I nod. “I'll be a real journalist."
"You're going to do great."
There are all these pauses and stops in our conversation. It's like we're both hesitant, uncertain.
I ask him about himself, and he tells me about working long hours, taking on new clients. No specific details, just the amount of work.
And after we catch up, there's still this hesitation. It doesn't feel exactly like it did back in the hotel room where we gushed and we talked for hours into the night.
Something is different, and it's because we've both hurt each other. I want to apologize. Again. For real.
He deserves so much more than a simple thank you. He needs to know that he had changed my life. But I also want to tell him that I was angry and why I was angry, and ask him why he had kept it a secret, but for some reason I can't do any of this.
"Are you dating anyone?" Dante asks out of the blue.
"No.” I shake my head.
"Good. Do you want to go on a date with me?"
I smile, nod, and suddenly everything that seemed so complicated is no longer.
That evening I blow Allison off. Her words, not mine.
I get ready for my date and find a nice sundress and flip-flops and let my hair go wild.
The humidity has really kicked in, and though it's normally sort of limp and bland, suddenly it has insane volume. I put on red lipstick, not my usual fare, but this is an unusual situation.
"You know that you're just abandoning me, right? I mean, you just met this guy and you already have a date with him. That's really unfair.” Allison looks around the room. "You were gone this whole time at the beach."
"I invited you to the beach," I point out, "so you could have come."
"Whatever.” She rolls her eyes.
"Okay, you know that it's not some guy," I say, lining my eyes and putting some mascara on my lashes. "This is Dante we're talking about, this is the guy that I've been thinking about for months."
"Yeah, the guy that you had a huge fight with and the guy who didn't return your calls.”
“That woman was his sister-in-law and the way he asked me out,” I say, turning around, still holding the mascara wand in my hand and the bottle in the other. “It was so romantic.”
Allison exhales. "Okay, you know that I'm a sucker for a good love story as much as the next woman, but I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt.”
“You mean the guy who secretly paid for my mom's medical treatment and saved her life, you're afraid he's going to be the one who's going to break my heart?” I challenge her.
“Of course. What if he’s not such a nice guy? Why did he do that in the first place? You were strangers.”
She's echoing my thoughts, but I can’t go there.
Not now.
I look at myself in the mirror and I like the woman who looks back. Yes, I've gained some weight and I could be thinner and firmer, but the dress is flattering and attractive and most importantly, it makes me feel confident.
Besides, Dante has always found me incredibly sexy and that has added a measurable boost to my self-esteem.
"You look great," Allison approves. "Should I wait up?"
"I'll text you," I say. "No matter what happens, I'll keep you updated."
I walk out and I see his car parked in front of the gate.
I didn't give him the code because it's an Airbnb and we were explicitly told not to give it out.
So, he just waits there, sitting on the hood like a sixteen-year-old kid in some '80s movie. Dressed in slacks and a casual T-shirt that hugs his toned body in all the right ways, he is incredibly hot.
Looking him up and down, I have to restrain myself from licking my lips and kissing him right here.
"You look beautiful…stunning,” Dante says. He leans close to me and it feels like he’s going in for a kiss, but he grazes my cheek instead ever so lightly.
"I don't know how to do this," I say when he opens the door for me.
"What are you talking about?"
He pulls out of the driveway and heads somewhere in the distance.
"I don't know how to go on a date with you. I mean, we have done so much. It’s like we fast forwarded past all of this and now we're going on a first date, so it’s all very strange."
"In a good way I hope," Dante says.
I nod. "Yeah, actually in a very good way.”
We drive for awhile without saying a word. There are few streetlights around here and the road is winding, eventually leading to an inn with a thatched roof.
"What's this?" I ask.
"It's a restaurant, seafood but it's amazing."
“It looks so cozy," I say, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.
"Come on, you're not going to regret it.” He opens the door for me, takes my hand, and leads me inside.
It looks like a bed and breakfast. The front desk attendant with incredible warmth and professionalism welcomes us, showing us to the back.
We get a table near the window looking out onto the sand and the dark sea with the nearest couple sitting half a restaurant away. Candlelight, low voices, and the quiet sound of the violin in the distance creates an incredibly romantic and secluded atmosphere. The perfect place for a first date with someone you already know well.
Dante reaches out his hand to touch me. I pull my hand out of my lap and he intertwines his fingers with mine.
"I've been wanting to do this for a long time,” he says, gazing into my eyes.
"Yeah, me, too," I say.
"I'm sorry that I lied to you. It was incredibly stupid and selfish."
"Selfish?" I ask. "No, it was stupid maybe, but it was the opposite of selfish. You saved my mom's life and you did it in secret. I'm just sorry that I got so upset."
"Let's just forget about it and start new."
"I'd like that," I say.
When the menu arrives, Dante orders us some wine that I've never heard of, which isn’t saying much since he could order the cheapest wine on the menu and I wouldn't know the difference. When I tell him this, he laughs.
"That's what I like about you," he says, "you're unassuming, unpretentious."
"I thought you would use this opportunity to teach me about wine."
"If you ask me, I can tell you, but I'm not going to be so presumptuous and self important to go around and mansplain stuff to you."
I laugh at his use of the word mansplain. "I'm not sure that applies here, but I appreciate the sentiment."
We both laugh.
When the bread arrives, I grab a roll trying to appease my anxiety. It's not that I'm not happy to be here, more than that.
It’s just when suddenly you're doing exactly what you've wanted and thought about for months, you start to question things, you get nervous.
While I let the bread melt in my mouth, I ask Dante about his life, his brother and his wife. We talk briefly about what happened at Central Park and he apologizes once again for not coming after me.
“I had a lot on my mind," he says.
“Like what?”
"I'm just having some issues with my work. It's hard to explain."