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“Is that what you think? That I’ve been trying to make you feel little?” He doesn’t answer me, but I can hear his acquiescence in his silence. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I just try to be very frank with you. Though I think you’ve created something great withMed-Fields, it’s also true that your devotion to the past and how things have always been done could lead to the collapse of the company. I don’t want that to happen, and it will if I dance around issues. I choose to be blunt instead.”
“OK… That makes sense…” He is silent for a moment before he rejoins me in the here and now. “Anyway, enough of that. I didn’t ask you out so we could talk about work. I had hoped we’d get to know each other a little better.”
I smile at him. “You’re right. So back to what we were talking about. Why did you drop out of med school?”
He sits back in his chair and huffs. “I don’t know, I guess my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I realized that I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. It took a while for me to understand, but I had always wanted to be a surgeon for the prestige. It’s not like I had a burning desire to heal people. I just wanted the social capital and the lifestyle that went along with that profession. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I wasn’t truly happy.
“So, I did some soul-searching. I came to the conclusion that business was it for me. I had always had a mind for it. So I took a few business classes, and considering all the knowledge I had about medicine already, I figured I might as well merge the worlds of medicine and business. Long story short, here I am.”
“You’ve lived such an exciting life.”
He shrugs. “I guess I have, but I’d actually like to hear more about you. I don’t know a lot about you and I want that to change.”
I shrug. “I know I shouldn’t say this about myself, but I’m quite boring. There isn’t much to know.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
I laugh. “No, I’m being serious. Moving to Boston this year has been the most daring thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“OK… So what were you like as a girl?” he asks.
“I have a Type A personality. So even as a child, I was very driven and focused. I was good at school and was involved in a million extracurricular activities. I guess that’s where I might be a little interesting.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Well, I can play the piano and the guitar. I can speak French, Spanish, Mandarin and a little bit of Swahili, but only conversationally. I’m also pretty good at soccer, although I haven’t played in a couple of years.”
He chuckles. “And you said you’re not interesting. How is the fact that you speak four foreign languages uninteresting? I mean, Swahili? That’s pretty random.”
“I’ve always liked the sound of it.” I blush. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t see it.”
He shakes his head with a smile. “Well, I do…” He holds my stare for a long moment until my heart is damn near ready to burst out of my chest. It’s too intense so I look away. He clears his throat then continues. “Why did you feel the need to rack up all these achievements? Did your parents make you?”
“Oh, no they didn’t. My parents are the most chill people you’ll ever meet. In fact, they told me to slow down on the extracurricular activities plenty of times, but I didn’t listen. My parents are amazing and have always been supportive of me.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m always happy when I hear that someone has had a happy childhood. That’s not too common, and it warms my heart to know that you did.”
I’m about to ask him about his childhood when our waiter comes to our table and puts our food in front of us. My mushroom risotto is placed in front of me, and Glen’s chicken tetrazzini is set down in front of him.
The food looks amazing. My eyes keep bouncing between my plate and Glen’s. I don’t know how they’ve managed to do it, but they’ve made risotto look elegant, a dish that is pretty rustic-looking on its best day. It doesn’t stop there. My mind is blown after I take my first bite. The flavors that dance across my tongue are amazing. It’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted. All the ingredients are balanced and complement each other.
A deep moan escapes me as I chew. When I open my eyes, Glen has frozen with a fork full of his pasta hovering in the air on its way to his mouth. He’s staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing…” He says, and then starts eating.
We spend the latter part of our dinner much like we did the first part, getting to know each other better.
Before I am ready the night comes to an end. Glen pays the bill and then we walk outside and wait for the valet to fetch his car.
We’re standing side by side when he finally says, “I had such a good time. I’m kind of bummed that it’s ending.”
“Oh my God, me too.” I place a hand on his upper arm.
He looks into my eyes and I see something there. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it’s intense.
“Please, feel free to say no, but would you like to come over to my place?”
