by Tiffani Lynn
Not one to waste food, I finish eating and wait for her. Once she’s done and the air between us is thick with discontent, I gesture to Pierre. When he arrives, I glance at Simone and ask, “Would you like dessert?”
“No, thank you,” is her snippy reply and Pierre must get the idea that this has not been successful because I don’t say anything, and he’s asking, “One check or separate checks?”
Simone’s mouth drops open like she’s shocked he would ask that. I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. I may be pissed about the waste of time this date has been for me, but I’m not rude enough to have her pay for her meal. “One check. I’ve got it.”
“As you wish,” he says and slips away toward the kitchen.
My fingers drum lightly on the table as we wait. Her eyes wander around the restaurant, taking in everything around us, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I’ve never been good with silence, even as agitated as I am. “How was your meal?” I ask her.
“Very good. I expected it though. All the reviews were stellar.”
“You looked it up online?”
“Well, of course. I’ve never been here before and love trying new places.”
Her words and actions during the evening don’t match a person who was excited to be here. I want to ask about that, but I think that would open a can of worms. If she wanted to share what was going on, she could have done that at any point since she returned from her last marathon phone call. Pierre returns and sets the leather receipt folder on the table. I open it as he’s backing away and say, “Hold on, Pierre. You can take this.” I slip my credit card into the folder and hand it back to him.
“You aren’t even going to look at that?” Her eyes are wide with shock.
Pierre pauses and looks to me like I might change my mind. I shake my head and gesture for him to go. “No, I don’t care what it says.”
“I know this date was bad but that’s no reason to risk getting ripped off.
“I just don’t want to waste any more time. If the numbers look out of whack when I sign for the credit card, I’ll worry about it then.”
“Fine, but I think you’re being ridiculous.” She shakes her head and purses her lips. I can’t figure out why she’s so concerned about the bill that she’s being bitchy about it. It’s my money and after this crappy date, there is no hope we will ever share a bank account. It shouldn’t matter to her what I do with my money. Not wanting to argue with her, I keep my mouth shut.
Pierre returns and I glance at the bill. The next first date I go on will be to a much cheaper location. This meal was stupid-expensive, considering I was miserable through all but about ten minutes of it.
How can a woman so beautiful be so inconsiderate and rude? Why I can’t find a woman who is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside, I have no idea. At least I don’t have to wonder about the one who got away. I was afraid the memory of the woman from that night would haunt me forever. Now I know, and I almost wish I didn’t have this date to tarnish the memory of the night Simone and I spent together.
After signing and marking the tip on the charge slip, I stand and wait for Simone to gather her stuff. Then I follow her out of the restaurant. Outside of the front doors she pauses like she’s going to say goodbye. “I’ll follow you to your car,” I tell her, gesturing with my hand for her to lead the way. Making sure she gets back to her car safely is part of the deal on a date with me. Well, normally I’d make sure she gets inside her home safely because I would have picked her up and driven her here, but since I didn’t, I’m making sure she gets to her car okay.
We pause at a black Nissan SUV that’s probably several years old by the look of the model. She swings the door open, tosses her purse on the passenger seat, and pauses with the door dividing us. “Thank you for dinner.”
I nod and shove my hands in my pockets. “You’re welcome. Drive safe.” What else do you say when a date bombs? I won’t lie and say I’m going to call when I’m not. Simone obviously understands this didn’t turn out well so she nods and says, “You too.”
I back away from the car, wishing like hell the night had gone better and I could take that gorgeous woman home with me. Instead I move through the parking lot and on with my life. Alone.
5
Simone
Well that sucked. I should have cancelled and stayed home. Heading in to the date with Thomas when I was already frazzled and late, only to be interrupted by my assistant with problem after problem concerning the upload of my book, was embarrassing and stressful. I’ve never handled stress well and that was a good example. When I sensed his irritation, I should have explained what was going on instead of clamming up.
Unsure of how to salvage the date and slightly irritated that the first date I’ve been on in a long time was that bad, I didn’t react well and I can’t imagine what he’s going to tell Summer and Mike about me. He will probably also tell them about our one-night stand and they’ll think I’m some kind of bitchy slut.
On one hand, I’m glad he was the guy from that night; at least now I don’t get to play what-if games in my head, thinking I snuck out on the love of my life and missed my chance at happiness. On the other hand, it was super embarrassing walking into a blind date only to find out that he was the one who screwed me senseless a week ago.
Banging my head on the steering wheel, I curse out loud. I should never have said yes to a date with Summer’s brother-in-law and lifetime friend. I know better. If it didn’t go well, which it didn’t, then I’d risk losing a friend. I’m sure she’ll be pissed for a while. Not one to enjoy confrontation, I’ll be avoiding her phone calls for the foreseeable future.
That’s alright, though, because I need to stay off the phone and the internet and get back to writing. If I could figure out how to break this writer’s block, things would be much smoother in my author life. Maybe the trauma of tonight’s date will do that for me.
It’s been a week since the date from hell and my latest release. My release went okay, not stellar, but well enough that I can pay my bills. My writing is back on point and flowing as if it never stopped. I guess having a horrible date and the happiness of having Gavin come home after being gone so long helped give me some emotional fuel. It feels good to have the words back. Writing is such a soul-cleansing experience for me. It has nothing to do with emptying my feelings on paper and all about the creative center of my brain churning out words and phrases.
Although it hurt a little to hear Gavin’s excited recount of the fabulous evening his stepmother provided him, I was still happy to hear the joy in his voice. I need to make a note to take him to a hockey game this season and see what all the fuss is about. It’s obviously something he likes to do.
It’s Sunday morning and Gavin is in his room playing Xbox and I’m writing on my laptop on the couch. He and I are going to see the latest Marvel movie late this afternoon, but for now we are doing our own thing.
My phone rings and the caller ID shows that it’s my best friend, and lawyer, Luciana. Luci and I have been best friends since high school and managed to stay that way even though our lives went in drastically different directions. The firm she works for is located in Miami. She went to University of Miami for law school and never came back. I was sad at first, hoping she’d change her mind and move to Tampa, but it’s a nice place for me to escape to sometimes when I don’t have Gavin.
“Hola, Chica,” I say in my exaggerated Spanish accent. She laughs like crazy. When I took Spanish in high school her family refused to let me speak English at her house, and since I was always there, I got pretty good. She, on the other hand, doesn’t speak it often enough and it drives her crazy when I try to bait her into a conversation in Spanish.
“Hey, girl! What’re you doing?”
“Writing. Gavin and I are going to a superhero movie this afternoon. That’s about it. What about you? You sound awfully chipper. You get some from that sexy baseball player of yours?”
“No, Titus i
s in New York. He’ll be back in a week.”
“So what’s up? Why are you so chipper this Sunday morning? Are you working on the weekend? I already sent that paperwork back, signed. You should have it by now.”
“I sent your paperwork to their lawyer and that should take care of everything. I can’t wait to see this story played out in the theater. It’s my favorite of yours.”
“You keep saying that. It’s giving me a complex.”
“It shouldn’t. I just relate to this one best. They did such a good job on the movie version of the last one that I’m expecting good things this time around.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve heard horror stories about books being made into movies, so I hope this experience is as good as the last.”
“Enough work talk. Do you have Gavin next week on Saturday?”
“No, he’s with his dad. Why?”
“I need a date to this charity gala here in Miami. Titus won’t be back but I still want to go. Lots of celebrities, you get to dress up. Last year it was fun. Please come stay with me and go!”
“It has been a while since I dressed up, except for that horrible blind date.”
“Come down on Friday. It’s black tie so bring a formal dress. Eek! I’m so excited! We haven’t done this in so long!”
“Me too, sounds fun. I’ll text you when my flight is about to leave Tampa.”
“Love you, girl!”
“You too!”
I hang up, move my laptop over to the couch cushion and wander into my closet to review my dress choices. Pulling them all out and draping them across my bed, I decide on the floor-length, cleavage-bearing, spaghetti-strapped black gown that’s classier than the other three. It looks like a floor-length wrap dress and it has little crystals on it that add a little extra pizzazz to it. The dress is sexy and sleek without being slutty, and I feel beautiful when I wear it.
Gavin walks in while I’m surveying the dresses on my bed. “Whatcha doin’, Mom?”
“Aunt Luci invited me to a big event in Miami next weekend while you’re with your dad, so I’m trying to figure out what I should wear. I thinking I’m going with the black one. What do you think?”
“Well black is boring but Jimmy’s dad saw a picture of you in that dress in a magazine when I was over there, and he said you looked hot so I suppose that’s a good choice, even if Jimmy’s dad is kind of a dork.”
I laugh and ruffle his hair. “Which shoes?” I hold up a pair of closed-toe, strappy black three-inch heels in one hand and a pair of peep-toe, sparkly silver four-inch heels in the other. He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m a boy. I don’t know anything about girls’ shoes.”
“You know what you like. Which ones?” I prod, just because his expressions are hilarious when it comes to my “girly stuff.”
“Fine. The silver ones. You need some color so it doesn’t look like you’re going to a funeral, Mom. I’m going back to my game.” He turns and shuffles back out of my room and I smile at his retreating back. Gavin’s right, I need some color. Silver it is.
6
Thomas
Although I know it’s an asshole thing to do, I avoid Summer’s calls to inquire about my date with Simone the day after. I’m not in the mood to tell her that her friend is single for a reason. Summer always sees the best in people and will have a hard time with that conversation, but she also won’t let me get away with saying that Simone and I just didn’t hit it off. Now that she and my brother are happy and in love, she wants to wrap the rest of the world in her cotton candy, unicorn-filled land of love and glitter.
Tomorrow, when we leave for Key West, she can get her answers. Maybe by then she will have talked to Simone and won’t ask me anything. My phone rings for the second time but this time it’s from my brother. As much as I’d like to ignore his call, I can’t. He’s my boss and doesn’t take kindly to me going AWOL when there is work to be done. Starting a new business is more difficult if your employees don’t cooperate.
“Yo, bro!” I answer in lieu of hello.
“You avoiding my wife’s phone calls?”
“Yup. If this is about my date, we can hang up now. If this is work or family related, keep talking.”
Mike exhales loudly and I wait to see which route he’s going to go with the conversation. “Fine, but you have to talk to her at some point about it.”
“Sure, but not right now. I’m still pissed and don’t want to take it out on her.”
“Fair enough, because if you even think about raising your voice to my wife, I’ll kick your ass.”
With a light chuckle, I respond, “She’s practically been my sister since we were kids. You can’t pull the ‘my wife’ card now with shit like this. I know how my date turned out is not Summer’s fault but it was a pretty shitty date and I don’t want to be rude to Summer. But I’ll be straight up with you, I’m not going on any more blind dates, set ups, or whatever you want to call them.”
“I’m all for staying the hell out of your nonexistent love life. Summer just wants you to be happy and you can avoid her today, but tomorrow you’re her bodyguard so there’s no escape.”
“Whatever. So what’s up?” I try to move the conversation along, ready to be done thinking of my nonexistent love life.
“I didn’t email you an itinerary yet so I figured I’d better go over it with you on the phone. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at the Riverview exit off of I-75 and you can drive her to Key West from there. I asked about flying you guys but she still says she wants to go by car. I feel for you, though. She’s going to want to stop to pee every 30 minutes.”
“I figured that would be the case. That’s okay.”
“You’ll be down there about two weeks. If I wrap up my stuff here, I’ll come relieve you.”
“That’s fine. When I get back, I’ll rent an apartment. I think Mom is getting tired of my crazy schedule.”
“Probably a good idea. Our parents are pretty active. You’re probably cramping their style.”
We both laugh because he’s right, and we end our conversation shortly thereafter.
The next day, Summer waits until we’re three exits down the road before she can’t take it anymore. “So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go well.”
A quick glance over at her finds her chewing on her bottom lip nervously. I sigh and turn my focus back to the road. “No, it didn’t. It was probably the worst date ever. I didn’t want you to feel bad so I just avoided telling you.”
“I can’t for the life of me understand what could have gone wrong.”
“Let’s just say we are fundamentally different.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I believe in being on time and being considerate of other people and she…doesn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Summer stiffens and glares at me.
“It means I waited 45 minutes for her to show up and then waited off and on through the rest of the date for her to get off the phone. When I asked if everything was okay, she said yes and gave no explanation. It sucked. I love you, Summer, but I’m begging you not to set me up on any more dates. If I want to get out into the world of dating, I’ll do it myself. I appreciate your effort though.”
“I’m shocked. She’s never late for anything. Are you sure the right woman showed up and you weren’t on another date by accident?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Yes, tall, slender but slightly curvy. Light brown hair with reddish highlights that comes a little above her shoulders.”
“Ugh. That’s her. Damn. I was hoping it wasn’t. The date you described doesn’t match her personality at all. Are you sure you don’t want to give it another chance?”
“I’m certain, and I bet if you ask her she’ll say the same. She didn’t look any more pleased than me when she realized I started eating without her. What she failed to think about was the fact that our food had been on the table for a while before I finally cut into it. I figured if I was paying a small fortune for d
inner, I was going to enjoy it at least lukewarm.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas. That doesn’t sound anything like my friend, but I believe you and I’ll stay out of your dating life. I just want you to be happy.”
We left the conversation at that, turned up the radio and sang our way to Key West. Mike was right and we had to stop for her to pee a lot, but I didn’t mind.
Because Summer was willing to work longer every day than she probably should have, Production is able to wrap up her shoot three days early, and I’m thankful to be headed home tomorrow after she rests. Key West is an awesome place to visit but it loses its appeal after a week.
Today it’s particularly hot so I’ve not only been lingering in the background for everything she does but also getting her fresh water bottles all day. I can’t seem to keep up with her thirst and I’m starting to get a little concerned. After the last scene of the day, I look up at Summer to find that she’s flushed and a little dazed. Before I can say anything, she drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Terror like I’ve never known before races through my system and I sprint to her. Everyone stands there shocked for half a second before they move. I start yelling out orders, “Call 911! We need an ambulance. Get me a cloth and a cold bottle of water.” I check for a pulse and she has one but it’s thready. She’s breathing, but her skin is clammy. Someone from the crowd surrounding her shoves the bottle and cloth in front of me and I grab hold. I wet the cloth and wipe her face down, all the while talking to her.
“Summer, open your eyes. I need to know you’re okay. Please, Summer!” I’m known for being calm in extreme situations but seeing my pregnant sister-in-law like this is almost too much. I hear the sirens approach and her eyes flicker open. It takes her a second to focus on me as the paramedics approach and push everyone back. As I rise to step away, she grabs onto my arm. “Don’t leave me, Tommy! I’m scared.” She hasn’t called me Tommy since before high school.
