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“What if I am?” Perhaps honesty is the best way forward. Let’s see how long this nimble courage lasts me. I won’t rely on whiskey anymore. “I mean… what are we doing here?”
“Whatever you want us to do,” he says, a smile testing his lips.
“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”
“Olivia, I can assure you that I’m as serious as I’ll ever be. Whatever you want tonight to be between us, you’ll be the one to decide. I’m giving you absolute freedom in every possible sense, with zero professional repercussions for whatever you choose.”
A faint gasp parts from my throat. “Wow. Okay…”
“I can’t be the only one sensing this… this thing between us,” he replies, raising an eyebrow.
Slowly, I shake my head.
“But it would be sorely unethical for me to make the first move. And there are certain things I think you’ll be better off doing yourself. Maybe this is another one of those growth moments. For the both of us.”
The waiter comes over, and I am utterly relieved since I have no idea how to carry on with that side of the conversation. All I want to do is jump over the table and straddle Will and run my hands through his curly black hair and…Stop, Olivia. Deep breath. Come on.Something is clearly happening tonight, and Will wants me to take the reins.
“Have you decided on your order?” the waiter asks, ready to take notes. “The fish is fantastic, and I will happily recommend a white wine to go with it.”
“I’ll have the veal,” Will says, then looks at me.
“Salad,” I manage.
“Salad?” he replies.
“Yeah, I’ll have the Caesar salad, thanks.” As if I care about food right now.
“Got it,” the waiter says, offering a flat, unimpressed smile. “And to drink?”
“I’m thinking we could try the house red,” Will replies. “It’s from your vineyard, right?”
“Oh yeah, you’ll love it. Any entrees while you wait for the main course?”
Will and I shake our heads at the same time. I think we’re both thinking the same thing, though neither wants to say the quiet part out loud. Not yet, anyway.
As soon as the waiter is gone, the air begins to crackle with mischievous energy as I look around, realizing that Will booked us at the farthest table on the terrace. There’s even a massive potted Yucca tree partially obscuring the view of other patrons seated nearby, so they can’t see us very well. Could that have been on purpose? Will does like coming in hot with his homework done.
He leans forward, lips stretching over his pearly whites. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous. Actually, no, wait, scratch that. I am nervous. I’m gonna own it.”
“Attagirl.” He laughs.
“I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date. Which I guess this is?”
“Do you want it to be a date, Olivia?” Will’s smile takes on a whole new meaning while I sink into my chair and wonder how the hell I’m gonna dig myself out of this hole. “I told you, tonight is whatever you want it to be.”
“Do you?” I ask, my heart beating a thousand times a minute.
He leans back into his seat. As if summoned to further intensify the moment, the waiter returns with a bottle of red which he first pours for Will to try. Of course, he takes his sweet time tasting it, as if to tease me, as if to make the waiting even more unbearable.
Finally, he nods, and the waiter pours for both of us. Once he’s gone and I realize I’ve not taken my eyes off Will’s for even a second, I hear the heavy exhale leaving my chest. I’d been holding on to that breath for quite a while.
“To answer your question, Olivia… yes.”
And the weirdest kind of silence follows as I try to figure out what I’m going to do next. He says I’ve got the power, but I have no idea what the hell I’m gonna do with it. A long gulp of red wine is supposed to grease the engine of my brain into formulating something coherent and perhaps witty, but that system seems to be failing.
“I don’t have a snappy comeback for that,” I mutter. “Turns out I haven’t mastered the dating game to a point where I could lead such an interaction.”
