Champagne Toast (30 page)

“
Go for it, but I promise nothing.  I still might bite your head off.
We
’
ll just see what you ask
.” 
I
’
m flirting.  Wow, it
’
s been a long time since I
’
ve done this.  But, Bree
’
s right
. . .
it does feel kind of good.

“
What kind of photos do you enjoy taking?
”
he asks, guarding himself by quickly putting his laptop in front of his face.  I push down on the machine and peek over to see him smiling at me.  It
’
s a nice smile.

“
That question is acceptable, don
’
t worry.  Um, I love to take shots where the lighting is key
,
and I don
’
t just mean sunsets; that
’s so
cliché
.
I love when the light is peering above something, like a tree or even an animal.  And I love faces.  But, I don
’
t want to work at Sears and take people
’
s portraits.  I
’
m more fascinated by all of the emotions one face can show in a person
’
s features
.” 
Jason is studying me as I talk.
“
I
’
m rambling, aren
’
t I?
”

“
No, not at all
.” 
He smiles at me and for the first time in years, I feel a tiny flutter in my stomach.  I think I might be interested in this guy. Just a little bit.

“
Excuse me,
” a
woman calls from the other end of the bar.

“
Just a sec,
”
I say to Jason, touching his hand lightly before walking down to the woman to take her order.  Without meaning to, I glance at Jason, who
’s watching me with a grin
on his handsome face.  It
’
s unnerving and exciting at the same time.

Jason drains his beer and rises from his barstool
as I return
.  I
’
m shocked to realize that I
’
m disappointed.  He op
ens his wallet and pays
for his drinks.  But, then he takes a business card out of his wallet and places it on the bar.  I look down at the card and then at Jason with an inquisitive stare.

“
I
’
d like to take you out sometime, if that
’
s ok,
”
Jason says.

“
I think that could be arranged,
”
I smirk.

“
Well, I
’
m gonna take off.  I need to get some writing done and if I stay here, I
’
ll be too distracted.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I say, glancing around the bar,
“
it
’
s getting pretty loud.
”

“
I meant by you, Kate.  I need to get some work done tonight, and if I stay here it
’
ll be impossible.  Maybe you can distract me Saturday night?
”
he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Grabbing my phone, I pretend to check my calendar, knowing full well that I have absolutely no plans this entire weekend.  I don
’
t want to seem too eager, and I
’
m feeling a little flustered at the fear and excitement currently flooding my veins. I haven
’
t done this in so long.  It used to come so easy, but now
. . .

“
Yeah, that should work fine.  Wanna meet here around 7:00?
”
I ask.

“
Sounds great, I
’
ll see you soon.
”

“
Bye, T-shirt guy,
”
I say, tilting my head to the side before turning around and bending down to pick up a napkin that had fallen near my feet.

When I turn back to him, he has a goofy grin on his face.  I laugh out loud, realizing he was checking out my ass!  My laughter snaps him out of whatever daydream he was having.  He turns three different shades of red before waving good-bye and heading towards the door.  Maybe I
can
do this.

***

Two nights later, I arrive at the bar, looking nice without trying too h
ard to impress.  A pretty black
satin tank top with ruffles near the neckline and linen pants.  I have no idea where Jason and I will be going, so I
’
m trying to keep it simple.

All day I
’
ve had this feeling of dread.  He seems like a nice guy and we
’
re both artistic, which is appealing.  But, the last two days have brought nothing but thoughts of Evan.  Every time I look at the table next to the pool table, my heart skips a beat.  Every time a guy who even remotely resembles him takes a seat at the bar, I lose my breath.  It
’
s infuriating and terrifying and it makes me wonder if maybe I
’
m not ready to date.  Not yet.

Jason walks in just a couple minutes after I do.  He has another crazy t-shirt peeking out from underneath his plaid button down.  I gesture for him to show me the rest of the shirt and he unbuttons the three top buttons.

I laugh at the shirt, which simply says,
“
Sweep The Leg
”
with a picture of that crazy actor who played the Cobra Kai sensei in The Karate Kid.
God, I hated that guy. 

“
Nice shirt, I feel like I
’
m learning a lot about you just from your t-shirts.  So, you
’
re a Karate Kid fan now, too?
”
I ask as Jason stands before me.  He looks pleased with himself as he adjusts his glasses and begins to button up his plaid woven shirt.

“
Now, this
. . .
this I
’
m proud of.  You have no idea how many stupid websites I had to go on to find this shirt.  There
’
s a lot of Cobra Kai stuff, but this
. . .
this one makes me proud
.” 
He beams.

“
Whatever floats your boat, T-shirt guy,
”
I reply, rolling my eyes. 

Can I really consider dating a guy who wears a shirt that says
,
“
Sweep the Leg
”
?  Evan would never be caught dead in something like that.  Then again, Evan could wear just about anything and look sexy.  I look at
him
and wonder if I would find him even remotely interesting without his crazy clothes.  Yesterday, it seemed like an icebreaker.  But, tonight, it feels like a crutch.

“
Are you ready to go?
”
Jason asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“
Where are we going?
”

“
I thought we could grab a bite at the tapas place a few blocks away.
”

“
I love that place,
”
I say, impressed in Jason
’
s choice of restaurant.  Tapas Barcelona is one of the best restaurants in Evanston.

“
Oh good, because I made a reservation.
We
’
d better get over there before they give our table away,
”
he says, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me towards the door.
A slight cringe runs through my body as he touches me and I know this isn
’
t how I
’
m supposed to feel right now.  I should have butterflies in my stomach, my heart should be racing and I should be hanging on every word my date says.  Instead, I
’
m daydreaming about Evan.  I
’
m thinking about his stupid Packers sweatshirts that he
’
d leave all over my apartment, or how he
’
d feed me marinara sauce when he
’
d cook spaghetti.  Half the time he cooked, we ended up having sex on the kitchen floor.  Evan made my body come alive, he made my heart flutter, he made me feel things that no one ever has.  And even though Jason seems like a really nice guy, I already know this isn
’
t going to work.  I know when I feel something for someone, and I
’
m just not feeling it.  When we flirted in the bar, it was exciting, but now everything has fallen flat for me.  Deep down, I know I
’
m not really giving him a chance and I
’
m so pissed at myself for it.  And I
’
m pissed at Evan.
It
’
s all his goddamn fault. 

We arrive at Tapas Barcelona and are seated at our table within minutes.  Jason and I select a couple of different dishes to start with, and it turns out that we agree on almost everything on the menu.  We both like goat cheese, we both love figs wrapped in prosciutto, and neither of us has any interest in ordering the tuna cannelloni.  But, I just
don
’
t
care.
 
I don
’
t care that we both like goat cheese, I don
’
t care that we
’
re both passionate about our art.  I don
’
t care that he
’
s brave enough to wear a New Kids on the Block t-shirt to a bar while writing a suspense novel on his laptop.
I just don
’
t care.  But, I wish I did.

We cover all of the basics in our conversation.  We learn a little about each other
’
s families and our upbringing.  We share our favorite movies and songs.  That initial spark I felt at the bar, that tiny flutter in my stomach has drifted away.
Something is missing.  Something that
’
s so desperately needed. 

“
Can I be honest with you?
”
I ask Jason as we
’
re finishing dessert.

“
Uh oh,
”
Jason says, wiping his chin with his cloth napkin.

“
I think you
’
re a really nice guy, but, I
’
m just getting out of a really intense relationship and I
’
m not sure I
’
m ready to date,
”
I say as honestly as possible.

“
Wow, um, well, when did you break up with this person?
”
Jason asks, perching his elbows on the table and leaning his chin into his hands.

“
Two years ago,
”
I say, wincing as I hear the words come out of my mouth.  Jason laughs nervously.

“
Two years?
”
he asks, looking confused.

“
Yeah, I guess saying it out loud makes me sound ridiculous, huh?
”

“
No, it makes it seem like you really went through hell,
”
he says, taking a sip of red wine.

“
Yeah, it was bad.  I
’
d rather not get into the details or anything.  But, I don
’
t want to lead you on.  I thought I could do this, but I can
’
t
,” 
I say, taking my wallet out of my purse and throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

“
Wait, wait,
”
Jason says, holding his arm out towards me and gesturing for me not to get up from my seat.  I blush, completely mortified at my behavior.

“
Just because you
’
re not ready to really date anyone, doesn
’
t mean you have to leave like that.  We can still finish our meal, and you can let me walk you home like a gentleman.
”

“
Why would you want to do that? I lead you on
—”

“
No, you didn
’
t,
”
Jason interrupts,
“
you accepted a date. That
’
s all it is, a date.  And it
’
s not working out for you and I totally get that.
”