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The wait staff brings water and fried okra to the table. “Would you like anything else to drink?” the young man asks.
“I’d like an unsweet tea and the lady would like . . .” I don’t know what she likes, so I motion her to respond.
“The same please, with a lemon.”
The waiter nods and walks away to make our drinks. I pick up a piece of okra, tossing it into my mouth. I’ve ever had anything more heavenly than Mad Chicken.
I make a note to tell Leah that Kollyns drinks her tea without sugar so she doesn’t make an extra pitcher that will go to waste. When I told her I was having company, she mentioned she would make sure to include her favorites so she feels at home.
While we wait on our drinks, I watch her twitch in her chair and get comfortable, but it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable.
“Here are your drinks,” the waiter says, placing one in front of each of us. “Have you decided on what you’d like for dinner?”
I lift my chin at Kollyns, and she speaks first. “I’d like the parmesan, loaded baked potato with extra sour cream, and the peach cobbler.”
It’s nice to meet a woman who doesn’t mind eating in front of a man.
“And you, sir?”
“I’ll take the spicy, mac and cheese, and the cucumber salad.” My mouth waters just thinking about it.
When the staff leaves, we’re left alone again. “How was your day?”
It’s when her face pinches that I know what she wants to talk to me about. Based on her actions and side eyes, I’m willing to bet it’s because she’s not used to being able to relax without a list of things to get done at the office.
“It was fine, but that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” She says firmly. “I’m used to being busy and I’m not home often. So if you don’t want me to work while I’m here, we must come up with things I can do to stay busy.”
“The reason I say no working is because the women who often need this kind of help are so focused on their jobs, they haven’t taken the time to create the same type of bonds with anyone outside of their careers.”
Her beautiful blue eyes pop open wide, and I know she will be offended by my last statement, but she will have to get over herself. Before she can open her mouth, I hold my hand up for her to stop, and her eyes darken like the ocean as a storm rolls in.
“Look, you’ve already said your hobbies are basic functions that you need to live, so I’m confident in saying that you need to make friends and decide what you want to experience outside of work.” I watch as she places her hands in her lap, then straightens her shoulders and looks directly into my eyes.
“Fine. I’ll admit that you’re not wrong in that I’m married to my job and need a life outside of it. But in my defense, I don’t have anyone to take care of me, so it’s imperative that I do my best to maintain the standard of living to which I’m accustomed.”
I nod a couple of times, then take a drink of my tea allowing the icy coolness to soothe the words that are on the tip of my tongue.
“You’re not wrong. However, you’ve focused your whole adult life on success in the office, not at home.”
“Pot meet kettle.” She says, throwing her hands up. “Isn’t it ridiculous that you’re lecturing me on how to have a life, when so far the only people you hang with are my best friend and her family. Yet, you’re so high and mighty that you think you can help me find someone to date.”
Welcome to the party, Ms. Parker. She’s finally coming out of her shell and standing up for herself. I allow a chuckle to slip past my lips and her eyes move straight to them.
“I’m glad to see you are showing your backbone and talking to me. Whether your partner is happy about what you’re telling them doesn’t matter, trust me. What matters is that they have the ability to respond accordingly because they have all the facts. If you disagree—tell them. If you’re angry—explain why. If you’ve had a bad day at the office—let them know, even if you can’t talk about details. Humans aren’t mind readers, with the obvious exceptions.”
The more she shows me who she is, even when she’s being kind of bitchy, is turning me on. Typically the women I’m attracted to are strong and don’t need me to take care of them. It seems as though Kollyns is beginning to dig deep and find the parts of her that allow her to express who she is.
Her expression changes, her lips twitching into a pensive smile. I observe her body language, the rise and fall of her breasts, and her hands that can’t stay still. Then our waiter comes back with a huge tray of food, and her eyes light up.
“Oh my goodness,” she exclaims, pointing to the platters of food. “I believe we could feed a large family with all this food.” She laughs infectiously.
I pick up the basket of okra and hold it so that we have enough room on the table for all the plates. Once the top is covered with platters of comfort food, I hand the okra to the waiter. “Could you please bring refills for us?” I ask him.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” We shake our heads at the same time and I get ready to dig in.
“Looks like I missed the part of the menu that says it’s family style,” she comments, then picks up a drumstick from her platter of parmesan chicken and places it on her plate.
“No worries. Everyone misses it the first time. But there is nothing better than cold fried chicken the next morning so I consider it a win.”
