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“Okay, yes, thank you,” I manage to squeak out. “If you get stuck for ideas, though, let me know. It’s my hometown, after all, so I’d be happy to—”
“No, no. It’s Josh’s hometown, too, remember? If I get stuck, I’ll ask him for suggestions.” Henn chuckles at my gaping expression. “You said you like surprises. Well, as luck would have it, I love giving them. Especially to someone as amazing as you.”
He’s rendered me speechless. What the fuck is this? I’ve never experienced it before. What’s happening?
“Here we are,” our waiter says, appearing out of nowhere with two helpers. Apparently, Josh has ordered a slew of after-dinner liqueurs to be poured for all of us.
“I thought we’d have ourselves a little tasting,” Josh explains.
And off we go. Liquids are poured into crystal glasses, and foofy explanations are provided by our waiter. With each new offering, our foursome engages in energetic conversation about our various opinions, until finally, after the last liquid has been served and tasted and the wait staff begins clearing the table yet again, Josh and Kat slide into another intimate conversation. Which means Henn and I do the same.
“What’d you think of that last one?” Henn whispers conspiratorially.
I grimace. “Honestly, it tasted like rubbing alcohol with a splash of honey to me.”
Henn chuckles. “I thought the same thing. I guess this means I can scratch liqueur tasting off my list of potential activities for us in Seattle.”
I giggle. “I’m grateful for the experience tonight, but I don’t think I’m in any danger of becoming addicted to liqueur. I’ve got plenty of other guilty pleasures.”
Henn waggles his eyebrows. “Oooh. Tell me more.”
“Sorry, my guilty pleasures aren’t all that exciting. Books. Tickets to live shows—both music and comedians. Oh, and makeup and skincare stuff. I can’t resist outrageously priced, beautifully packaged bottles of goop that smell amazing. That’s about it.”
“What’s a recent show you went to that was particularly memorable?”
I list off several shows. “Oh, and I saw this amazing band that’s always been a favorite of my mother’s. We went as her birthday present, and they were so amazing live. They Might Be Giants.”
“I love TMBG! My dad introduced me to them.”
“No way.”
“‘Birdhouse in Your Soul’ is a masterpiece.”
“It is! When I heard them do it at the concert, it instantly became one of my all-time favorites.”
“Mine, too.”
“Nobody ever knows that song.”
“My dad played it all the time. As a kid, I loved hearing a song about a glowing, birdie nightlight because I was terrified of the dark.”
“Me, too.”
“And then, as I got older, I realized, whoa, the song is actually a love song. The little birdie nightlight was looking for his birdhouse—his soulmate.” Henn shrugs. “Or at least, that’s how I interpret the song now as an adult.”
I can barely breathe. “Me, too,” I whisper, my heart clanging. “That’s what I said to my mother and sister after the concert. My sister totally agreed with me, but my mother told me I was reading way too much into the lyrics.”
“What? It’s all right there, for fuck’s sake! The birdie wants the listener to build a birdhouse in their soul. What else could that mean, if not a reference to soulmates?”
“I couldn’t agree more. It’s all right there, for fuck’s sake.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Well, this settles it. This man was created in a factory, especially for me. No man I’ve ever dated has ever heard of They Might Be Giants or their quirky little New Wave bop from the nineties, let alone understood its deeper meaning and loved it. How is this man real and not a figment of my fantasies?
I take a sip of wine. “So, what are your guilty pleasures, Henn?”
“Anything computer- or tech-related. Gadgets. Accessories. Upgrades. I’m totally addicted. Also, travel.”
“Gah. I’m jealous. I’ve never been outside of the States, except to Canada. Have you gone to lots of cool places?”
Henn nods. “I love scrolling through websites that offer cheap flights to faraway places and then dropping everything on a dime when I find a smoking-hot deal.”
“That sounds amazing. Do you travel by yourself?”
“Mostly. If not, then I’m usually with Josh and/or Reed. Why not, right? I can stare at a computer screen in Morocco or Bali as easily as I can do it in my shitty-ass apartment in LA.”
“God, I wish I had a job like that. I’ve been saving for a trip forever, but my salary is shit and vacation days are hard to come by.”
“You can’t work remotely?”
I shake my head.
Henn grimaces. “Sounds like you need a new job.”
“I know. I’m actively looking.” I glance at Kat across the table. She’s still mesmerized by Josh. “Please, don’t tell Kat I said that. Leaving her would break my heart. I’d only do it if the job were literally my dream job.”
“What would your dream job look like?”
