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“Thank you,” I said as she sat back down beside me on the couch, a little bit closer to me than she was previously. “Yep, it was just us guys. I really haven’t been around a lot of women growing up, now that you mention it, other than maybe a babysitter here and there, teachers, or friends’ moms, things like that.”
“So what does your dad do?”
“He owns an international company based out of Tennessee. He’s a pretty successful businessman, you could say. The company has branches all over the place,” I explained.
“Did your dad spend much time with you growing up?”
“You know, he really did. My dad was a busy and important man, but he also made sure that my brother and I knew we were important to him. He was always at our games, always made it to parents’ night at our school. He’s a really good guy. A lot of people think because he has so much money, he must be some kind of jerk, but my dad is really a charitable pers
on once you get to know him.
“He donates a lot of money to a foundation for cancer research, which, of course, was how my mother died. He donates gifts to the children’s hospital every Christmas. And of course, he donates every year to the university. He got his business degree here himself a few decades ago now.” My dad was one of the main reasons I had decided on this particular school, and I knew he was proud of me for following in his footsteps, which meant a lot to me. I really looked up to my father in a lot of ways.
“He does sound like a great guy. I guess I know where you get it from now.” Zia’s compliment sent a rush of pride and excitement through me. She thought I was a great guy. It was the spark I needed to rekindle the little flame of hope that maybe she could feel something more for me.
“What about you? What is your family like?” I asked as I reached out a masculine hand to touch her knee before bringing it back to rest in my lap. I wanted some kind of physical contact, but I still wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with or what the boundaries were just yet. To test the boundaries, I had to push at them slowly. So far, she had at least seemed receptive.
Zia talked about her parents, her younger brother whom she was never close to because of their age difference, and how her family had split their time together after her parents divorced when she was still fairly young. Her father was an architect and her mother was a corporate assistant.
Both of her parents had stayed on good terms even after the divorce, which I could tell she appreciated. They had both remarried, but neither had any more kids after that.
After a while, the conversation shifted to school. I explained how I was majoring in sports medicine with a minor in biology, which, of course, meant a ton of science classes. I could tell she was surprised that I chose such an involved study. I joked that I needed a lot of brains to balance out all this brawn, which got a beautiful smile out of her.
It really came down to wanting a career doing something I loved while helping other people in the process; I wanted to put my athletic ability and physical talents to good use. Zia shared the same respect, which she said was why she had chosen psychology. I could tell she had a talent for that as well.
Then the conversation turned to our night out from the previous weekend, salsa dancing at El Sabor. I admitted how different it was for me to go out to a place with people who didn’t know who I was.
“Was it different in a good way or a bad way?” she asked.
“In a good way,” I answered, and then qualified, “A very good way.”
Around here, it was not often that I could walk into a place and not have five different people immediately walk up and talk to me. I wasn’t meaning to sound conceited or anything, but it was just how things were. People knew who I was, and most of them wanted me to know them, too.
I didn’t tell her this, but maybe that was part of the allure for me about Zia. She garnered my attention silently without even trying, and she wasn’t going to make it easy on me even now. She was a mystery, a challenge.
Finally, the conversation went in a direction I’d been hoping it would go with her since we’d met: dating.
“Tell me what type of girls you’re attracted to. What kind of characteristics do you hope for, other than what you told me that first night at the coffee shop?” I could tell Zia was interested in hearing my answer to this. She put her glass of wine down, shifted to where she sat sideways, cross-legged on the sofa cushion, angling her body directly facing me. She leaned forward as though she was intently listening and awaiting my response.
Realizing this was serious, I decided I had better put some genuine thought into it. I sat quietly, my eyes searching the ceiling in contemplation for the answer.
Finally, I looked back at her and gave her the answer she’d been so patiently waiting for. “I haven’t got a clue.”
“Seriously?” She feigned annoyance, but continued to smile.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Everything I’ve ever thought I wanted has turned out to be less than fulfilling so far, so maybe it’s about time to figure out some new standards for myself.”
She nodded in understanding. “I guess I can accept that.”
“What about you? Why aren’t you dating anyone?” I asked as I lightly squeezed her shoulder before using the same hand to pick up my bottle of beer to take a sip.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She sighed. “I mean, I’m not closed off to the idea or anything. I just don’t feel like I need it to be happy.”
She paused briefly and then continued. “It also doesn’t help that the relationships I’ve had in the past did not do much to make me all that happy. So when you’ve been happier not being in a relationship than you’ve ever been while in a relationship, let’s just say it hasn’t earned a top spot on my priority list.”
“Wow, you must have really been burned,” I said, shaking my head. It sounded like something may have ended badly, but I didn’t want to pry. I knew there was an unspoken rule about not talking about past boyfriends or girlfriends to your current ones, and although I wasn’t a current one at the moment, I didn’t want to jinx myself if I ever hoped to be one.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks, but it really hasn’t been anything that traumatizing. I’m just content with what I have: my friends, my family, school. I’m okay with waiting for the right guy. I’m not so desperate for love that I feel like I need to go out and find it in just anybody.” Zia shrugged and took another sip of her wine.
