“Hello. Sorry for the PDA, but you turned around, and just looked and smelled so fucking good. I couldn’t...”
“It’s okay. It was nice. Hello.”
“Okay, shall we sit down, before I jump you again, and this time I can’t promise I’ll stop at just a kiss. I have a regular table.”
“Do you now?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Come on, it’s this way.” He didn’t seem to get my implication, or he just didn’t care. I suspected that the latter was true. He had a quiet confidence about him as he strode across the restaurant to his spot.
“So you come here regularly?” I asked as I sat down.
“Yeah, fairly often.” He’d helped me into my seat, and was now sliding into his own. Definitely no hint of any kind of reticence about bringing a date somewhere he’d obviously brought scores of women previously. He handed me a menu, and smiled. “Want me to recommend a few things? I’ve had pretty much everything on the menu at one time or other, so I know what’s good.”
Wow. He literally gave zero fucks about me knowing that I was clearly one in a long line of conquests through the revolving door. And there I’d been thinking he was a nice, sweet guy.
“No thanks. I’m really boring. I always get pretty much the same thing.”
“Which is?”
“Marinara pizza and root beer.”
“Wait, what? Am I on a date with an eighty-year-old lady?”
“Why do you say that? What’s wrong with that order?”
“I must say, you look good for an octogenarian, though. Like really good. Good enough to...”
“Ha! What’s your go-to, then?”
“I mean, I like to change it up sometimes, but I can highly recommend the Italian sausage.”
“Really? Are we still talking about pizza?” I had no idea where that came from, but I went with it, quirking my eyebrow as I delivered the innuendo.
“Well, I’m Irish, but if it’s sausage recommendations you’re looking for, you’ve already sampled mine, twice, so...” He cracked a shit-eating grin, and I couldn’t help but smile back, crude and crass though he was. It made a nice change to genuinely flirt in person with a guy my own age, who I’d agreed to spend time with for the pleasure of it, as opposed to being paid to give the impression of flirting with God-knew who on the phone line.
“Is this what this is then, a date?”
“Hmm...?” He looked up over his menu, seemingly confused.
“Well, you asked before if you were on a date with an eighty-year-old woman, so I’m just clarifying that it’s a date.”
“Well, it’s a girl and a guy out to dinner, together. I’m not sure what else it would be, if not a date. What would you call it, otherwise?”
“Oh, I was just checking, because to be honest, after what went down when we met, I’m surprised you even agreed to meet up again.”
“What? Why?”
“Umm... I don’t know... let me see...” I faux-paused, pretending to think. “Hmm... how about the fact that I was a hot fucking mess? I mean, first I almost smash your shins to pieces, while threatening to hurl chunks on your shoes, then I act like I’ve never had coffee before, and proceed to empty my entire cup into my lap as though the surprise of being asked my number was enough to send me into shock.” I dropped my volume a little.
“Then I take you back to my place and practically beg you to fuck me. One minute I’m a blushing virgin, the next, a sexed-up hornbag. Not my finest hour, or my best look. You must think I’m a manic psycho, so I was just checking that you didn’t invite me here to have me committed.”
“Ha! Honestly, it really wasn’t that bad. It probably felt worse to you than it did to me. Actually, I hope the part in the shower felt as good to you as it did to me, because from where I was standing, it was out of this world.” Oh, he was smooth. I guessed he’d had a lot of practice. “I have to say, I was actually surprised to get your message, though.” Not as surprised as I was to be sending it, believe me.
“Really? Why? I was genuinely shocked that he was surprised. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who had any reason to doubt himself where women were concerned.
“I just didn’t get the impression that you would be in touch, that’s all.”
“I guess that’s what happens when we assume.” I laughed lightly.
The fact was, his instinct had kind of been correct. I hadn’t intended to, and wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for the terrible time I’d had since we first met.
After everything that had happened the day before with the lecture debacle, and the call with “Mike,” I’d been on tenterhooks the whole day, and terrified of going to classes or logging on for my shifts. I’d made myself do both, because I needed to, and had been comforted to find that everything had gone without a hitch. An uneventful day of lectures had been a relief.
But just when I’d thought I could breathe easy, I’d received a call that I was almost too afraid to answer, given my earlier conversation with Mike. It had turned out to be from the Dean’s office, requesting a meeting with me the following day.
In the meeting they’d informed me that it had taken them hours to finally shut off the sound and vision in the lecture theater, rendering it useless for the rest of the day, and causing disruption to multiple timetables as a result. Not only that, but they’d had to spend money on an external IT specialist, because the level of encryption involved in getting the video onto the system, then keeping it there, despite their best efforts to remove it, was way beyond anything their in-house team could handle.
Considerable resources had been expended righting the problem, and, given that I was the only person recognizably featured, the Dean wanted to know what my connection was. All I could tell him was what I knew, which was next to nothing. Actually, that wasn’t true. I didn’t tell him about the call from Mike, but I could hardly spill that tea without opening up a whole can of worms that I wouldn’t be able to close again.
He seemed disappointed, and possibly disbelieving of my explanation, but it was the truth, or as close to it as he was going to get from me, and without outright accusing me of wrongdoing, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He did, however, warn me that he was watching me. I hoped he meant it figuratively, but with all the weird shit happening in my life at that time, I couldn’t be so sure.
“Yeah, about that assumption. I have something I should probably come clean about.”
“What?” The blood drained from my face, and I was instantly hot and clammy.
“Well, like I said, I was pretty convinced you weren’t going to call, so while you were in the bathroom, I pranked my phone with yours, so I’d have your number, and I could hit you up if I didn’t hear from you.”
Sweet baby Jesus. I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy to hear that someone had done something mildly shady in my entire life. “You did?” I grabbed my phone and pulled up the recent call list. Sure enough, on Tuesday morning there was a missed call to a number I wasn’t familiar with. “Oh, you really actually did. Why are you telling me now, though? I did message you, so you could have gotten away with it.”