As he sang on, his voice turned harsher, angrier. His jaw clenched into a hard line that I could see from our seats.
I watch you watching me,
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I can’t hide, and so I’ll stay.
An empty heart,
Yeah, an empty bottle.
That’s all I’ll ever be.
My cell buzzed in my purse. Jessica. Right. But I realized that I didn’t want to go, not in the middle of this. I turned off the phone and looked back up at the stage. The man was looking straight at me. I blushed and stuffed my phone back into my purse.
His face softened, but he never stopped looking at me. I brushed my hair away from my face and shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Did I have mascara smudged on my face or something? Why was he looking at me so intently?
I watch you watching me,
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I turned my eyes down, staring intently at his fingers as he played the piano. He had hands that spanned an octave, his strong fingers setting down the unadorned notes easily. His body was still, the only motion in his hands. The lines of his suit were stark, as though he was a store mannequin instead of a person. But his fingertips—
His fingertips caressed the keys.
When I looked back up, he was still staring straight at me. He finished the song the same way, his light blue eyes fixed on mine from behind his black mask. There was a smattering of applause, but he didn’t seem to hear it. He stepped away from the piano, finally wresting his eyes away from me, and headed back to the coffee bar. I watched him slide through the crowd and up to the barista. He pulled out a flask from his suit pocket and tipped it into his coffee.
Irish coffee. Maybe he was Irish after all.
“Well, that was interesting!” Daniel’s voice brought me back to reality. “Somewhat pedestrian compared to the other acts, but you can never tell with a show like this. I think I need a breath of air. Shall we?”
Yes, air. I could use some fresh air. I felt like the room was closing in on me. I stood up and Daniel pulled the chair out from behind me quickly, waving me toward the door. I glanced back, but the man in the suit and mask was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Two
“So, my place is just around the corner,” Daniel said, outside the coffee shop. He put one arm around me awkwardly. On the sidewalk, a group of hipsters were smoking clove cigarettes. One of them turned to glance at us.
“Right,” I said, extricating myself from his arm. “Um, I should really get home. I have a lot of work to do for tomorrow.”
“Jessica told me you were a workaholic.” His glasses slipped down and he pushed them back up onto his nose, his eyes glinting. “She said I should make sure you have some fun tonight.”
“Did she really?” I was going to kill her.
Daniel smiled, tilting his head. He took my arms and bent to kiss me, and I ducked away. One hand stayed clamped on my arm, though.
“Sorry,” I said. “I—uh—I’m not really feeling it.”
He frowned. His fingers were clammy against my skin.
“Not feeling what?”
“You. You and me. Us. Not feeling it.”
The frown lines grew deeper.
“I took you here because I thought you would appreciate a deeper kind of art,” he said, irritation in his voice.
“The art was great,” I said. “Loved the show. I just don’t think—”
“That’s the problem with women today! They don’t think!” He scowled at me. “How can you rebuff me like this after such a wonderful and stimulating evening?”
I stared at him, agog. Was this his way of trying to get into my pants?
“Look, I don’t know what your definition of wonderful is,” I said, “but if it involves that much peanut butter on a naked man, then I think we have different concepts of wonderful.”
He scoffed.
“You are devoid of any subtler understanding of romance.”
“Yes,” I said, tugging my arm out of his grip. “You’re exactly right. I don’t understand romance. That’s the problem.”
“Well, I’m trying to fix that!” he said, exasperated. He bent to kiss me again, and again I ducked away.
“Stop it!” I said, holding up my hands in front of me.
“I don’t understand!” he shouted.
“What don’t you understand?!” I shouted back, feeling utterly silly. All of the clove-smoking hipsters were now looking at us while pretending not to be interested.
“Jessica said you were desperate! And if you don’t think I’m up to par—”
“Wait, what? What did she say?”
He blew a breath out between his teeth.
“She said you were desperate to find a good guy. And I am a good guy. More than good! One: I’m sensitive. Two: I’m smart. Three: I have a stable job—”
He was ticking off the bullet points on his fingers.
“No. Daniel. Stop.”
He stopped.
“I think you’d better go home now,” I said carefully.
“And you don’t want to come with me?”
I was too speechless to even answer him. I shook my head. No. No way.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll remember this. I have a nearly-perfect memory, you know!”
With that, he spun on his heel and strode away. Before he had taken two steps, he turned back.
“I left my coat in there,” he said angrily. He blustered back into the coffee shop and then out again, huffing past me with his coat tails flapping behind him.
I leaned back against the window of the cafe and closed my eyes wearily, breathing in and out. At least I’d survived a date. That was a first step towards finding a guy I could stand to date. But I was never letting Jessica set me up again.
“Nickel for your thoughts.”
I opened my eyes. The man who’d sung the last song was standing next to me, leaning casually against the wall. He was still wearing his mask. I realized that his eyes were more of a blue-green than pure blue. They sparkled as he looked at me, only a couple of feet away.
“You’re overpaying,” I said, recomposing myself. “Most thoughts are only worth a penny, I’ve heard.”
“Inflation’s a bitch,” he said. There was an accent, hidden only shallowly underneath his words. “But I think you’re worth it.”
Blood rose to my face, and even though it was a cool spring evening, I felt hot. Who was this guy? He was keeping his distance between us, but that was somehow worse, as though the tension between us snapped through the air.
“I don’t know,” I said. “My thoughts are pretty dark right now.”
“I understand that. It’s desperately hard to find a good guy.”
“You heard all that?” I put my hand on my forehead and shook my head. “Oh, God.”
“Let me give you my credentials,” the man said. He was grinning behind his mask. I couldn’t stop looking into his eyes. They crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “One: I’m an insensitive boor. Two: I’m probably dumber than you. Three, I have a superficial, unsatisfying career—”