I shake my head, ill-at-ease. The man is my boss, not my boyfriend.
“Yes, I’m sure it would be,” he says.
For some reason, Boss Man doesn’t strike me as the most social person. “Well, we should probably get going,” I tell him. “You know the drill, Claudia.”
She smiles. “Yes, I’ve been to this rodeo before.”
“Well, it was nice to see you again, Claudia,” Weston offers very politely, and I shoot her one last smile as we head out. She throws me a thumbs up and a wink.
* * *
The restaurant is very interesting,casual, with a cafeteria-style layout. The two opposing walls are rustic brick, and large copper pans hang against the back wall over the open kitchen. Dark Medieval-like light fixtures are suspended from the ceiling. The tables are marble, and are lined with contemporary leather chairs. Long wooden benches stretch along the brick walls and offer additional seating. Interesting, colorful contemporary art dots the walls, inviting discussion.
The hostess leads us to our seats, and Weston offers me the seating choice: chair or bench against the wall. I choose the bench which is lined with colorful flat cushions. It’s very cozy. I slip off my purse, shrug out of my jacket, and set them next to me on the bench.
“Fantastic place,” I offer. “Very trendy.”
“I might be in my forties, but I still try to be cool. My kids are always saying I’m old.”
I’m shocked by his revelation. He doesn’t look like a man in his forties. At thirty-one, I’m a lot younger than him. Who knew? And who cares?
As soon as our jackets are off, the server appears with water and menus. We thank her profusely, and peruse our menus without a word. I’m not sure why, but the atmosphere feels charged. This is a date, and we both know it. It’s not the office, and the dynamic is quite different. Suddenly, I’m quite nervous and eager to impress.
I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it.
The place is casual but the menu is quite upscale. We both study it for quite a while, and finally settle on the yogurt dill appetizer followed by chicken kebabs and Greek salad for me, and the duck gyro and salad for him.
“So tell me about yourself, Gretchen,” he says. “We really don’t know enough about each other.”
He’s right. We don’t. He really doesn’t know me at all. I feel like I know him better than he knows me, but truth be told, I don’t know that much either.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Where did you grow up? Do you have any siblings? How did you meet Donovan?”
“Wow, that’s a lot of questions.”
He smiles. “We have all night. Sure, I know you like to be spanked. I know you’re very creative, and a good mom. But what else do I know?”
“Well,” I start. “I grew up in Aurora, and I have a sister two years older than me. Her name is Laura. She lives in Paris, and is married to a French guy. My dad left when I was small, so it’s always been us two and my mom. I met Donovan at a grocery store when I reached for a package of pasta and the whole lot came tumbling on the floor, and he helped me clean up the mess. We were both college students, but were at different schools. He was visiting his mom, and was cooking dinner, I remember. He always said it was love at first sight.”
“And was it?”
I smile, remembering that moment years ago. “Yes, I think so. Do you believe in love at first sight?”
His smile fades. “Yes… it can be a dangerous thing.”
I nod in agreement. “What about you? Where are you from? Do you have any siblings. How did you meet your ex-wife?”
The server arrives with our appetizer, interrupting the flow of our conversation, but as soon as she leaves, Weston picks up the conversation where we left it. “Chicago… my mother was studying at Oxford, and one of her professors knocked her up,” he says matter-of-factly. “He wanted nothing to do with the baby.”
“The baby?” I ask. “You?”
He smiles. “Yes… me. He was a wealthy man, and supported us financially, but that was it. I was mostly raised by my nanny… Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth… like your daughter?”
“Yes… we named Lizzie after her.”
