AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Set in a building built in 1929, it’s one of her favorite bars in the city. She appreciates the classic design and modern touches and how the two blend perfectly, coming together in a beautiful and tasteful way.
Across the dining room, she can feel his eyes on her. Written on his face is this thought:Is it you?
The back and forth between them is a dance, candlelit, and also his choice. Briefly, she makes eye contact. A shy smile before she looks away, her eyes scanning the room, as though she too is looking for something she hasn’t already found and perhaps she is.
As for him, she knows he’s expecting a redhead. Someone mousy, quietly attractive. Someone with potential. Definitely not her.
He frowns slightly. Ali bets he’s thinking that his mind is playing tricks on him. There’s a familiarity about her, but she is nother. Or is she?Could she be?Could he be that goddamned lucky? Just this once. Could this be the opposite of the profile pic bait and switch? Instead of someone ten years and twenty pounds heavier, could things ever go the opposite way?
They can, Stan,she thinks. With a bit of effort.
No, he decides finally. She can see his decision in the twist of his mouth. Stan Reynolds does not believe he is that lucky. What a shame. He smiles and nods his head before turning back to the bar. It’s not a quick brush-off. His eyes linger, so he is not completely deterred. He’s meeting a woman, but he is not married to her, and if something better were to come along, he would not discount the opportunity.
Ali smiles back because this game they are playing is fun. After the week she’s had, she’s in the mood for a bit of that, and she likes that he does not shy away.
Her phone pings, a notification from the app, a new message. It’s one of hundreds she receives in a day. On a busy day, that is, and still usually no fewer than fifty on a slow one. This happens when you’re reasonably attractive and a professional. It helps for sure if you say you aren’t looking for anything serious, which is not a lie. She isn’t. It’s important to be honest, at least about the things that matter.
Ali is smart. People pick up on the big lies. The little ones, like the color of your hair, or your interests, those are interchangeable and can be easily manipulated. Her work has taught her many things, one of them being that people are naturally suspicious. Something she’s learned to use to her advantage.
She walks across the crowded restaurant, toward the bar where Stan is seated. The barstool next to him is empty, and she wonders briefly if he’s been saving it, or if it is mere luck, but in the end, she knows it doesn’t matter. A chance encounter that isn’t chance at all.
He looks down at his phone, although he is very much aware of her presence. He’s not intentionally ignoring her. He’s conflicted. The smart move would be to ask her to take the seat, strike up a conversation, make himself seem desirable, so that when the woman he is actually expecting shows up, he has a leg up.
But Stan here isn’t much of a forward thinker. He isn’t thinking about that. Ali knows he’s thinking about sex and the easiest way in which he might get it. He isn’t thinking long term, and that is exactly where she wants him.
When the bartender comes over, she orders her usual, a martini. Dirty. There’s a jazz band playing, and she too glances at her phone before placing it in her clutch. Then she swivels in her chair to face the band. Slowly, she sips her martini. And she waits.
Stan dips his fingers in the peanut bowl and shoves a few in his mouth. This tells her a lot about him, about what he’s like in bed. Careless. Confident. An interesting combination. She knows it’s odd that one could determine this much about a person based on a simple dip into a snack bowl, but she’s watched a lot of people. And of course, there’s his dating profile, chock full of information about all the other facets of his life.
He’s into rugby, and was married once, briefly. Never wants to do that again and who can blame him? The ex made out well, leaving poor Stan with the legal bills, a ton of insecurity, and a fair amount of disenchantment. That’s okay though. What has been torn down can easily be rebuilt.
“Can I get you another?” the bartender asks Stan. She glances over her shoulder at him, interested in his answer. He checks the time on his watch. A Rolex. Engraved on the bottom. It was a wedding gift from his ex, according to the life events on his Facebook page. Ali wonders why he still wears it, but she understands it’s not so much nostalgia as it is that Stan is the practical type and that makes her smile a little. A challenge. “I don’t think so. If she’s this late, it’s usually a sign.”
“There was an accident on Loop One,” she interjects. “Took me forever to get through.”
“She could have texted,” Stan says.
“Texting and driving is dangerous.”
“She could have called.”
“Still dangerous.”
He considers her. She’s not only piqued his interest visually, but intellectually. “Sure,” he says to the bartender, who is not nearly as taken with her, not for holding him up. “Might as well. I’ll take one more.”
“Better to have the glass half full,” she says, fingering the stem of her martini glass.
“And you,” he says. “Are you waiting for someone?”
He’s forward and she appreciates that. “Me? No. I’m here for the band.”
“Oh, yeah?” He points to the man playing bass. “That guy there—he’s my college roommate.”
So he is a bit of a forward thinker. Smart move. He suggested they meet at a place he’s familiar with, where he knows someone. She smiles, but she’s not surprised. It’s difficult to get to Stan’s level of wealth without a bit of intelligence. “You’ll have to introduce me.”
He nods. It’s an invitation but not an obvious one. It’s a challenge.
“You should text her.”
