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“Yes, always, you?” I answer, deflecting the conversation back to him, which proves to be a good maneuver since he proceeds to tell me all about his work, the big clients he has, the large deals he has done, taking up the next fifteen minutes without drawing breath. I continue to smile and nod at the right times, but he is clearly elaborating to make himself look good.
“So, yeah, we've been really busy, talking to a few Wall Street guys just today, actually.” He continues to name drop, while my purse continues to vibrate.
“So sorry to interrupt, but have you had a chance to look over the menu?” the waiter asks, giving me a knowing look, and I mouth the words thank you to him when Adam isn’t paying attention.
“I would love the steak, please,” Adam replies first, folding his menu closed and passing it back to the waiter swiftly before taking another gulp of his wine.
I see the menu has pasta, and while I would normally stay away from anything like that on a first date, I already know there won’t be a second one. And it doesn’t help that I have been dreaming of pasta since Nico’s place on Saturday night.
“I will have the spaghetti, please,” I say with a smile.
“Good choice,” he says with a nod, before retreating again.
“So you like carbs, then?” Adam says as his eyes roam my body.
“Excuse me?” What is he implying...
“Not many women order pasta these days,” he says with a laugh while his eyes continue to assess my cleavage.
“Okay?” is all I say in reply, wanting nothing more than to get the pasta to go. Why I even found this man remotely attractive when we met weeks ago, I will never understand.
My purse vibrates again, and I can’t hold back my huff.
“Excuse me, I just need the bathroom,” I say and he nods, but again, doesn’t stand or offer to take my chair as I grab my purse and head for the bathrooms.
As I zig-zag through the restaurant, I pull out my phone on the way and answer it.
“What!” I blurt out more aggressively than I intended to.
“Where are you?” Nico demands, his voice sending a flash of heat through my body, even though my patience is running thin from my disastrous date.
“I’m off the clock, so it is none of your concern!” I duck around a dark corner, closer to the restaurant kitchen, which was a bad move because the chef here sings while he cooks. Not loud enough to hear in the restaurant, of course, but from where I am standing, I can hear him clear as day.
“Are you at Mario’s?” Nico asks, and I wonder how he knows. He always seems to know everything, though, so I shouldn’t be surprised. That fact has me even more annoyed.
“Yes, I am on a date, since you’re so interested. Is there anything else you want to know?” I hiss. This man is unbelievable.
“Who is he?” Nico asks, and he sounds angry. For the first time in our dance for dominance, I finally feel like I have an edge on him.
“He is none of your business. Just like the rest of my life,” I say sassily, my mood already lighter for pissing him off.
“You are my business, Emilia, and therefore, who you are with becomes my business,” Nico grits out, sounding harsher than I have ever heard him. I wonder if there is something else going on. I pause for a moment to consider my next words, but come to the conclusion that he doesn’t need details.
“Look, I will be happy to tell you all about it tomorrow over a morning coffee, but right now, I need to go. Bye-bye now.” I sing-song my sendoff, then hang up before anything else can be said. I just need this night to end, and then I’ll refocus on work, because clearly this dating game is just not for me.
I finally make it to the bathroom and take my time, hoping the food will be at the table by the time I get back and then I can eat and run.
As I head back to the table, I notice how full the restaurant is, large groups and couples, the waiters walking swiftly, looking after everyone, and I quickly take my seat.
“Did you know the chef here sings?” I ask Adam as I fix my napkin to try to introduce a conversation that’s not work-related into the evening.
“Urgh, I know, it is so annoying.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise because I actually thought it was pretty endearing.
“I thought it was nice, very authentic,” I say, and Adam huffs in response.
“I can’t think of anything worse than listening to an old man sing while making my dinner. That reminds me of this deal I closed today...” Adam progresses with another work conversation, and I tune out, my mind wandering back to the phone call with Nico and wondering what made him so upset.
The waiter comes and places our food down, breaking Adam’s conversation. As the basil aroma hits my nose, my mouth waters and my stomach rumbles. I am so busy looking at the plate of deliciousness in front of me, I pay no attention to the form standing next to me, only looking up as a dark shadow looms over the table.
