Me: I thought I was going to die. I was so embarrassed, and then my whole body was shaking, and I was afraid that I was going to trip with these stupid heels that I decided would be a good idea to wear tonight.
I look down at the black shoes I bought for my cousin’s wedding last year and decided to dress it up tonight. The minute I put them on, I felt the pinch in my baby toe, but I figured why not.
Julia: What if he is and is lying to you???
I gasp and turn to look back at the table and see that he’s eating a burger as he scrolls on his phone. His eyes never look up.
Me: Very doubtful. He is definitely not dressed for a date. He is wearing a baseball hat, for heaven’s sake. Even if he was Zander, would he show up on a date looking like he didn’t care?
Julia: hmmm…
I look back over and take another look at him.
Me: He looks like he just got out of the gym. There is no way he would show up for a date in sneakers. Don’t you want to make a good impression?
Julia: He could be sizing you up. Maybe see you, say damn she’s hot, and then I don’t know, make an excuse and then meet you again when he’s all dressed up.
Me: How would any of that make sense since I saw his face? I would remember his face.
Julia: I don’t know. I’ve never done the whole blind date because people are crazy out there.
Me: Thanks for all of your uplifting comments.
I press send and take another sip of my drink.
Me: Seriously, how long do I give him to show up?
Julia: How late is Mr. Blind Date?
I look at the clock.
Me: Eighteen minutes.
Julia: One second, let me check and see if there are any accidents with casualties.
“Oh, good God,” I say and then look over to see the hot guy on his phone again.
“Excuse me.” I hear the hostess and turn my head, picking it up, wondering if I spot someone waiting at the door, but there is only a couple. The whole place is jam-packed. Not one table seems to be free. “I’m going to need to seat,” she says.
“Of course,” I say, the heat running up my neck as I try not to make eye contact with her. I grab my purse off my lap and push away from the bar, taking my phone in my hand. Walking back to the front door, I keep my head down, afraid to look up and see the stranger watching me do another walk of shame. I push the hair back from my face once I get to the front door and go to the corner.
My hands tremble as I look back at my phone, trying not to focus on the sting of tears working their way up to my eyes. I blink away faster and faster to push it back.
My hands are clammy from sweat and nervousness as I pull up the text thread between Julia and me, taking a huge deep breath in.
Me: I’m giving him fifteen more minutes, and then I’m out.
Chapter 5
Michael
My eyes keep flying back to the bar every ten seconds, and I have to tell myself to knock that shit off. When she walked away from the table, I took a long look at her ass. And I mean long, her blond hair swaying left to right as she walked.
When she stood in front of me, I could tell she was nervous, and then when I said I wasn’t Zander, I could feel that she was mortified. She put on a brave face and then turned around. I spotted her a couple of minutes later, walking back to the bar and sitting down. She looked around a couple of times, but she was mostly on her phone, her fingers going crazy. The restaurant is packed to the brim, and I’m happy I came when I did. I’m also happier that no one knows who I am.
Spotting the hostess, I follow her with my eyes as she zigzags her way over to the bar. She stops next to the blue-eyed girl, and then I see her smile and push away from the bar, walking to the front door.
Maybe Zander finally arrived, I think to myself, looking at my phone and seeing that it’s seven forty-five. The asshole is forty-five minutes late, and he didn’t think to call her. I shake my head as the waitress comes over and hands me the small black folder with the bill inside. I take out my credit card and place it inside. My eyes focus on the entrance to see if the hostess comes back with the blonde.
I push away from the table before I even know what I’m doing and stop at the hostess stand. My eyes roam, and I see the blonde standing in the corner, facing out, with her arms crossed over her chest. Mind your own business, my head screams while something else screams, go get ’em, cowboy.
The hostess spots me and smiles at me as I walk past her. “Are you still waiting?” My voice comes out higher than I wanted it to come out. She turns, and I can see the tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says, trying to blink away the tears, and I know that is what she’s doing because I’ve seen Alex do it enough times in my life.
“You’re still waiting for Zander?” I ask, putting my hands in my pockets before I do something stupid like pull her in for a hug.
“I was,” she answers, putting her phone in her purse, “but I’m officially done waiting.” She tries to shrug it off, and I have a chance to look at her up close. His lips are full and plump and are dying to be kissed.
“Why don’t you come and let me buy you a drink?” I say the words before my brain even registers what’s coming out of my mouth.
The blonde stares at me with her mouth open, and I notice how slender her neck is. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” she says, shaking her head and trying to laugh it off. I can tell she’s nervous. “Now that would be even sadder.”
“Please,” I say. “Let me do this.”
“I’m not taking a pity drink.” She shakes her head.
“It’s not a pity drink.” I smirk when her eyebrows shoot up. “I have a sister, and if she was stood up, I would want someone to make her feel better.”
She folds her arms over her chest, pushing her tits higher, and I can see the swell of her breasts, my mouth waters. “If your sister got stood up, you would want a stranger to buy her a drink?”
I listen to the words and grimace, making her laugh, the sound making my cock perk up. “Okay, fine.” Taking my hands out of my pockets, I hold them up. “I would probably hunt down the guy.”
“Probably?” she says, shaking her head and looking down. When she looks up again at me, it’s like time stands still.
“Okay, fine.” I laugh. “I would probably hunt him down, and it would not end well.” I’m about to say something else when commotion from the side makes me turn my head, and I see my waitress there with my credit card in her hand.
“Oh, thank God,” she says. “I thought you forgot your card.” She walks over to me and holds the black folder with the bill in it.
“Actually,” I say, looking at her and then turning to look at the blonde who has her back to the window. “I was just getting my friend,” I say, pointing at her, and I can see the look of confusion on the hostess’s face. “What do you say, friend?” I say. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“Jillian.” She says her name, and her whole face lights up, making her blue eyes crystal blue, but if you look deep enough in them, they have a light green on the bottom. “My name is Jillian.” She holds out her slender hand for me.
My hand reaches out to take hers. “Michael,” I say, smiling at her. “Or Zander, whatever.” She laughs, but her hand still stays in mine. “So what do you say, Jillian?” I tilt my head to the side and smirk at her, hoping she says yes. “Have a drink with me or a meal. You can order food also.”