by Susan Hatler
Everyone around me suddenly started moving. Apparently Abby had instructed us to do something. I’d been paying zero attention, so I mimicked what other people were doing by commanding Chester to “sit” and then holding my hand up horizontally and telling him to “stay.”
It was an honest miracle that the mutt obeyed. For about two seconds anyway. Then he turned his head to the side, and started whining.
I stared at the pedigree pup, wondering what his problem was. Oh, great. He’d better not have to use the restroom. I’d seen the blue plastic bags attached to the handle of his leash, but I’d been hoping I’d never have to use them. “What, boy?”
He whined some more and then barked at me.
I cringed. Half an hour with the miniature male and already I wasn’t meeting his needs. If he weren’t attached to my leash, he’d probably ditch me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“He’s waiting for a treat.” Henry sounded amused as he broke a brown, bone-shaped biscuit in half and held it out for me between his fingertips. “Here . . .”
When had they handed out dog treats? Oh, right. While I’d been tormenting myself on Henry’s whereabouts last night even though we were clearly not compatible. I mean, how many questions do I have to ask before the guy indicates if he’s single or not? Not that it mattered since I had a date scheduled with a compatible man who, I might add, is up front about who he is and not dark and mysterious, with unforgettable dark pooled eyes . . .
“Thanks.” I coached myself not to ask outright what he’d been doing all night long (without me) because it might show I was interested and how would that look after I’d bragged about my date tonight?
“No worries.” Henry smiled, seeming unaware of his affect on me. “This should be good for his size.”
When I took the treat from him, our fingers brushed and my skin sizzled where we’d touched. Was that static electricity or . . . what?
I realized I was still holding my hand in the air and, uh, gaping at him. Not exactly sly there, Ellen. My cheeks went up in flames. See, I never had these problems using Detailed Dating. It was all behind the computer and . . . safe. Quickly, I turned back to Chester who was stomping his foot and staring at my hand with a starved expression. So impatient! “Here, boy.”
I tossed the treat at him. Instead of catching it in his mouth like I’d expected, the cookie hit his nose and then bounced toward the black lab sitting next to him. When the bone landed by Kenzie’s foot, growling ensued.
“Kenzie, heel.” Henry used a firm voice but instead of listening, as man’s best friend should, she opened jaws twice the size of Chester’s and engulfed the cookie.
Grrrr. Grrrr. Chester crouched—not a happy camper.
“Sorry.” I pulled Chester away from the treat-stealing dog since, let’s face it, if Kenzie grew a backbone she could easily pummel Rachel’s pup.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. My girl has no manners when it comes to dog biscuits.” He pulled out another treat and handed it to me. “I guess that’s why we’re here, right?”
Uh, no. I was here because I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving All Things Furry and never seeing this beautiful man again. When our fingers brushed, I had the urge to curl my hand into his. So not a good idea. “Thanks.”
This time I held the treat close to Chester’s mouth. He took it quickly and crunched it with a smug expression as his nemesis licked her lips and whined.
To avoid further embarrassment, I tried to pay attention the rest of class. My belly danced every time Henry made a joke or came close to me, and I found myself being playful back. I’d never felt comfortable enough to be silly in front of guys before, so why with Henry? Why did having fun with him feel so natural?
I had to keep reminding myself that I had a date tonight that I was supposed to be excited about.
****
When I dropped Chester off at Rachel’s apartment, she asked how class had gone. Even though I had the urge to tell my best friend everything, I stuck with, “Fine.”
What can I say? My unprompted feelings for Henry Holbrook III, who I still knew almost nothing about, were totally embarrassing. And my obsession over Henry’s unknown nocturnal activities? Pathetic. I couldn’t admit them to Rachel.
I received a raised eyebrow, but was grateful she left it at that.
So, I drove to Old Sacramento and parked on the third floor of the brick encased parking garage. As I walked into Wok N’ Roll at half-passed seven o’clock, I was determined to remember that compatibility (not uncertainty) was the key to a lasting relationship.
I immediately spotted Craig in the waiting area. He had a nice smile, looked as handsome as his online photo, and seemed genuinely happy to see me. All things to check off my list.
Standing, he greeted me with a handshake. “So good to finally meet you in person, Ellen.”
“Thanks. You, too
“Should we have the waiter seat us?” he said, politely.
“That sounds great.” I smiled, then watched appreciatively as he went up to the podium and had us escorted to a corner booth.
Craig was pleasant, polite, and a solid choice. Exactly what I was looking for. I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to be back in my comfort zone.
After browsing the menu, we ordered several dishes to split, and then I sat back in my seat. “I can’t wait to hear what you think of Chinese food. It’s hard to believe you’ve never tried it.”
He set his hands on the table, laced his fingers together, then met my gaze with a considerate expression. “I’m not as adventurous as I’d like to be when it comes to trying different cuisine. Which is not to say I’m close minded or not interested in other ethnicities.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that I tend to go to the same restaurants and order dependable items on the menu. Not because something else might not be good or even better, but because I won’t be disappointed. Does that make sense?”
I blinked. In all the dates I’d ever been on, I’d have to say that I’d never met a man that communicated this well. It was refreshing. “It makes a lot of sense. Thanks for sharing.”
He seemed relieved. “I’m glad you understand. I’ll admit my affinity for repetition has been a bit of a problem for me in the past, but it’s something I’ve recently come to realize is a flaw and I am working on it.”
“Um, okay.” My eyes widened and I had the sudden feeling I’d invaded his private therapy session. “So, we agree. Chinese is good. Trying new things can be . . . good.”
And conversation had taken a nosedive . . .
“It’s invigorating to talk to a woman who is empathetic.” He pulled out a little notepad from his pocket and crossed something off. “I feel that empathy is important in a relationship. Don’t you?”
“I think so. I mean, yes. I suppose . . .” Had he scratched the word “empathy” off a check list? I wanted to snag his pad and see what else he had on there.
The waiter brought our dishes to the table and Craig nodded and thanked him. I smiled and murmured an appreciative remark and then Craig drew another line across his pad.
So far Craig was an excellent communicator, had good manners, and apparently had some kind of list he was keeping to . . . what? Rate our date?
“Allow me.” He scooped servings of chow mein, kung pao chicken, and fried rice onto our plates. Then he placed a napkin in his lap, picked up his fork in lieu of the chopsticks, and took a tentative bite of his noodles. “Interesting texture. Different flavor, but all in all, very pleasing.”
“Hmm.” I stuffed a forkful of chow mein into my mouth, considered an evaluation of my own, and came up with nothing. It was Chinese food, after all. Not a work of art.
He swallowed and gestured with his fork. “What do you think?”
I’d never been to Wok N’ Roll before, but it tasted like normal Chinese food to me. “It’s good.”
“Okay.” He nodded, then moved his head back and forth as if in thought. “How would y
ou say it compares to other Chinese restaurants you’ve been to? Is this pretty average? Or exceptional, perhaps? If I were going to try another Chinese restaurant, would the chow mein taste similar to this one or does Wok N’ Roll have their own spin on the dish?”
“Come on, Craig. I’m a customer service rep, not a professional food critic.” I started to laugh, then realized he wasn’t joining in. Oops, cracking jokes must’ve carried over from doggy class and weren’t flying as well here.
“I know you’re not a food critic. You work for a software company.” His voice held a defensive tone. “But, I value your opinion and you certainly have more experience than I do this area.”
Why did chow mein have to be a serious topic? But, that should be fine. Right? I mean, he asked my opinion because he valued my thoughts. Even though he’s known me all of twenty minutes. Well, plus a month or so of email exchanges. And, wouldn’t most women find it gratifying to have a man communicate this much? I mean, how many times had my girlfriends and I complained that men never say what they’re thinking? And here Craig was actually doing it.
So, why was it so freaking annoying?
I set my fork down and leaned forward. “I’d say it’s average chow mein. It’s good, has all the right stuff, but I’ve had better.”
“Really? Where?” His notepad was in his hand again. “I’ll be sure to take you there next time.”
Next time? We weren’t even done with this time, but I gave him the name and directions to my favorite Chinese restaurant downtown. Then, I vowed to chill through the rest of the meal because he really was a nice guy.
At the end of the date, he walked me to my car and asked me out for Thursday. I accepted. So, the guy had a list. I did, too. And he was meeting all of my compatibility requirements, so what kind of hypocrite would I be if I didn’t go out with him a second time?
Still, something nagged at me and I couldn’t figure out what. I guess that’s why I went home, logged onto the Detailed Dating website and sent the following email to my second dating prospect:
To: lookn4luv
From: smrt4ever
Geoff, Judging by our emails over the past month, we sound very compatible. Would you like to meet for coffee tomorrow night? ~ Ellen (aka: smrt4ever)
Less than ten minutes later, I got the following reply:
To: smrt4ever
From: lookn4luv
Hi Ellen! Name the time and place. I’ll set a red rose on the table so you’ll be sure to recognize me. Looking forward to it. — Geoff
Me too, I’d written back. Wishing it was really true.
In my mind, what I was really wishing for was a date with Henry.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next evening, Chester and I walked into All Things Furry just before six. The place was packed, as usual. My eyes scanned the room until they landed on Henry’s. Even though I told myself he was all wrong for me, my tummy did a little dance.
Henry smiled and gestured to the chair next to him as if it were natural that we’d sit together.
I joined him, secretly thrilled he’d saved a seat for me. Kenzie hid behind Henry’s legs, but peeked out to look at me. “Hi, Kenzie.”
I reached my hand out slowly, but she ducked back under the chair. “It’s okay, girl.”
“Don’t take it personally.” He nudged my knee with his own. “The only way she’ll come to my grandpa is if he has food in his hand.”
Henry appeared exhausted again, but I jumped on the opportunity to learn more about him. “Do you visit your grandfather often?”
“We pop by several times a week.” He ran his hand under Kenzie’s muzzle. “See what he and Gran are up to.”
So sweet! My heart melted a little more. “You must be close.”
He nodded. “As close as we can get, since they raised me.”
The air felt heavy between us. “And your parents . . . ?”
He continued rubbing Kenzie as he spoke, “They died in a car crash when I was six.”
A chill ran through me. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks.” His gaze flicked to mine, his dark eyes stormy with emotion. “Do your parents live nearby?”
I’d gone from knowing nothing about Henry to discovering what was probably the biggest tragedy of his life. We’d sped from zero to sixty in under a minute and I didn’t know how to downshift, so I replied, “My mom lives about twenty minutes away in Land Park. My dad has been nonexistent since my college graduation. He wasn’t around much before that either.”
My chest ached, as it did any time I talked about my dad. One of the many reasons why I rarely did.
His gaze held mine, telling me that he understood the pain I felt. “You and your mom are close?”
“Too close.” I laughed. “She’s constantly causing me to go over my cell phone minutes. Guess I need to up my plan. I’ll add that to my To Do list.”
He winked at me. “Along with cleaning out your hairbrush.”
I loved his teasing. “My purse is sacred. It’s the one place I allow chaos in my life.” I leaned my shoulder into his jokingly. “Besides, Chester took care of that for me already, remember?”
“Yes.” His face grew serious. “I remember.”
Although the room was crowded with chatter, everything fell silent as if the two of us were alone with a physical cord pulling us together. In a few sentences, it felt like we’d shared everything. The feeling overwhelmed me.
“Evening, everyone!” Abby marched out in red velour sweats and her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders. “Great to see you all. Let’s hit the arena.”
Although Abby’s cheery voice rang throughout the room, Henry kept his gaze on mine. “Ready?”
It felt like a loaded question and I answered it honestly. “Not in the slightest.”
****
After class ended, Henry and I chatted outside about the pups and what they were learning (Kenzie coming out of her shell; Chester, not a thing). I had to tear myself away since I, uh, had a real date I was supposed to be on in a few minutes.
I rushed to drop Chester off so I wouldn’t be late meeting lookn4luv at the coffee shop. Geoff and I had emailed again a couple of times to clarify timing and how to recognize each other. Although I saw the red rose lying across a bistro table as agreed, the man sitting there wasn’t lookn4luv. It was a guy who could possibly be lookn4luv’s distant not-as-good-looking cousin, but why would he be here? Maybe Geoff couldn’t make it and sent his relative to tell me? Which would be pretty, you know, odd . . .
I approached the table slowly. “Hello?”
His head jerked up from his cell phone screen. “Wow! You’re even prettier in person, Ellen.”
My brows drew together in confusion. “And you are, who?”
“Geoff Bent.” He stood, shook my hand, then gestured for me to take a seat. “I know what you’re thinking, but let me explain. First, these are for you.”
Keeping my purse on my shoulder, I dropped into the wooden bistro chair as the man claiming to be Geoff handed me a dozen red roses. “Thanks, uh, Geoff.”
Due to the sadly hopeful look on his face, I accepted the bouquet even though it dawned on me that he’d falsified his photo.
“You’re welcome.” He flushed, bowed his head, then met my eyes. “The picture I posted on Detailed Dating is actually of me, I swear. I just used a photo editor to make myself look more how a woman would want me to.”
Okay, his admission tugged at my sympathetic side. It did. But, I wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “You’ve covered the way you think a date would want you to look, but how honest would she want you to be?”
He looked confused. “I don’t follow you.”
“There’s zero chance of this going anywhere. Any possibility went out the window when you put up that phony photo.” I watched his shoulders slump. “A good relationship can’t come out of deceit.”
His brows came together. “But, I’d never get a date with a girl like you otherwise
.”
I thought of Henry, his beautiful gray eyes, and my insides warmed. Admittedly, every girl probably wouldn’t find him as sexy as I did. He didn’t have that model look like Dillon that made him universally hot, but I felt so attracted to him it was hard to think straight. Surely, someone would feel that way about the man across from me.
“That’s an absolute and total copout, Geoff.” I stabbed my index finger on the table as I made my point. “Besides, why would you want to be with someone who wouldn’t want to be with the real you?”
The look on his face told me he’d never considered that.
“You could be a nice guy. In fact, you probably are.” I sighed, tightened my doggy-mangled purse on my shoulder, and stood. “So, I’ll give you some free advice. Put up an authentic photo of yourself, be honest with any potential date, and don’t settle for someone who doesn’t want you for exactly who you are.”
He nodded to me. “I’ll try. Thanks, Ellen.”
“You’re welcome.” The last of my irritation melted away and I turned to leave. “Best of luck.”
“Before you go, can I buy you a coffee?” When I gave him a skeptical look, he raised his palms. “Just as friends?”
Deciding he was a decent guy with a few insecurities, I sat back down. “Sure.”
Geoff ordered at the counter, returned to the table, and began fiddling with his stir straw. He appeared lost in thought as he twirled it again and again.
I sipped my latte and the hot liquid rolled down my throat. “Something wrong?”
“What you said before? About a person liking me for who I am?” He bent the straw, then straightened. “There’s this girl. My neighbor, actually.” A smile played at his lips. “I’ve been wanting to ask her out for a while, but my brother thinks she’s out of my league . . . ”
Nice sibling. No wonder Geoff was insecure. “Really?”
“I think about her a lot.”
