Page 29 of Ruined Promises

“Yes.” I try to remember the name that Asher had told me. I ran into Lexi before I had found her name.

Luckily, she helps me out, introducing herself. “Vanessa.” I take her hand in mine. While they are soft and delicate, they don’t send any jolt of electricity through me. “Wow, the photo Asher sent didn’t do you justice.” I shiver as her eyes roam up and down my body, however not in the good kind of way. It’s different from when Lexi does it.Shit, Lexi.

When I face her again, I see the smallest hint of hurt in her eyes, before she shakes it off. Vanessa awkwardly loops her arm through mine. It’s a little forward, especially after moments of meeting for a blind date. Would I be more interested in this date had Lexi not been standing here? And what was it she was trying to say?

Lexi is the first to break the silence, offering an olive branch. “Hi, I’m Lexi.”

Vanessa gives a brief wave instead of taking Lexi’s hand in front of her. Lexi brings her hand back and wipes it down her pant leg as if her hand had something on it, and that was why Vanessa didn’t take it.

The hostess approaches us and looks back and forth between the three of us. “Table for three?”

I turn to Lexi. “Would you care to join us?” I ask, knowing very well how much of an asshole that makes me sound.

A strangled sound comes from Vanessa beside me. Lexi looks down at her fidgeting hands. “Oh, no, my order should be ready at any minute.”

“Order for Lexi,” the hostess calls, saving us both from this conversation.

Lexi turns. “Right here.” She signs the ledger and accepts the large white bag with the Marina Grill logo in blue on the side.

“It was nice to meet you, Vanessa. Have a good evening, Ben.” Lexi’s eyes linger a moment longer, and she gives a warm smile.

I glance over my shoulder to see her doing the same as she exits. Lexi is the first to break eye contact, and it makes me feel like an even bigger jerk in this entire situation. I could quickly run after her, but I don’t. Seeing the hurt in her eyes fills me with regret for ever agreeing to this date.

“Sir, if you will follow me, I’ll show you to your table.” The hostess extends her hand, leading the way.

I place my hand on Vanessa’s lower back and follow the hostess.

I find myself zoning out throughout our meal. Vanessa is funny and beautiful; she’s just not Lexi. I hate myself for evening finishing that statement in the company of someone else, someone I should be giving a chance. Yet, I am counting down the minutes until this date is over and comparing the differences between the woman in front of me and the woman I let slip out of my grasp. Conversation with Lexi has come easy, even if it’s as simple as joking over the coffee machine in the break room.

I am leaning back in the chair with my fingers slowly and softly tapping on the white linen. “Would you like any dessert?” the waiter asks, glancing back and forth between us.

Vanessa says, “Yes,” at the same time, I respond, “No, thank you.” And now I’ve lost count as to how awkward this date could go. Has it been that long since I’ve been out in the dating world, or does it just have to do with the company?

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that I have a long day of meetings tomorrow that I have to prepare for.”

Vanessa doesn’t try to hide her hurt and pouts a little, hoping I’ll change my mind. A grown woman whining is not becoming or attractive to me. After an uncomfortable goodbye, where I go to kiss her goodbye on the cheek and she goes for my mouth, we finally go our separate ways. I don’t promise to call her again, because I didn’t want to lie to her. I’m sure she is already on her phone with her friends complaining about how horrible the date was.

I set my phone and wallet in the cup holder once back in the safety of my car. I hesitate starting the vehicle and end up leaning back on the headrest and closing my eyes. I reach for the phone and pull up a new message. I scroll through the names and land on “Lexi.”

I haven’t used her number since we exchanged them the other week. Lexi thought it was best to swap contact information the night before we were supposed to be meeting at the potential venue for the Best Of party. She had used the words “in case one of us is running late.” I took that as a step in the right direction, that is until her boyfriend was mauling her in the middle of the office.

I begin to type out a message.

Me:(draft)Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.

And then delete it and attempt another message.

Me:(draft)I hope your dinner was delicious.

And go about deleting that one as well.

Me:(draft) …

I stare at the blank message and think better of it. It’s one thing to offer her to join my date and me, but to text after hours about non-business-related items, I might as well be unzipping my pants and pulling my dick out for her to take.

I sigh, running my hands over my face, and toss my phone on the passenger seat. I’ll just talk to her tomorrow. That is the right thing to do. I pull out of the spot and head home. Another night… alone.

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