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Meanwhile, I’ve been daydreaming about touching his bare chest and still have no idea what pizza he’s talking about.
We reach the restaurant and an amazing concoction of smells hit me when we walk in. The air is full of freshly made dough, roasted garlic, and spicy sausages. It brings me back to the streets of New York really. Getting that whole pizza experience.
Victor places a hand on my lower back and leads me to a booth near the back corner. His touch is like a small fire erupting, traveling downwards and sitting in my lower belly. Thank God it’s already warm in here, or the flush on my cheeks would be questionable.
I’m suddenly very aware of how long of a dry spell I’ve been in between all of the chaos in my life.
For the middle of the week the pizza place has a decent crowd. A lot of families.
“So, what’s your favorite type of pizza?” he asks me as I open one of the menus on the table. I notice he doesn’t grab one, just sits across from me with his hands folded.
“I don’t want to sound cliché,” I say as I put the menu down.
“But it’s New York style pizza, isn’t it?” he smirks, the little lines by his eyes pull together.
“What’s not to like?” I retort as our waitress drops off waters and takes our drink order. Victor gets a rum and Coke and I just get a Coke. Once she’s gone, I try to explain my love for simple pizza. “It’s hand-tossed thin crust pizza. Once slice is plenty. You just fold it and eat as you walk.”
“In New York, did you ever just sit and linger?” his head tilts as he asks me if I ever took a stroll in the park, slowed down. More like settled down.
“Let’s put it this way,” I try to look over the menu more as I gather my thoughts. “I worked for a very busy, well-established law firm in the heart of New York City. I don’t stop to smell the roses. I saw them and kept walking.”
“I get that.”
The waitress brings our drinks and takes our order. Luckily this place sells slices. I don’t think I can commit to a whole pizza without tasting a slice first. Victor orders three slices of various meat topped pizzas. I get one slice of classic margarita. It’s not New York, so no use in pretending.
“So where do you see yourself in the future?” he drawls out. I guess we’re diving into the serious bits of a second date. Where you’re still tip toeing around each other and barely scraping under the surface. This connection I feel with Victor though, I just want to tell him everything.
“If you had asked me this question six months ago, I would have said I’d be promoted alongside Jake when he accepted partnership.” Our pizza arrives and it smells heavenly. After a few bites and some silence between us. I ask Victor the same question.
“Honestly, I guess I thought I’d be married now and maybe have the start of a family. I know I work a lot but I plan to cut down on traveling once there’s a kid in the picture. I suppose even at my age, I’m still chasing that white picket fence, two kids and a dog dream.”
“How frequently do you actually travel?” I skip right over the kids and the family bit.
“Well ever since Marie quit flying, I’ve been doing all the traveling needed for the roastery. I used to do a lot of short trips. flying back and forth. It got old fast and so then I shifted things and decided to stay there during the busy season and come home the other half of the year.”
“I can see how that’s not conducive for a happy family situation,” I say while chewing. Pizza really brings out my bad habits.
“What is a happy family situation to you Sally?” He’s already an entire slice in despite our chatting.
“If I learned anything from my divorce, both people need to communicate their feelings and probably spend a decent amount of time together.”
He reaches out, covering my hand in his. He gently squeezes it.
“I appreciate you sharing. It’s his loss,” he pats my hand. I feel a pang in my chest, my heart still aches when I think of the divorce.
I know I should tell Victor about the infertility bit. He is up front about wanting kids and I know that’s just not in the cards for me.
Maybe if this gets serious.
It’s casual and we’re still getting to know each other. Victor is easy to talk to but until I see this as a more serious relationship, there’s no use in telling him. Or if sex were to come up, maybe then I’d tell him for the sake of sexual history or pregnancy risks.
Right now, we’re just on a second date.
No sex, no strings, just pizza and conversation.
We continue to eat and the conversation shifts to lighter topics like funny work stories and what I’ve enjoyed about Kastle Harbor. We consider getting dessert but ultimately, we skip it. After some back and forth he pays and I leave the tip.
As we head out, I notice it’s a lot colder than I anticipated. Victor offers to drive me home and I accept, eager to stay warm. When we get in his truck, he pulls a little bag out of his jeans pocket.
