us that you met her when she was working as a stripper named Cherry. How was Mom supposed to react when she blurted that out?” He continues to deep belly laugh as I scowl at him.
“Fuck you. She was a nice woman.”
“Yes, she was nice, but she wasn’t smart and if you’re looking for a long-term relationship, you would be bored with someone like her. Admit it. You only hooked up with her for a good time. She’s not the kind of woman you bring home to your family and you know it.”
“Well, Theresa was no stripper. In fact, she had her PhD and she turned out to be a nagging bitch so she wasn’t fit to bring home either,” I remind him.
“Let’s get real for a few minutes here.” He turns serious on me and I groan. When my brother runs analysis on my personal life it irritates the shit out of me.
“No, no groaning allowed, you need to listen to me. You’ve given your life to the Army, but that time is over. I know what a life of service means and why you didn’t really settle down when you were active duty. But I also know what it means to finally have someone to share my life with. The real deal. The one who is worth it. I get why you didn’t have a steady girlfriend or ever get married, not knowing if you were going to come home. But those days are over. It’s time to open that part of yourself up to someone. A woman with real life-sharing potential. I’m telling you, there is nothing sweeter than the love of a good woman.”
“Says the man who married Summer Arden,” I grumble.
“I’m not an idiot. I know you’ve always had a crush on her too. Who can blame you, she’s pretty fucking awesome, but there’s another woman out there just as incredible. One who is made just for you, but you have to be open to it.”
“I get what you’re saying, but I know for a fact that there isn’t another Summer out there. I’ll be lucky to find someone half as good as she is. You’re one lucky asshole.” I chuckle a little to take the sting out of my words and I take another drink.
“Don’t worry, I know it and I don’t let a moment go by without making sure she knows I’m grateful.”
Mike takes pity on me and changes the subject to baseball so I can relax. We hang out for another hour before I head to their guest room to get some sleep. Now that he lives over an hour from Tampa, I crash in their guest room when I come up to visit, which is often. I promised myself when I was in one of the godforsaken hellholes that the Army sent me to, praying the guys and I would make it out, that if I made it home I’d spend more time with my brother and my sister, Valerie. I’m doing well with Mike so far, but Val’s in Colorado and that hasn’t been as easy to get to, but I’m working on it.
Tuesday comes around and I’m a little nervous as I’m driving to meet Simone at the restaurant. My original plan was to pick her up. Even at 40 years old, if my mom knew I was meeting a date somewhere instead of picking her up like a gentleman, she’d have my hide, but Simone texted saying she was running late and would prefer to meet me at the steak house. I tried to tell her it was okay if we skipped our reservation and went somewhere else a little later, but she assured me this is what she wanted, so I agreed.
I turn the radio up and allow Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard to take over my thoughts with “Pancho and Lefty” for the rest of my drive to the restaurant. Having never eaten there, I have no idea what to expect. The whole front of the place is windows with various colored lighting, making it look more like a dance club in Miami than an urban five-star steak house. Three huge palm trees wrapped in white Christmas lights line the front of the building and lock in that ambiance. If I would have seen the place first, I probably wouldn’t have suggested it. I’m more of a traditional steak house kind of guy than a fancy steak house gentleman.
I pull my truck into a parking spot on the side of the building, throw it in park and hop out, giving the button a little click to lock the doors. Near the front door I notice a few couples milling around like they’re waiting to be seated. None of them is a single woman so I go inside and approach the hostess stand.
“Can I help you?” a college-age woman with a slate-colored name tag that reads Liz asks.
“I have a reservation for two under the name Thomas Wade.” She glances down on to the podium until she finds my name. “Okay. It’s going to be about 15 minutes until your table is ready. Would you like to wait in the bar?”
“Yes, and if my date shows, her name is Simone Sayer, please tell her where I’m waiting.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks, Liz.” I grin at her, causing a slight pink to rise in her cheeks before I turn and make my way to the bar. Expensive wood-paneled walls and white modern light fixtures give the room a classy feel. I know I’m a little out of place when the bartender pours my bottled
beer in a chilled glass, and I consider stopping him so I can just drink straight from the bottle. But I know this isn’t the right atmosphere for that so I remain quiet and take the chilled glass.
Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and I’m beginning to wonder if Simone is even going to show up when Liz comes over to lead me to the table. Once I’m seated along the wall at a table for two, I check my watch. I’m always on time and tardiness drives me crazy. There are a lot of things I’m laid-back about, but being late isn’t one of them. My beer is near the bottom of the glass when a server with a bald head, heavy jowls and zero facial hair, whose name tag reads Pierre, approaches the table.
“Good evening. Would you like me to bring you something else to drink or would you like to wait for the other person in your party to arrive?” Pierre asks in a slightly French accent.
“I’ll take another Stella please. I’m hoping my date will arrive shortly.”
“Very well, sir.” He nods and departs, leaving me there alone. The hum of conversation at the surrounding tables unnerves me a little as I wait, and I adjust a little in my seat, reminding myself to be patient. My dad always said waiting on a woman is the only way to wait. Although I’m a laid-back guy, when it comes to patience with anything, I have none.
Pierre returns with a fresh beer and I’m halfway through drinking that when Simone finally arrives. Liz leads Simone to the table and I’m momentarily awestruck with not only how beautiful she is but also who she is. She’s the one-night stand who snuck out on me. How did I get this lucky? Holy shit! Her attention is glued to her phone until she’s all the way up to the table and I swear I hear a gasp as her head comes up, her eyes lock with mine, and she realizes who I am.
I chuckle a little and stand. “Simone?” I ask to be sure. She nods, her mouth hanging open in complete shock. Damn, I’m a lucky man. “I’m Thomas.” Her neck and face flush beet red before she closes her mouth and swallows. Liz glances between the two of us with a sly smile and hurries away. I reach for Simone’s hand and she gives it to me like I’m going to shake it and instead I kiss her knuckles. There is no way in hell I’m shaking the hand of a woman who spent several awesome hours in my bed. I move behind her and pull out her chair for her to sit.
Simone is as stunning as I remember. A short—but not scandalous—clingy black dress accentuates her lean, slightly curved body, and although she’s in black high-heeled shoes she’s still shorter than I am. I remember every one of those curves and fight against getting hard right here in the middle of this place. Her white smile stands out against her olive-toned skin in the most striking way. Her wavy brown hair swings forward as she adjusts her chair, since it’s not long enough to drag on her shoulders, and the red highlights interspersed catch the light just the way I recollect them.
“I’m so sorry I’m so late. This has been the week from hell, today being the worst, and I had no idea it was going to take me so long to straighten everything out.” She drops the napkin into her lap and relaxes her shoulders on an exasperated sigh. “Now before I die of humiliation...let’s talk about the elephant in the room.” She doesn’t waste any time and I sit back in my chair, beer in my hand, and grin at her. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say about our night in the hotel last week. “You are going to think I’m full of crap, but I never do that sort of thing. In fact, it was my first ever one-night stand. I was embarrassed when I woke up, so I took off. I’m sorry.”
“First, you should have told me you were having a crazy week and we could’ve done this when I came back from Key West with Summer. Next, I took you to my room without knowing your name or how to contact you, so I’m as guilty as you are and don’t think less of you. I have had one-night stands before, but never one as amazing as that. I couldn’t be happier that you’re the one who showed up here tonight.” She blushes to her roots.
“Okay, I’ll try to relax and forget about my momentary sluttiness. And, I needed to get out of the apartment and have a relaxing evening, so I didn’t want to cancel. I was going crazy looking at the walls of my apartment.”
“Okay, you can tell me all about it after you decide what you’d like to drink. Pierre will be here any second to get your order. Here’s the wine list. I didn’t know what you like so I didn’t go ahead and place your order.”
“I’m usually a merlot girl, but I’m thinking Riesling sounds nice tonight.”
This might be a woman worth waiting on. I sit back in my chair and take her in as she browses the list. Her heart-shaped face and slightly pointed nose give her an aristocratic look, but not a snooty one. My fingers itch to reach across the table and stroke her cheek, which I know for a fact is soft and smooth.
Pierre returns as if on cue, takes her order and reviews the specials for the evening. Then he leaves us to make our decisions. My heart is pounding in my chest harder than usual. I can’t get over my luck this time. Not only is this woman beautiful, but I know our chemistry in bed is outstanding. Summer and Mike both insist we are a great match intellectually, so there is more to look forward to. I haven’t been this happily surprised in a long time and it feels good. So good in fact that I’m probably grinning like a loon. I hope I don’t come off as too goofy.
We pull out the menus and discuss the choices, and I find out she prefers white meat to red and will probably go for the pork chop rather than the big juicy steak I’ll be getting. About that time, a sound like loud crickets chirping comes from her purse. My face must reflect my confusion because she laughs a little and explains, “It’s my phone. I must have gotten a text message. I forgot to turn the volume off when I came inside.”
I nod and watch as she reaches down, reviews the text and sets it back into her bag. Pierre returns and in the middle of ordering, the crickets chirp again. I thought she turned that thing off. She ignores it until she finishes her order.
Once Pierre steps away she pulls the phone out again and this time starts typing. While she’s typing, it goes off again, annoying the customers at the table directly next to us, which I know for a fact because they’re all glaring daggers at us now. “Excuse me. I can’t ignore this one. I’m going to go outside and call this person so the chirping will stop. I apologize.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline in surprise. We haven’t really started conversation yet and I’ve already waited this long for her to get here. I’m a little thrown that she doesn’t turn off her phone and tackle that when the date is over. She steps outside and I can see her through the large windows along the front of the building, talking and pacing the sidewalk while gesturing wildly with one hand as the other grips the phone. Whatever is going on must be a big deal because she’s really upset. Maybe this really is important. I try to settle in and let her take care of whatever it is so we can resume our date.
Fifteen minutes and two more stops by the table from Pierre and she’s still outside. Unless someone is dead or dying, I don’t think anything is important enough to leave someone sitting at a table waiting for you for that long. I’m an understanding guy, but this is excessive. If I wanted to eat alone, I could have stayed at a hotel and eaten room service in my underwear tonight. Let’s not even mention the 45 minutes I waited before she arrived.
Finally, she hangs up the call. I observe as she takes a moment to stand up straight, throw her shoulders back and get herself together before she returns to our table. She’s only there long enough to apologize when her phone actually rings loud enough to disturb everyone around us this time. She glances at the caller ID and then up at me with a grimace. “I’m so sorry. I have to take this.”
Without a chance for me to respond, she’s out of her seat and striding back out the door. It’s a repeat of the first phone call, more gesturing, more pacing and obvious discontent. The longer I sit here, the more agitated my leg bounces under the table and my jaw clenches. This woman might be beautiful and capable of the best sex of my life but she’s not thoughtful or aware of anyone other than herself. When our meal arrives, she’s still on her
phone. I wait five minutes before I give up and cut into my steak, which makes me uncomfortable, but for the price I’m paying for this meal, I plan to enjoy it at least partially warm. My parents, specifically my mother, instilled manners in me that I have a difficult time disregarding, but I feel Simone hasn’t shown me any manners in return so it’s not that big of a deal.
A few more minutes go by and she finally comes in and sits down.
“I’m sorry about that,” she says rather nonchalantly while she’s placing her napkin in her lap. When she glances up to see most of my steak gone, she pauses. “You’re almost done?”
I nod and continue to chew. It’s rude to talk with food in your mouth, but also, if I speak, I don’t think my tone will be date-friendly.
“Wow,” she grumbles under her breath, sounding a little irritated.
After I take another swallow of the beer in front of me, I look over at her and respond. “You were gone a long time. Food was getting cold.” Pausing, I wait to see what her physical reaction is to my words. I’m pretty damn good at reading people and I watch as her lips thin.
“It was an important call.”
I wait for her to elaborate, to give me some kind of explanation of her rude behavior. Instead what I get is a silent pissed-off woman stewing in her chair.
“Do you want to talk about the call?” I ask, hoping that her explanation will seem good enough to disregard her impoliteness all night.
A clipped “no,” is all she says and she continues to eat. Cutting into her thick, juicy pork chop like she’s trying to kill it all over again is a little scary too.
I’m not a fan of rudeness, I’m not a fan of being blown off, and I’m really not a fan of lack of communication. This is one of the worst dates I’ve ever been on and I’ve been on some pretty shitty ones. With her being a novelist, I thought she’d be more interested in conversation, but so far all I’ve gotten is attitude and dead air, even though it’s been me who’s had to wait forever on her.