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My hair is still faintly damp from my shower when I leave the hotel room that same evening. It had taken a lot of scrubbing to get the sand out. Can’t say it was the most pleasant experience, considering my shoulders have burned just a tad, but now I’m clean and smelling of perfume and soap.
I glance at my phone. Only five minutes late.
The green sundress I’m wearing has a deep sweetheart neckline thatmightsay I’m going on a date, but it’s also casual enough for a friendly dinner with a fellow tourist.
Not that I know what I’m hoping for between those two options. But at least my dress can navigate them both for me.
Phillip is the one who suggested dinner after golf. He’d said it casually.We both have to eat, don’t we?
There was undeniable logic to those words.
I get in the elevator, heading down to the hotel lobby. The middle-aged couple already inside smiles at me in unison. “Good evening,” the woman says to me. She’s wearing a red top with a rhinestone collar.
I nod back. “Good evening.”
Her smile turns conspiratorial. “This is just the most beautiful resort, isn’t it?”
“Truly the best. It’s stunning here,” I say.
The man puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We’re on our second honeymoon,” he says. Their accent sounds midwestern, but it’s hard to place for sure.
His wife nods, her eyes sparkling. “Renewed our vows just last week.”
God, they’re everywhere.
But I just smile at them. “Congratulations!”
I can’t blame any of the honeymooners anymore, really. This is one of the best resorts to travel to after tying the knot. Hadn’t that been what I’d wanted to do myself?
Phillip is already at the restaurant when I arrive, leaning against one of the columns that frame the entrance. He still hasn’t shaved, and the five o’clock shadow darkens his already-tanned face. But he’s changed into a button-down linen shirt. Sadly, it gives me no clue as to the date or the non-dateness of our dinner because, as typical, it’s either that or a polo with him. Is the man allergic to non-collared shirts?
The kiss from last night is still unacknowledged. It’s hovered in the air around us all day, a memory unspoken.
“Hey,” Phillip says. His eyes dip down in a sweep of my dress, and my skin flushes under his gaze. “Let’s grab a seat.”
A server shows us to our table, lets us order drinks, and then we’re quiet as we read our separate menus. The table is close to the ocean, next to the waves breaking against the boardwalk, just like our first dinner.
My heart is beating fast. He’s not a stranger now, not like he’d been in this very restaurant on that first night.
“I’m having fish tonight,” he says. The drinks have arrived, standing between us like sentinels. “Just letting you know.”
I meet his amused gaze over the edge of my menu. “I kinda berated you for getting the steak when we met, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” he says, but it sounds like he’s enjoying the memory. “You did.”
“I’m so easygoing.”
“You know, that’s the first adjective I’d use to describe you.”
“Hmm. And what’s the second?”
He drums his fingers against the table for a long couple of beats. “Curious.”
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. “That wasn’t your immediate choice, though.”
His eyes meet mine. “No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”
“What’s the real answer?”
