Third Date (10 page)

“How’d it go?”

“It’s just a first interview but I think it went well. I can tell you more at dinner.”

He walks away as I stand there, trying to figure him out. Another dinner invitation. And it’ll be just the two of us. Why does he want to spend all this time with me? He can’t be interested in me romantically. He wouldn’t even give me a kiss.

 
People are bumping into me as they leave the expo hall which is closing in 5 minutes. I head to the elevator and wait in the long line to get on. When I’m back in my room, I consider calling Grant but I don’t really have anything to say to him. I can’t just ramble on about the conference. I need to have interesting topics to discuss and fun stories to tell.
 

I sit down at the desk in my room and pick up the hotel pen and try to make a list of possible topics to discuss with Grant. But after 5 minutes, I’m left with nothing but circular doodles on the hotel notepad. I have nothing to say to him. Nothing! It’s no wonder I can’t get a date.
 

I’ll have to give it more thought and call Grant later on tonight. Right now, I need to find something to wear to dinner. My suitcase was delivered to the hotel this morning so at least now I have more clothing options.

Brad didn’t say where we were going, but I’m guessing it’s a sports bar or another Irish bar. Brad seems like a burger-and-beer type of guy. And this isn’t a date so it’s not like I need to try to impress him by dressing up. I pull out a pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. Comfortable and appropriate for a sports bar.

At 7 sharp, Brad arrives at my door. He’s still dressed in a suit, although it looks like he changed into a fresh white shirt. He smells amazing. I wonder what cologne that is. Whatever it is, it makes me want to get closer to him.

“Am I too early?” Brad looks me up and down, confused by my appearance. Next to him, I look like I’m getting ready to clean the garage.

“Oh, um, no, you’re not too early. Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was. You can come in and wait if you want.”

“I can go back to my room. Just call me whenever you’re ready.” He turns to leave.
 

“No, that’s okay. Just come in. It won’t take me long.”

He walks in the room and takes a seat at the desk, noticing my obsessive doodling. “Do you like to draw?”

“I just do that when I’m brainstorming new ideas.” I go over and toss the notepad in the trash. “So where are we going tonight?”

“I got us reservations at an Italian restaurant. The concierge said it was one of the best places in town. It’s a little family-owned place that’s been around forever. The locals love it. I guess I should have asked you first. Do you even like Italian?”

“I love Italian. It sounds great. I’ll go get ready.”

I grab the one and only dress I brought and take it into the bathroom to change. The dress is a red, fitted wrap dress that I rarely wear because I never go out. I don’t even know why I brought it, other than the fact that it’s knit and doesn’t wrinkle. It’s cut a little lower in front than I would normally be comfortable with, but it’s my only option. I put on a little more makeup and take my hair down from the ponytail I had it in. Stepping back and checking myself out in the mirror, I actually look pretty nice. Maybe even a little sexy.

When I come out of the bathroom, Brad is talking on the phone. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
 

He puts his phone away. “Morgan, you look great. And that only took 5 minutes? Jessica, my ex-fiancé, used to take 2 hours just to get ready to go to the mall. Sorry, I shouldn’t be bringing her up. Let me start again. You look very nice, Morgan.”

“Thank you.” I grab my purse. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

On the way to the restaurant, Brad explains that he just talked to the man he interviewed with earlier and the guy said Brad was one of the top candidates for the job. “They’re taking me to dinner tomorrow night for a second interview.”

“Brad, that’s great! Congratulations!”
 

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited about it. It’s a small company but they’re really growing.”

We get to the restaurant and Brad parks right out front. The restaurant is in an old brick building on a narrow cobblestone street. Black lampposts line the sidewalk. A red awning hangs over the front of the restaurant, along with a sign that says ‘Gino’s.’
 

Before I can get out of the car, Brad comes over and opens my door, offering his hand to help me out. He opens the restaurant door for me, too, then places his hand gently on my back and leads me to the hostess stand.
 

“Reservation for Fletcher.”

The hostess takes us to a table for two along the back wall. The restaurant has a very intimate feel. It’s small, with low lighting and candles on every table. The chairs are covered in a red velvet material and red velvet drapes outline the windows. The place is full of couples that look like they’re in love. I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one guy proposes by the time we finish dinner.

“So what do you think?” Brad asks once we’re seated.

“I like it. It’s nice.”

What I’m really thinking is that it’s nice for people who are on a date, which we clearly are not. Or are we? He picked a romantic Italian restaurant for dinner. But maybe he didn’t know it was romantic until we got here.

Brad picks up his menu and starts looking through it. “The concierge at the hotel said this place has the best meatballs in town.”

So that explains it. It’s all about the meatballs. That’s why he took me here. The romantic atmosphere had nothing to do with it. I guess we’re just two former high school classmates having dinner.

The waiter takes our order. We both get the spaghetti and meatballs and Brad orders a bottle of wine. Even though we’re not on a date, I wouldn’t
mind
being on a date with Brad. He’s actually done everything right so far. Picked a nice place to eat, opened my door, complimented my outfit.
 

“So you seemed kind of surprised when I invited you for dinner.” He smiles. He really does have an infectious smile. I’m smiling back and I don’t even know why. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into it or anything. I just had fun the other night at the bar and thought we could hang out again.”

His statement confirms this is not a date.
Hang out?
He makes it sound like I’m one of his guy friends. You don’t ‘hang out’ with a girl you like. You ‘go out’ with a girl.

“I’m glad you asked me. If you hadn’t, I probably would’ve just grabbed a sandwich from that deli across from the hotel and watched TV all night.”
 

“You can’t sit in your room. You’re in this great city. You have to get out and enjoy it.” He picks up his wine glass. “Shall we toast?”

I pick my glass up. “What are we toasting to?”

“To two old friends meeting up again.” We clink glasses and take a drink.

“We weren’t really friends, Brad. In fact, I don’t think we ever spoke.”

“Sure we did. You always had trouble getting your locker open and I helped you open it. Twice. And your sophomore year you bumped into me in the hall and we said hi to each other. How could you forget all those meaningful encounters? I’m so hurt.” He says it jokingly.

I laugh. “Yeah, I remember. It’s all coming back to me now. Those were good times.”

“It’s funny that all these years later we’re having dinner together. In high school you never would’ve gone to dinner with me.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, like you would’ve asked me out in high school.”

“I told you last night, I had a huge crush on you. I was just too afraid to ask you out. I knew you’d say no. I couldn’t handle rejection back then, so I went the safe route and waited for girls to come to me.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t have a problem getting them.”

He sips his wine. “So was I right?”

“About what?”

“Would you have said no?”

“Probably.” I take a moment to think about it. “Actually, yes, you’re right. I would’ve said no. No offense but I knew your reputation and I wasn’t ready for that.”

“I know. And that’s why I liked you.”

“I seriously didn’t think you even noticed me.”

“I definitely noticed you. I even went to that play you were in. I went all three nights and it wasn’t even a good play. Well, you were good but the play itself was really bad.”

“You’re kidding me, right? You did not go to that stupid play three times just to see me. Kristin was in that play. She was the hottest girl in my class. Maybe you’re remembering it wrong and you were going to see Kristen.”

“Nope. It was you.” He picks up his cloth napkin and puts it on his lap. “I don’t even remember Kristen being in it. What role did she play?”

“Wait a minute. So you, the hot football stud, had a crush on me? I still don’t believe you, Brad, but it’s a funny story.” I take a sip of wine.

“You thought I was hot?” He leans back and smiles.

I feel my face heating up and look off to the side, avoiding his gaze. “All the girls did. That’s why you had a million dates.”

“I thought you didn’t notice me in high school.”

I look back at him. “I never said that. Of course I noticed you. You were one of the most popular guys in school. Everyone knows the popular people.”

He leans forward again. “So who were the lucky guys who got a date with you in high school?”

“I’m sure they didn’t think they were lucky, because they definitely didn’t
get
lucky. I can tell you that. It’s so long ago, I can’t even remember their names. Isn’t that terrible? I think one guy was Kurt something. We were lab partners in biology. We dated for a couple weeks. Then some guy from the baseball team asked me out junior year, but after our first date I realized he only wanted sex and when he found out I wouldn’t do it, he moved on.”

Why am I’m talking about this with Brad? How did we even get on this subject? I have to change topics.

“Tell me about your family, Brad. Are they still in Bloomington?”

“My mom is still there. Still in the same house.”

“What about your dad?”

Brad’s cheerful smile fades. “He passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I look down, pretending to adjust the napkin in my lap.

“It’s fine. You’re right. You didn’t know. It’s still a little too fresh in my mind. I didn’t mean to get all depressed like that.” Brad takes a drink of his water. “My dad had a heart attack. It was shocking to everyone because he was always in such great shape. He ran. He biked. Ate well. Didn’t smoke. And then one day, it happened and that was it. He was gone. He and I were close so it really hit me hard.”

“I know what you mean.” I say it quietly, almost to myself.
 

“I know you do.” He puts his hand on my arm. “Morgan, I never said how sorry I was about your mom. I was too young and stupid to say anything to you back then. We all were. Everyone just tried to pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for you. I mean, it was hard for me to lose my dad when I was 24 but you were just 13 when your mom died. That’s a tough age to lose a parent.”

“Yeah, it was. I pretty much shut down after it happened. I stopped going out with my friends. I didn’t go to school functions. I just took care of my dad. He kept telling me to go out and be a normal teenager, but I didn’t. I don’t know why. I guess I felt bad for him, stuck taking care of a teenage girl. Mom was supposed to take over during those years, you know? So anyway, instead of going out like everyone else, I stayed home and made dinner, did laundry, took care of the house.”
 

I can’t believe I’m telling Brad all this. Why am I doing this? I never talk about this stuff. With anyone. And now that I’m talking about it, I realize it’s really depressing. I smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “But doing all that made me more responsible than most people my age. So that’s good.”

“Morgan, if I’d known you were sitting home by yourself like that, I would’ve come over. I would’ve made you go out. Even if you wouldn’t have dated me, we could’ve at least hung out together. I only lived a few blocks from you.”

That’s right. Brad lived just a few streets over. I remember driving by his house one Friday night when his parents were out of town. I was a sophomore and he was a senior. He had a huge party, and when I drove by, I saw Brad standing next to this girl who was in my Spanish class. I wondered how she even got invited, given that he usually only invited other seniors to his parties.

“Your house is the white one with the two garden gnomes in front, right?”

He nods. “That’s the one. The garden gnomes blew away in a storm a few years ago. We never found them and luckily, my mom never replaced them. I hated those things. I always felt like they were watching me.”

“You said our houses were only a few blocks apart, so how do you know where I lived? I mean, everyone knew
your
house because you always had parties, but how did you know which house was mine?”

“I had a paper route when I was 12 and your house was on my route.” He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “And when I was 14, I might’ve rode by there a few times on my bike checking to see if a certain girl was around.”

“You really did that?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I was a total stalker. I’m surprised your dad didn’t go yell at my parents.”

“So my dad saw you riding by?”

“He caught me standing on the sidewalk, looking up at your window. He sat me down in the garage and let me know his daughter would not be dating for a very long time. But he was nice about it. And then he gave me a can of Coke and a popsicle and sent me on my way.”

I’m completely dumbfounded. How did I not know all this was going on?

“How long were you biking past my house before my dad talked to you?”

“That whole summer. Not every day. Just now and then. But your dad didn’t talk to me until August, right before school started.”

“What did you like so much about me? I never even talked to you.”

He gives me that great smile again and says, “I liked your hair. It was always really shiny. Boys are attracted to shiny things.”