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“I donotwant to play hard to get,” I deadpan. “Plus, he definitely only wants to be friends or business acquaintances.”
“Friends with benefits, maybe. Did you see him checking you out as we left?”Was he checking me out? “Does he have your number?”
“He has my card.”
“Mark my words, he wants more than a business relationship. Just be careful when he reaches out. By the way that man looks at you, he’s probably the kind of guy who jumps in with two feet.” Katie and I head home, with her words replaying in my head.
Chapter two
Emma
Inthelastmonth,I’ve run into Dylan no less than ten more times. Every luncheon, he sits at my table. Every mixer, he brings me a glass of wine or comes up with an excuse to talk to me. Healwaysfinds me. A few people have asked if we're dating—which is super awkward—but we both always just change the subject. I have no idea where we stand. The flirting is fun, but at this point we are friends at best and business contacts at worst.
I am in the middle of drafting an email to one of my clients, when my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Emma?” The voice on the other line is familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Yes, may I ask who’s calling?”
“Dylan,” he says as if I should know who he is. Of course, I knowexactlywho he is, but need to play it cool.
“Oh, hi, Dylan No-last-name.” My voice feels shaky but I am sure it’s just in my head.
He lets out a hearty laugh. “My apologies, I should have clarified. Dylan Alexander.”
“Oh hi. How may I help you?”
“Well, I wanted to see if you were available to grab a drink or dinner to…discuss a few things.”Wait, like a friend thing? Or a business thing? Or a date thing?
“Oh, um, sure. I think I have a few evenings free but my lunches are all booked up.” I am such a liar, I have zero lunches booked.Ball’s in your court, Dylan.If this is a date, his next move should make it obvious.
“Perfect. How about Thursday evening, after work? Maybe 5pm? I have a meeting that goes until 5. Hope that’s not too late?”Well, shoot. His next move wasnotobvious—this could still be just a work thing.
“Sure, that should be fine. My car will be at the train station, but I can grab it after work and meet you closer to 5:30?”
“That’s not necessary, my meeting is downtown and I could come pick you up.”Oh my God, is this a date?! No, there's no way, it still feels too stuffy.
“Sure, my work address is on my card, I’ll meet you downstairs around 5,” I reply.What on earth is this man thinking?
“Great, I’ll see you then. You’re sure you don’t have plans?” It’s an odd question for him to ask, I just told him I’m free.
“Nope, I’m available…See you Thursday.”
“Can’t wait,” he says as he hangs up. I stare at my phone, wondering what the hell just happened.
ThursdaycomesquickerthanI expected. When I look at my calendar, I now knowexactlywhy he double checked about my plans tonight—it’s Valentine's Day. I still can’t tell if this is a date or not, but I'm excited, no matter the outcome. I might walk away with a second date on the books, or a contract for an ad in the magazine.Win-win.
I make sure I'm downstairs a few minutes before 5, and he's right on time. He pulls up to the building and gets out of his car to open my door. I don’t know if it’s possible, but is he even more handsome than I remember? I haven’t seen him in a week, but it feels longer. A realization hits me—he doesn’t have a date tonight either.
On the drive to the restaurant, he asks me how my day was, and I ask him about his. He rattles off some sort of stock trading information that I can barely follow. So far, it's feeling very platonic. He didn’t comment on how pretty I look tonight, or any other complimentary first date things guys typically do. I’m starting to think I read this thing all wrong—maybe he’s just not that into me and it’s all business.
We decided a day or so ago to head to a local seafood restaurant that, in my opinion, is casual enough to grab dinner as a date, but fancy enough to buy him dinner if it’s a business meeting. I still have no clue what this is and wanted to be sure I’m covered either way.
Entering the restaurant, the host seats us at a table in the middle of the room. He sits across from me.Damn it, now I can’t avoid his dimples.As the waiter asks my drink order, I reply, “Gin and tonic with extra lime, please.”
I set my napkin on my lap and look up to find Dylan with a curious expression on his face. He pauses for a moment, his trademark dimples bigger than ever. Shaking his head with a smirk, he turns to the waiter, “Make that two, please.” Once our server leaves, I ask Dylan what that look was for. He laughs to himself and replies, “Nothing. You just…surprise me.” I smile back at him, feeling a little like he’s flirting with me.
