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“I don’t know if I can do this,” Ember spoke into her phone, letting her head fall back on the headrest of her car. She was parked in Delmonico’s lot, the engine off but the doors still closed. For the past few minutes she’d been trying to get the guts up to actually get out and walk into the restaurant.
What had she been thinking? The app was only supposed to be a bit of fun, it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere. And yet here she was, in her best clothes, about to meet a guy she wasn’t even sure she was interested in.
This was Lucas Russell’s fault. If he hadn’t been so vehement about her not coming on this date, she probably would have pulled out of it all by herself. But she’d managed to talk herself into this corner and there was no way to get out of it.
There was more to it than that, though. She’d liked the way he’d looked when she’d mentioned the date, as though he was jealous, even though she knew it wasn’t possible. And he’d made her promise to call him when the date was over – for some reason that made her skin tingle.
“Of course you can do it,” Ally told her. “You’re almost there now. You need to channel your inner diva and strut your stuff into the restaurant. Remember, you’re the prize here. You need to act like it.”
Well she certainly didn’t feel like it. Not even wearing this blue-and-yellow dress she’d bought especially for the date. She glanced in the rear view mirror, adjusting it so she could see her face. Her make-up looked as immaculate as it had when she’d put it on an hour ago, and for once her thick hair was under control, falling in dark glossy waves past her shoulders.
Sighing, she pushed the mirror back into position. “Okay, I should go. I’m already late.” Her heart really wasn’t in it. If it wasn’t for the fact she had Ally encouraging her, she would turn around and drive right home. Okay, she wouldn’t, because she knew what it felt like to be rejected. She’d said she’d come on a date, and she was here. Now she just needed to get on with it.
“Five minutes late is perfect, it shows you’re punctual without being desperate. Now remember, ask a lot of questions about him. Be interested. Guys love showing off.”
It was ironic that Ally was giving her advice about men, when Ember was the one who’d lived with a guy for six years. Still, when it came to first dates she was less than clueless, it was like learning a whole new language.
She took a deep breath in. “I’m going now.”
“Okay. Call me as soon as you’re out. And remember, it doesn’t matter if he’s the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever seen, women like us never give it up on the first date.”
“What?” Ember scrunched her face up. “Why would I give anything up?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you? Whatever you do, don’t have sex with him.”
Ember rolled her eyes even though Ally wasn’t there to see it. “I wasn’t planning to, but thanks for the advice. Bye, now.” She hung up before Ally had a chance to say anything else to make her panic. Not that it mattered, because Ember was already feeling sick about this.
She couldn’t help but think about what Lucas had said. That guys who used this dating app were only after one thing. Was she going to be spending the night batting this guy’s advances off? She didn’t like the idea that Lucas was going to be proved right.
But then Adam Michaelson had seemed nice enough when they were chatting. He hadn’t mentioned sex or sent any disgusting photos, nor had he done anything that sent her senses tingling. From their communication, he seemed like a perfectly nice guy, who was looking for somebody to spend some time with. She’d eat dinner, have a chat, and maybe she’d be able to go home with some self respect.
Squaring her shoulders, she reached for the door and pulled at the handle. Here went nothing. As she stepped out of her car, she felt the warm air envelope her, the salty aroma of the sea mixed in with the delicious smell of appetizing food wafting out from Delmonico’s. Walking across the weatherworn wooden boards on the pier, she could hear the low chatter of diners sitting on the terrace overlooking the sea, and the gentle ebb and flow of waves as they lapped around the pier struts. She pushed the door open, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach, and walked up to the desk. While she waited for the maître d’, she couldn’t help but look around the room, trying to work out where Adam was sitting.
The restaurant was thronging, full of families and couples who enjoyed the rustic pasta dishes Delmonico’s was famous for. Waiters pushed their way through the double doors, their hands raised up with trays of delicious foods balanced on them. The maître d’ spotted her, and nodded before walking over. “Good evening, madam. Do you have a reservation?”
There was a huge lump in her throat. She swallowed but it refused to move. Once again she considered running back outside and high-tailing it to her car.
But Adam really had seemed like a nice guy. She hated to let him down.
“I’m meeting somebody, Adam Michaelson. He made the reservation.”
The maître d’ ran his finger down the clipboard he’d picked up. “
Mr. Michaelson. Ah yes.” He glanced up at Ember. “He hasn’t arrived yet, but let me take you over to your table and I’ll get you a drink while you wait.”
“He’s not here?” She glanced surreptitiously at her watch. It was fifteen minutes past eight. If she was being fashionably late, what did that make him?
“We have a lovely little table for the two of you out on the terrace.” The maître d’ started walking, and Ember followed him, still frowning at the thought of the time. He weaved his way through the tables inside the restaurant building itself, leading her to the open sliding doors that led to the terrace. Strings of tiny lights were fixed to the covered deck, adding to the romantic atmosphere; these tables were coveted by locals and tourists alike – with their view of the darkening ocean and white tipped waves.
“Would you like the wine list?” the maître d’ asked her.
“No thank you. Just a bottle of sparkling water.”
“How about some appetizers? We have a fantastic seafood platter on special tonight.”
Ember had no idea if Adam Michaelson liked seafood or not. “I think I’ll wait for the other guest.” She smiled at the maître d’, wondering if he knew she was on a blind date. He must have seen it all before, yet she couldn’t help but feel like there was a flashing lit-up arrow above her head, making everybody look at her.
“Wonderful. I’ll have your drink brought over. And I hope you enjoy your meal.”
