This is Not a Double Date

by Grace Risata

  “My name is Andi Cartwright, I’m thirty years old, I love walks on the beach, animals, pancakes, and I’m currently employed at my dream job.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s your dream job?” he asked with curiosity. “Let me guess…you work at a zoo caring for elephants? Am I close? Tigers?”

  “No! Nothing so dangerous.”

  “Hmm. You’re a chef at a five star restaurant?”

  “Not even close. One last guess…make it a good one, Roman.”

  The man stared deeply into my eyes as though legitimately trying to decipher what career path I’d chosen.

  “You work somewhere quiet, away from people. Somewhere you can lose yourself in a book while doing important research. You’re in the medical field…developing cures for diseases. Am I right?”

  I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. He was eerily correct about the first part but veered off course at the end.

  “I work in the Egypt gallery at the Penn Museum. I have a master’s degree in ancient civilizations. So…I guess I actually do work somewhere quiet with my head buried in a book. Good guess.”

  At the mention of my job, Roman’s face took on a look of sudden sadness.

  “I always wanted to go there when I was a kid,” he confessed. “They had a wing dedicated to life-sized dinosaur replicas. I never made it though. I missed school on the day of our class fieldtrip and that was the end of that. But I think it’s pretty cool that you work in such an amazing place.”

  I nodded my head with a smile. Normally once I start talking about my job, men tend to zone out and find it completely boring. For someone as gorgeous as Roman to actually appreciate what I do for a living…well…it boggles the mind.

  “Wait a minute,” Tyler declared rather loudly. “Did I just hear Andi say that she works at the Penn Museum? I can’t turn on the television without seeing one of those commercials about the rare crown jewel exhibit coming in a few weeks.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that, too,” Roman commented, nodding his head.

  “Isn’t that the craziest coincidence, Roman?” Tyler asked while speaking very slowly as though talking to a moron. “All that fuss about the famous crown jewels of Europe that have been garnering so much attention lately… and that’s where Andi works.”

  “I don’t work in that department, so I’m not actually involved with them at all—” I began to explain before being ignored entirely when Tyler continued to talk over me.

  “It’s definitely impressive,” he insisted, removing his arm from Cara’s shoulder to focus solely on me. “Tell us more about your job, Andi. What exactly do you do at the museum? I’m sure employees get to see the exhibit before the general public. I’ll bet that’s a once in a lifetime experience. I can’t imagine the royal tiaras get to tour Pennsylvania all that often.”

  “It’s just jewelry,” Cara snapped in frustration. “Why do you suddenly care about the stuff? I work with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies all day, every day.”

  “I know, babe,” Tyler soothed. “We talk about your job all the time because I love to hear what goes on in your life. But you work with new jewelry that’s fresh and doesn’t have a history of belonging to kings and queens and other important people. I’m just trying to get to know your friend better. I see a future with you and I want your friends to like me. Don’t you want that, too?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled, snuggling up to him to indicate that all was forgiven. “I’m very proud of Andi and her work with mummies.”

  Please. Every time I try to tell her anything about an ancient civilization, she listens for two minutes and then changes the subject. I’ve long since given up trying to share my passion with her. That’s just it…it was my passion and not hers. Although I was treated to endless stories about her job and co-workers. I guess I just had more patience than she did. It had always been that way.

  Since all eyes were on me, I gave a brief summary of my job.

  “I work specifically with the Ancient Egypt exhibit so I won’t come into contact with the crown jewels. There’s a separate department that handles the traveling objects that are only on display temporarily. You wouldn’t believe how much prep work is involved with bringing them to the museum. The cost to keep such priceless treasures safe and protected is pretty steep.”

  The waitress chose that moment to come and collect our dirty dishes. Once she walked away, Cara stood up and informed the men that we needed to freshen up in the ladies’ room.

  I know she was eager to have some ‘girl’s only’ time and get my opinion of her new boyfriend. I was also interested on her take of the evening and how well she thought things were going…

  Chapter Four

  Andi

  Not even bothering to wait until the bathroom door fully closed, Cara started freaking out.

  “Holy shit, Andi! I think Roman likes you! Do you see the way he’s hanging on your every word? And what’s up with all that hand holding in the car on the way here? I’m so proud of you. You’re flirting like a total pro!”

  “I’m not flirting at all,” I insisted, making my way to a private stall so she wouldn’t see the blush creep into my cheeks. “I’m simply having a normal conversation with another person while you and Tyler paw at each other like inmates just released from prison that are making up for lost time. Damn!”

  “Oh no you don’t! Don’t turn this around on me. We’re discussing you and the hot guy sharing your pizza. Tyler is beyond gorgeous, but Roman definitely gives him a run for his money. It’s like we’re a table full of models!”

  “Except for me!”

  Even though a wall separated us, I could still imagine Cara rolling her eyes in disgust. I knew a lecture was imminent.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to be nicer to yourself? You’re an amazing person with a lot to offer. Self-love comes before anything else.”

  “Self-love sounds a lot like masturbation,” I admitted, finishing up my business and exiting the stall.

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled devilishly.

  “Well, I suppose they’re one and the same. If you don’t know how to pleasure yourself, you sure as hell won’t know how to show a man what you like.”

  “Thank you, Miss Sex Expert. Any other priceless advice?”

  “Normally I would have tips on how to get Roman eating out of the palm of your hand. However, you seem to be doing perfectly fine on your own. I’m also an expert at body language, and I can honestly say that he’s hooked.”

  “Shut up,” I insisted. “But really…seriously…what makes you say that?”

  Yes, I was fishing for proof that he actually might think of me in a romantic way. Cara was nothing if not direct, and I knew she wouldn’t encourage me if there was no hope. My friend was a realist, which is something I admired about her.

  “One huge example would be the way he behaves,” she offered. “Is he avoiding eye contact with you in order to gaze around the restaurant and look at other people? Does he keep his head down while paying attention only to his food? No. He’s engrossed in conversation with you. But he’s not just listening to what you have to say, is he? He’s asking questions and keeping up his end of the discussion. Most importantly, he smiles when you say something that amuses him.”

  “How did you even notice all this? You’ve been busy with Tyler the whole night.”

  “No, actually, I haven’t. You’ve been so caught up with Roman that you didn’t see us watching you. Tyler nudged me and nodded his head at you guys. He admitted that his cousin never, ever behaves that way.”

  “What way is that?”

  “Normal! That’s why he made such a big deal about warning me ahead of time that this outing was not a double date. I guess Roman is a bit of a social misfit and he doesn’t relate well with others. I don’t know if I believe that, though. I mean he seems fine to me. I bet you could bounce a quarter off his abs,” she remarked dreamily. “You seriously need to fuck him, Andi.”

  “Calm down!
I’m not banging a total stranger, no matter how hot he is. Besides, you don’t know that he’s sporting a muscular six pack under that t-shirt. Maybe he’s lumpy?”

  “The only place he’s lumpy is between his legs….did you see the bulge in his pants? I bet the guy is packing major heat. Throw caution to the wind and take him for a ride!”

  “You’re horrible. We better get back out there before they think we’re dead.”

  “Please. They know women take time to freshen up.”

  Cara applied another layer of lipstick, combed her hair, and then smiled at her reflection. She reached into her purse and took out a tin of breath mints, making sure to share with me.

  “You never know, Andi. You might get lucky with Roman tonight.”

  I highly doubted that, but I took a mint anyway. Just in case.

  We stumbled upon an odd situation after leaving the restroom and making our way back to the table. Tyler and his cousin seemed to be taking part in a heated debate. As we got close enough to make out their words, I could hear Cara’s boyfriend say, “Plans change, be flexible, and don’t fuck this up. If there’s a bigger fish in the pond, you throw back the minnow and cast your line again.”

  “I’m not the one that catches the fish,” Roman insisted, voice laden with anger.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Cara asked in confusion. “I didn’t know you were an angler, Tyler.”

  His face instantly went from serious to smiling in a matter of seconds.

  “I don’t fish, babe. We were talking about something else entirely. Are you ready to go rock out to some world class music?”

  Tyler stood, put his arm around Cara, and led her back to the car. I turned my attention to Roman, but he seemed to be a million miles away. Staring after his cousin while shaking his head, the man made no move to leave.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” he replied cryptically. “Everything will be fine as long as I do what I’m told, right? Just a cog in the wheel.”

  Clearly a lot happened during our short trip to the bathroom.

  After a few more minutes, Tyler beeped the horn and Roman got up with a sigh.

  “Duty calls, Andi. Let’s go listen to some death metal.”

  As if things hadn’t gotten awkward enough, Roman refused to utter one single word once we were on the road and headed to the music festival. Tyler attempted to make small talk and asked his cousin something about getting his truck fixed, but Roman acted as though he couldn’t hear him over the car radio and turned his attention back to staring out the window.

  Shit.

  The evening was only half over and I had no desire to get stuck with a grumpy companion while Tyler rammed his tongue down Cara’s throat for the entire concert. No thank you.

  “You owe me,” I mumbled quietly, not too far from Roman’s ear.

  He froze, cocked his head, and finally turned around.

  “I owe you what?” he asked, body tense, unsure of my meaning.

  “I told you what I do for a living, but you never told me your job. I’m not just freely giving information and not getting any back. That doesn’t seem very fair.”

  That was my one and only attempt to break the ice. Fingers crossed it’ll work.

  “Nothing as interesting as you,” he replied with a sad smile. “I work for the county highway department. I’m part of a crew that maintains roads, plows snow, and makes sure you get to and from work without a sinkhole swallowing your car.”

  “That’s very important. I have no desire to get sucked into a volcanic pit of fiery lava or end up falling straight through to China.”

  “I think you’d end up in Russia, actually. Your world geography kind of sucks.”

  “Pardon me, Mr. Human Globe. The second I get home, I’m going to double check that.”

  “No one has ever, in my entire life, referred to me as a Human Globe,” he admitted in amusement. “That’s definitely a first.”

  “Ooh, now we’re getting somewhere. Is there another nickname you’d like to share?”

  He instantly froze and shook his head, turning his attention back to the window. Just when I think I’m taking one step forward with this guy, I really take two steps back. I give up.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I guess no one gives themselves a nickname, so whatever you have must not be something you like. I’ll quit asking stupid questions and leave you alone.”

  I pulled out my phone with the intention of checking the time to see how long I had left to suffer, but I paused when Roman put his hand on my arm.

  “I’m the one who owes you an apology, Andi. You’ve been nothing but polite to me this whole night. I shouldn’t take my attitude out on you. You’re not the only one that had other plans but instead got forced to tag along this evening.”

  “Oh. I see. You have a girlfriend and you’re supposed to be out with her tonight,” I theorized, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. It was disappointment. Of course someone like Roman would have weekend plans with his special lady. He was far too handsome to be alone on a Saturday night.

  “Nope,” he replied. “Not even close. My radiator started leaking coolant and I planned to fix it tonight. I’m pretty good with cars, but I’ve never done that job before and I don’t know how long it’s going to take. It should only be a couple hours, but I might find more stuff that needs attention. The truck is pretty old and has a lot of miles on it. If it’s not up and running by Monday morning, I’m not getting to work.”

  Does that mean he’s single? Is there a way to ask that without being obvious about my motives? Hell, no.

  “I don’t know anything about cars,” I admitted. “Otherwise I’d give you pointers. If you need a map of the pyramids in order to locate a certain tomb, then I’m your girl. Sadly, my real world skills don’t amount to much, but I’m a pro at ancient civilizations.”

  “I’ll definitely keep that in mind if I need to perform any secret rituals involving dead chicks and bringing them back to life. Just don’t call up any scary demons like that guy in the mummy movie that runs around with half his face rotting off.”

  “I think he was a high priest and not a demon,” I explained. “I haven’t watched that movie in a long time. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I like it too. What else is on your ‘all time favorites’ list?”

  We continued to discuss cinematic flops and brilliant masterpieces until we reached our destination at Rage Fest. As soon as I saw the actual location, I waited for the complaining to start.

  “Are you kidding me?” Cara screeched in horror. “We’re in the middle of a dirty farm field! It rained this morning and I’m going to be walking in a solid mud pit in four inch stiletto heels! This is not happening!”

  Tyler began to pacify his girlfriend by promising to buy her a new pair of boots if hers got ruined beyond repair. Meanwhile Roman thoughtfully turned to me and asked about my footwear.

  “These are just a cheap pair of crappy sandals. I’ve had them forever so it won’t be the end of the world if tonight is their last hurrah.”

  He smiled and offered, “Then I guess we should give them a good send off.”

  Once we got out of the car, Tyler took Cara’s arm and made sure she didn’t fall flat on her face. It actually wasn’t very far of a trek to the festival itself. Within about five minutes we were smack dab in the middle of it all. Lighted tents offering food, t-shirts, and other band merchandise littered the grounds. I noticed a row of port-a-potties and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that I’d taken the time to use the clean restaurant toilet before we got here. I also saw a huge stage with a crowd of people head-banging in a mosh pit. To say the noise level was deafening, would be an understatement.

  “What kind of band is this?” Cara yelled at Tyler, raising her voice to be heard over the loud and angry guitar riffs. “Your friend doesn’t play this type of music, does he?”

  Unable to conceal his anno
yance, Tyler pointed to one of several signs proclaiming the event to be ‘Rage Fest.’

  “This is death metal, babe. It’s loud, angry, and full of emotion. You’ll come to love it after awhile. Trust me.”

  Or not. Cara liked country music, Adele, and anything completely on the opposite end of the spectrum from death metal. This wasn’t going to go well at all. Yes, it would be amusing as hell, but still. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

  In an effort to make things go a bit more smoothly, I pulled Cara off to the side and asked her if she had any tissues in her purse.

  “Are you coming down with a cold?” she asked in horror, her fear of germs making itself known.

  “Trust me, babe,” I promised with a lop-sided grin.

  Taking the tissue and ripping it into smaller pieces, I rolled one into an ear plug and firmly inserted it in place. Once I had both ears covered, the noise level was instantly bearable. I made two more for Cara and she happily popped them in with a look of extreme gratitude. Before I could shove the unused tissue in my pocket, a tan hand reached out to take it.

  “Good idea,” Roman complimented, making his own set of ear plugs.

  “You people are old as fuck,” Tyler lamented. “What’s the point of Rage Fest if you’re not going to let the music blast your soul to pieces? Hurry up and let’s get closer. My buddy’s band goes on in about five minutes.”

  “Get closer?” Cara questioned, showing a bit of excitement. “You mean we’re going to a private VIP Section to watch the band? Now you’re speaking my language. It’s about time.”

  My friend looked around hopefully for any sign of a velvet rope, plush bench seat, or bottle service. Alas, none were to be found.

  “No, babe. There’s no VIP Section. We just slowly creep our way to the front. Follow me and I’ll get you to the stage. You’ve never seen my tough side…I can be intimidating when I want. The crowd will part and let us through.”

  “Hell, no,” she insisted vehemently. “I’m not shoving my way into a throng of sweaty strangers to get elbowed, jostled, and probably have my ass grabbed by any number of degenerates. I’ll wait off to the side where it’s safe.”