We spread the containers on the table and chose what we wanted with antique serving spoons.
“Tell me about yourself.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.
“My grandparents immigrated here, so I’m second generation. They live with my folks now and are supposed to be enjoying their retirement, but they’re not good at sitting still.”
We chatted about their love of gardening, and I said there was a community garden a few blocks away. “They might consider putting their names on the waiting list for an allotment.”
We finished eating, and I asked Remy if he wanted to take the leftovers home, but he suggested I keep them for my lunch tomorrow.
“Stay where you are and I’ll get dessert.”
He peered over his shoulder. “You’re not running to the deli, are you?”
“Ta-da.” I brought out the chocolate mousse I’d made at home early this morning. Thinking Remy and I might feed one another spoonfuls of the chocolatey goodness, I gave him a long-handled spoon and got one for me.
He eyed it. “Interesting.”
“It's a parfait spoon.”
“Even more interesting.” He studied his reflection in the back of the spoon, and I could have sworn the light in his eyes dimmed. Did he not like what he saw? But he recovered and his expression returned to the upbeat, flirty one.
He dipped it into the mousse and took a mouthful as I waited to see if he liked it. He closed his eyes. “Mmmm, this is delicious. It’s so light and fluffy.”
I couldn’t move or speak because he was mesmerizing, licking the chocolate off the back of his spoon. There was a dollop in the corner of his mouth, and I was tempted to grab a napkin to wipe it off. Licking it would have been preferable, but we didn’t know one another that well.
But Remy lapped at the morsel, and I gripped the table, fearing I’d slide off my chair and onto the floor.
“Delectable.”
That was how I’d describe him, but he checked his watch, and my excitement plummeted. The light in his eyes didn’t go out so much as darken, and I longed to know what was going on in his head. He was bored or he had somewhere else to be, but this was where the flaw in my plan was made clear. I couldn’t invite Remy to stay the night in the bed that lay just beyond the dining room. Hmmm, I should have thought of that and had our date at my place.
“We should clear up.” Remy glanced around, maybe looking for a kitchen. We had one, but it wasn’t functioning. I’d wash the dishes out back and thought we could do it together. But with him checking the time, I gave him an out and assured him as the host, it was my job.
“I had a lovely evening.” He took me in his arms and kissed the top of my head.
My car was here, so he wasn’t going to offer to drive me home. I really needed to examine my plans from every angle before coming up with another. This one was kinda fucked.
Remy hesitated at the door. Yes, he was going to suggest we spend the night together. But he gave me a look I interpreted as longing before he slipped into the night. I didn’t move until he pulled into traffic and beeped, and I lifted a hand to wave goodbye.
I locked the door and faced the mess of dirty dishes, melted candle wax, and leftovers. The not-so-perfect end to a fun evening with a bummer, full stop. At least I didn’t have to think about lunch tomorrow or dinner.
When I was finally done, I checked that everything was in its proper place and the clients wouldn’t find mustard on the chairs or mousse on the floor. Trudging to my car, I wondered if Remy had gone home or if he was out clubbing or gallivanting around the streets. I knew where he lived, but I drew the line at stalking.
The love-at-first-sight gig wasn’t all it was made out to be.
8
REMY
Last night I'd been on the best date of my life, bar none, and it was over far too soon. I loved that Hari opened up his world to me. Instead of going out to a restaurant, he had me in his business, the one that held so much of his identity, his family’s identity, where he helped bring pieces of wood to life. He was an active part of something so special, and let me in. It meant a lot to me.
Or maybe I was reading too much into it and it wasn’t that deep. But either way, I left there a mash-up of feeling on top of the world and being pulled back to him, not wanting to leave.
I wanted to offer him a ride home, but how ridiculous would that have been? He worked there. He drove there. He had a car. It wouldn’t sound like anything more than me wanting to get into his bed. Not that I didn’t want to be in his bed, but not like that. Not with pressure. I wanted it because we both did.
It took me forever to get to sleep. My mind replayed that kiss on my head over and over again as I ran my fingers along my lips wishing it had been there. It hadn’t been a real kiss, butthat didn’t matter. It still imprinted on me like none other had before.
I woke up to the sound of my alarm, which was unusual for me. Usually, I was awake watching the clock for the last few minutes, thinking,Oh, three minutes till my alarm goes off, two minutes till my alarm goes off,and wishing time would slow. But today, I didn’t have any of that. I was exhausted and would’ve stayed asleep a lot longer if it weren’t for needing to be a responsible adult.
