I sigh as I look out at the Mississippi River off in the distance. On the bright side, this date is better than last night’s, and I only have one more left. I’m dreading it but excited to get this all over with so I can go win my new job. My phone buzzes again, and I laugh at Izzy’s text.
Izzy:
Need a rescue? I’ve been practicing ;)
Me:
No, I’m about to leave.
“Ready?” Zach asks, walking back up to the table, and I offer him a small smile as I stand and grab my bag. We’re quiet as he walks me outside, and I stop in front of the restaurant, careful not to let him follow me to my car.
“Thank you for dinner, Zach. I had a nice time.” Normally, I would feel bad about lying, but after last night’s date and tonight, I’m really starting to be okay with it.
“Yeah, me, too. You’re a really great listener.” His gaze drops to my lips, and my whole body sparks in alarm. Oh, please don’t try to kiss me right now. He doesn’t take his eyes off my lips as he moves in, and at the last second, I turn, giving him my cheek instead. His lips brush against my skin, and I feel nothing. It could be a kiss from my grandmother from the lack of spark. When he pulls back again, he smiles widely at me.
“I’d love to do this again,” he says, and I give him a tight smile.
“Call me,” I reply, knowing damn well that I never gave him my number but I hope it takes him a little while to realize that so I can get out of here. He nods, and I turn, walking away from him quickly but not so quickly that he realizes I’m trying to flee from him. Once I get to my car, I unlock the door, and sink into the seat, letting out a heavy breath. One more date and then I can put this whole thing behind me.
You can do this, I remind myself as I start the car and head back home, looking forward to my big comfy couch and some trashy TV.
Chapter Three
Alison
I don’t feel like myself.
I step out of my car, hand my keys to the valet and look down at my red dress, wondering if it’s nice enough for this place. One look at the opulent restaurant in front of me and I know I’m severely out of my element. Peeking inside, I’m assaulted by a massive amount of gold and it’s leaning toward tacky. It looks like Liberace threw up in here. I’d much rather be at a little hole in the wall place than here. Give me a pair of jeans and a good steak and I’m good to go. My heels clink against the stone stairs that have got to be marble as I walk up to the grand double door entrance. It’s like an out of body experience as I step inside and look to my left where a large seating area is. It’s like that scene from Pretty Woman and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as they judge me.
I pull up the dating website on my phone and go through my date’s information one last time, trying to commit it to memory so I don’t accidentally call him Troy or Zach. I’m beyond thrilled that this is the last date but I have no idea how I’m going to write this article. A part of me just wants to give Mr. Klein what he wants and write that these past three days were so great, but the other part of me really, really wants to march into his office, tell him exactly where he can shove it in extreme detail, and storm out of the office with my head held high. Whatever I do, at least I won’t have to do this anymore. My weekends can go back to me lounging on my couch in sweatpants.
Izzy will probably throw a fit.
She’s so excited that she thinks I’m dating again. For the past three days, she’s been sending me pictures of guys that she thinks I’ll like, and I’m a little concerned that they’ve all come from her reject pile. Izzy may choose to drown her pain in between the sheets with various men but I do not. Not that I’m in pain, I just don’t date. Then again, maybe it’s time that I open myself up to the possibility again. At least, allow someone the opportunity to try and get close to me. Since the whole Adam debacle, it’s like I’ve had a huge “Closed for Business” sign around my neck and guys usually don’t even try.
“Alison James,” a hostess calls from the desk in the lobby, and I look up. She smiles and motions for me to follow her. Standing, I reread over the info one last time. His name is Blake, he’s thirty-six, and works as a real estate agent. I take a deep breath and nod, committing it to memory. As I follow her through the dining room, my nerves spike. Quiet murmurs of private conversations buzz around me, only interrupted by the sound of silverware gently clinking against plates, and I only feel more self-conscious. The people here are wealthy. One look in the parking lot will tell you that, and while I do okay for myself, I don’t come anywhere near this level of money. Not that I really want to either. Looking around the dining room, everyone looks so uptight.
The hostess turns and starts heading toward a more private part of the restaurant, and I can’t help but wonder how much it costs a guy to reserve a table back here. It can’t be cheap. We approach one of the tables, and there is a man already waiting there with his back to me. I take a deep breath just as the hostess stops at the chair directly across from him and motions for me to sit.
Just don’t let him be worse than date number one.
“Alison James, sir,” the hostess says, giving him a polite smile, and he stands, turning toward me. He grins and winks before turning to the hostess and slipping her a fifty. Fifty bucks just for seating me? I knew this place was way out of my league.
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he says, smacking her on the ass as she walks by us, and I immediately want to spin around and follow her out. Take me with you, a little voice in my head screams like she’s violating girl code by leaving me here. Jesus. I mean, who the hell smacks another woman’s ass when he’s on a date? He turns his attention to me, and I barely restrain myself from taking a step back.
“And, Ali, so nice to finally meet you, Babe. I have to say, your pictures don’t do you justice.” His brown eyes draw a line down my body, and he makes no effort to hide the fact that he’s inspecting every part of me. How much longer do I have to be here? I shift under his gaze and look at my watch, the time moving painfully slow already.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I force out, plastering a professional smile on my face that honestly hurts a little. He flashes me a glimpse of his overly bleached smile and brushes his blond hair back before motioning to my chair and sitting back down in his own. Seriously? He’s not even going to pull my chair out for me?
“Please, have a seat.” He doesn’t even bother to look at me when he says it, his gaze glued to his phone, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath before sitting down in my chair and picking up the menu. Fuck this. If he wants to bring me to this place and flash his money around, I’m going to order the most expensive thing on the damn menu.
A waitress appears and I order wine, knowing damn well that I’m going to need it, and when she turns to leave, I want to grab her by the wrist and beg her to stay. I’ll even cry if I have to. Instead, I watch her walk away and look back at my date, just knowing that this is going to be truly awful. His eyes are still on the waitress’s ass, and I have to wait until she’s completely out of view before he looks back to me, smiling. It feels so fake.