Page 23 of Not My Finest Hour

“Not me, but Fern did. I don’t know why though, especially since she had a classmate named Atreyu.”

“You mean likeThe NeverEnding Story?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why that kid didn’t get his ass kicked.”

Wesley laughs. “All the kids in my school had boring names. The weirdest name in my school was someone who was the fifth of his name, which wasn’t a big deal on its own. But this kid used to insist that people add the suffix when stating his name in full. He’d even correct you if you accidentally left it off. He grew up to be one of those ambulance-chasing lawyers, and I’m pretty sure he’s still a dick.”

I let out a chuckle at his description. “What school did you go to?”

Wesley rattles off the name of the most prestigious private school in the area, a place that costs as much, if not more than my entire college tuition. It’s clear to me that Wesley and I came from very different upbringings, and while I shouldn’t let that get in the way of me enjoying the evening, I can’t help but feel inferior. I didn’t grow up having the latest and greatest everything, and while my parents provided adequately enough, there were times when money was tight. Something tells me that even now, Wesley doesn’t have to worry about having enough money to make it through until the next payday.

Luckily, I’m spared from having to hear more about Wesley’s privileged childhood because our food arrives. I glance down at the beautifully plated food before me, but all I see is opulence. I stab my fork into the pasta and twirl the noodles around the tines. Wesley is already two bites into his dinner, and I’m still over here twirling away.

He must pick up on my sudden change in demeanor because he sets his fork down. “What’s wrong? You haven’t taken a bite yet. Is your pasta not what you thought it was going to be? If so, we can get you something else.”

And what a waste of food that would be. If my father were here, he would cringe at the suggestion. Just to show that everything is all right, I take a bite of pasta, but it gets stuck like a paste in my throat and I have to take a sip of water just to get it down. “No, the pasta is fine.”

“Then what is it? I thought everything was going well until we started talking about school.”

I decide right then and there that the only way to salvage this evening is to be honest and upfront with Wesley. “I’m realizing that you and I had completely different upbringings, and even now we’re miles apart when it comes to our situations. You’re a doctor who probably never has to worry about money, and I feel that at times, that’s all I worry about. I’m not exactly making a killing as a receptionist.”

“I know that I had a different upbringing than most people, and the time I spent in school affords me a lifestyle some will never achieve. But I don’t see myself as better than anyone, and I can tell you that money never factored into my decision to ask you out tonight.”

“Then whydidyou ask me out?”

“Because I wanted to get to know you better, and I think you’re beautiful.”

I can’t help the grin that refuses to be erased. “Yeah? You really think that?”

Wesley smiles back at me. “Yes, I do. Ever since I saw you at the seminar, I wanted to get to know you better. In fact, I tried looking for you later that evening, but couldn’t find you.”

“Youwere looking forme?”

“Yes, I searched for you for quite a while. At least I remembered where you said you worked so I could find you.”

I can’t believe Wesley went through all that trouble to find me. “I wasn’t feeling well that evening, so I left early,” I say, since I can’t exactly tell him the real reason I left.

“It’s okay. I found you eventually. Now, do you want to stay, or should I take you home? If you’re not having a good time, I don’t want to keep you here.”

He’s right. I shouldn’t let my own insecurities get in the way of our evening. “I want to stay.”

For the rest of the evening, Wesley and I can’t stop talking to one another. Eventually, our dinner plates get cleared away, dessert plates come and go, and glasses empty only to be refilled, then emptied again.

As we leave the restaurant, he holds my hand in his and I’m so taken by the ambiance of the evening, I plant a small kiss on his cheek before getting into his car. We’re already planning our next date as he pulls up to my place, and have arranged to get together next weekend by the time he reaches my door. We stand there, both of us staring intently at one another when he makes the move first. He leans in and presses his lips against mine while his arm wraps around my waist. I deepen the kiss as his hand slips under my sweater and brushes against my skin. I don’t mind the contact. In fact, it sends a shiver down my spine, and I press my body harder against his. We’re locked for a few moments in this embrace, his hand never straying from my waist. I pull away first, not wanting things to get too out of hand out here on the porch, and plant another small kiss on his lips.

“I had a nice time tonight. Thanks for taking me out,” I say, removing his hand from my waist and holding it in mine.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you next weekend.”

ChapterTen

It’s Monday, and I’m supposed to be writing a letter to one of Kim’s clients because they’re way behind on their payments. This particular client has already been sent three bills with no payment in sight. I’m supposed to let this client know that if needed, we’re willing to set up a payment plan to make sure this bill gets paid. Or if there’s something going on that’s preventing them from paying this bill, to let us know. And all this is supposed to be done in a stern, but approachable way. Is that even possible?

It’s a fine line I’m walking here with the tone of this letter, and all I’ve managed to type up so far is, “Dear Mr. Benson.”

I’ve spent the last half hour staring at this document. My brain can’t seem to accept that it’s a workday, because all it wants to do is be on a date with Wesley. It didn’t help that Fern was home yesterday and wanted to hear every little detail of our date, so I basically had to relive it. I kept some parts to myself, of course, especially the part where his kiss made my toes tingle. Some things she doesn’t need to know.

I need to focus. I can’t be thinking about kisses that sent shivers down my spine. This is literally the one task I have to get done by the end of the day so I can put this out with today’s mail. And I can’t even blame anyone else for my lack of attention because Alexis has actually been nice for a change. She said hi to me and asked me how my weekend was. I almost didn’t respond because she never asks me about my weekend. Usually, she comes in with her demands and that’s the extent of our conversation. But today, she stopped and actually looked me in the eye when she was talking to me. I don’t know what changed with her, but I’m not complaining.

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