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I clear my throat and ask, “So what kind of car is this anyway?”
His eyes light up. “This baby is a Rolls-Royce Phantom. It’s my current favorite.”
I laugh. “Don’t tell me you have a three-story car garage filled with cars or something?”
He just laughs back and says, “Not yet! But it’s good to have goals.”
“Where are you taking me?” I ask. “It’s Monday, so wherever we go, we’ll probably have the place to ourselves.”
He nods. “We are going to Charles River’s Esplanade.”
“Oh nice!” I smile. “I like it out there. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. Don’t tell me you planned a picnic for usbabe?”
He snorts. “It’s a sports bar, actually. I hope you don’t mind.”
I just shake my head and rub my forehead, knowing I don’t really have much of a choice. I mentally tell myself to choose where we go next time.
Harvey turns up the volume and as I listen to classic rock music, I lean my head back and look out the window as we drive.
It doesn’t take long before we reach Charles River’s Esplanade, and I can’t help but feel calm and tranquil as it comes into view. The river looks almost magical reflecting the muted purple, pink, and dark blue colors of the setting sun.
When he pulls into a parking garage, reality hits again, and I check my purse to make sure I brought my pen and notebook.
After he parks, I step out and we start walking out together. He surprises me by reaching out a hand. When I look at him with confusion, he just shrugs, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Might as well start practicing now.”
When his fingers interlace with mine, I shiver as I feel the rough callouses on his hand. It reminds me of when I shook hands with him when I met him for the first time.
He looks down. “Are you cold?”
I’m glad it’s getting dark and hope he can’t see the reddening of my cheeks. I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”
He nods, “Yes girl, you are.”
I just snort and shake my head as we walk down the street and over a few blocks until we reach the bar.
Right before we go in, he leans down and says, “This is one of my favorite places. I’ve been coming here since I was old enough to drink.”
The place is filled with merry patrons, fueled by beer, greasy food, and the loud sportscasting on the TVs. At this hour, a soccer match is happening.
A very bored host waits for the next clients at the door, and after stifling a yawn, he says, “Please come with me.”
“Busy day today?” I ask the host.
“Ugh, same as always,” he says, completely lacking the will to pull a chair out as we reach the table. He just points to it. “The menus are on the table. What are you two going to drink?”
“Just a coke. I’m driving,” Harvey says, opening the folded menu.
“Make mine cherry!” I say.
“Alright, I’ll let your waiter know…” And he goes out and about, dragging his feet and barely moving his arms while walking.
“Somebody needs a Zoloft,” Harvey says, watching as he goes.
I hide my smile behind my hand. “I’m guessing someone is a failed thespian too.”
Harvey looks at me and rolls his eyes. “From what Parker said, you graduated top of your class. Doesn’t sound like a failure to me.”
