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“Don’t get too used to me being nice,” she grumbles, but even she can’t stop a small smile from peeking out.
Leading her to my car, I do the gentlemanly act of opening up the passenger side door for her, getting a quiet thank you before rushing around to the other side.
The restaurant I’m taking her to usually requires a reservation about a week in advance, but I got lucky and was able to snag one.
When we get there, I park the car and easily maneuver us past the small line of people queued up in hopes of getting in, which will ultimately prove to be futile. After confirming our reservation, the hostess signals a waiter over, who leads us to a table for two, placed in a more secluded part of the restaurant.
The dim lighting and the candle flickering in the center of the table make the ambiance more romantic than Maria must have been expecting. Her eyes dart around as we get seated, me, of course, pulling her chair out for her.
“Have you been here before?” I ask as I pick up my menu to look over the options, Maria following suit.
“No, this is my first time,” she tells me, her voice tinged with nerves.
Once we place our orders - calamari to start, the ribeye for me, and the salmon for Maria - I get into what thisnot-dateis actually about.
“So, tell me, what will I be doing while volunteering?” I ask, taking a sip from my glass of wine, having ordered a bottle of red the moment we sat down.
I watch as Maria takes a sip of her wine, making a face of pleasure, which I’m glad to see, considering the last time I saw her drinking alcohol, she didn’t seem to enjoy it.
“Well, I was thinking that for the first visit, you can just tell the kids what it is that you do. While what you have to say may not take that long, it will inevitably be followed up by a series of imaginative and inquisitive questions that you will have to answer in an age-appropriate way,” she tells me easily.
“And after that?” I inquire, finding the idea cute despite my earlier disdain for having to participate in this.
“It will vary. I have collected a variety of books about different professions that we’ll be reading, some coloring activities, opportunities for the kids to act out what they want to be when they grow up, and we are even taking a field trip,” she lists off, the smile on her face growing as she continues to talk about it.
While I can’t imagine being a teacher - kids not being my forte - I can tell that Maria loves it. There seems to be a twinkle in her eyes as she talks about her job.
“That actually sounds pretty nice. I’m sure the kids will have a great time,” I tell her earnestly, reveling in the smile that appears on her face.
“I hope so,” she says, seeming to be more excited about the activities than she’s letting on.
When our food gets here, my mouth waters at the sight of the ribeye. I thank my lucky stars that I was able to get a reservation for this place.
“Did you always want to be a teacher?” I ask, wanting to get to know her better. We’ll be working together, after all. Or least, that’s how I justify my curiosity to myself.
“Yeah, actually. I have wanted to be a teacher since I was a kid. My dad tried to steer me in a few other directions, but I was adamant about doing this,” she explains before adding, “What about you? Were you always interested in law?”
I only have to think about it for a moment before answering, “Not really. It just sort of felt practical. And I enjoy money well enough.”
“That makes sense. It was probably my dad’s line of reasoning as well,” she muses, grabbing a few pieces of calamari.
I try my best to keep the conversation professional, but the desire to see Maria blush is too tempting.
“So, tell me Maria. You can’t have me believe that you aren’t seeing anyone,” I start, deciding to jokingly add, “It’s the only real explanation I can think of for why you turned me down at the bar the other night.”
“Yeah, it had nothing to do with your strong come on,” she scoffs, but there’s a slight tinge of amusement in her voice, so I keep pushing forward.
“It could have been fun,” I continue in a sing-song voice, knowing that I’m approaching territory I really shouldn’t with my boss’s daughter.
But it’s so hard to resist. Maybe it’s the hard-to-get attitude, or maybe it’s the fact that Maria is a very attractive woman, but I can’t help but feel entranced with the chase of it all.
At my words, I finally get a blush out of her, and I’m unable to contain a smile at how utterly cute she looks with it.
To my surprise, she mumbles a simple, “Maybe.” She seems unable to make eye contact with me.
“But really, simply for future notes, as I remember you saying in the elevator, you’ve been with plenty of guys. What made me so different from them? I can’t imagine that at least some of them didn’t come on as strong as me,” I press further, my interest only growing more piqued as her blush grows deeper.
She seems to be holding herself back from speaking, only making me lean in a little closer, tempted to hear what she has to say.
