Page 2 of Stood Up
I know I’m not unattractive, but I never get this much attention from just walking into a place.
The hostess stops at a table in the middle row of the space. Intimate booths line the walls with a bar at one end, while tables line the middle. The décor is very modern in chromes, blacks, and reds yet has an ambiance of comfort. I have no idea how they pulled that off, but somehow it works.
Taking my chair, a waitress strides up to the table, again a smile beaming across her face. They must have a rule—must smile. Or maybe they’re filming a toothpaste commercial.Try extra white, it brightens your teeth.I stifle a smile as she speaks.
“Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?”
Looking around the space again, most people have some type of wine. I, on the other hand, am not a wine drinker and am not about to start conforming now. I may have a few nerves about the uncertainty of meeting someone new and different, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be me. After all, if he doesn’t like me, then so be it.
“What do you have on draft?”
Her mask of happiness tilts just a bit, but she recovers quickly relaying the different brews. I pick a malty sweet one, and she runs off.
Pulling out my phone, the time display says seven thirty, the exact time I’m supposed to be here. Now, where the hell is Drake Hamilton? I used to be more laid back about time, more go with the flow, but after Greg didn’t take my time seriously by purposefully being late or sayingI forgot to call, I became a bit more apt about it. My time is just as important as anyone else’s. If the guy I’m with can’t get his shit together, then he’s not the man for me.
Strike out.
The waitress comes back setting down the large craft of beer and a basket of bread onto the deep red covered table. She glances to the other space where a menu lay then back to me. “Would you like to order any appetizers while you wait?”
I haven’t even opened my menu yet, therefore have no clue what they have. “No thank you.”
“I’ll be back shortly.” I nod.
Time slowly ticks by as I sip my beer and try with great restraint not to bounce my leg impatiently. The feeling of an intense stare boring into me has my head turning instinctively in that direction. Startling sea green eyes stare back at me, not looking away as we connect, an instant pull booming in my chest.
The man is dressed from top to toe in an expensive light cream tailored suit that screams money. His strong features implore confidence, and the way he doesn’t even shift his gaze or hide his stare has me on edge. A shiver goes down my spine, and I impulsively look away from his intensity.
When I do, to my astonishment, sea green man isn’t the only guy looking in my direction. Several others are as well. Do I really look that out of place here? I know I’m not dripping in diamonds, but still. It must be my beverage of choice. To the right, a woman slaps a guy’s arm and his focus goes back to her.
Suddenly, the room becomes warm. I’ve never been the type of woman who wants to attract attention or craves it. I’d rather fade into the background and do my own thing. The gazes from the patrons are not allowing me this. Especially when I glance back at sea green man and notice he hasn’t moved away from his intense perusal of me. It’s still as sharp as before.
Needing a distraction, the beer gives me an out. The cool liquid does nothing for my body, though, as the heat burns me. I turn to my phone to check the time, and it states seven forty-three. Okay, is he stuck in traffic or something? Or is he even coming? Turning to the hostess station, no single males are in the area. At least none that look as if they are intent on meeting a woman on a date and searching for her. Shit. He surely didn’t stand me up.Who does that nowadays?
Swiping the phone, Lila’s name pops up and I hit the button. She answers on the first ring, “Why are you calling me?”
“Why isn’t your guy here?” I charge back softly.
I hear her audible gasp of shock. “You’re shitting me.”
Ever so quietly I respond, “Do you think I’d be calling you in the middle of fancy schmancy place if I were shitting you?”
“Hang on.” She covers the phone with her hand because the sounds on the other end are muffled. More than likely she’s asking her husband. Time seems to tick by slowly, then I hear her. “He’s stuck at work.” The regret is evident in her voice, and I try to keep my frustration down. I got dressed up, did my hair and makeup for this shit, and this dickhead didn’t bother to call Brad and tell him he wouldn’t be able to make it. What a piece of shit. Definite strike out for this guy.
Where the hell are the good men?
Are there any good men?
“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Lila then hang up the phone and set it on the table. Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out. I’ve had much worse things happen to me, this is just one of those stepping stone moments that everyone has to go through in life.
My phone goes off vibrating, and I see it’s Lila no doubt feeling bad for me. I don’t need her pity. Best friend or not, the pity train is gone. I swipe the ignore button, needing a bit of time before talking to her and take a large pull from my beer.
Stood up.Well, I guess I can check this off the bucket list,I joke to myself. Only something like this would happen to me. I give in to the pressure from my best friend and go for it only to be stood up. A smirk tips my lips as I let the irony hit me, allowing the humor of the situation to take me over and release the anger in a puff of smoke. It does no one any good to be angry at something like this.Roll with it. Live in the moment.
The waitress takes that instance to stop by the table again. “Is there anything I can get you?”
My stomach growls having only eaten a small sandwich on the go this afternoon when I had a meeting with a client. Oh, what the hell. I grab the menu, see chicken parmesan, one of my favorite meals, and order it. May as well make the best of this fuck up and see the light at the end of the tunnel. Anyway, it’s better to eat here than to go home and have soup from a can or salad, blah.
“And will you be joined?” she asks with a curiosity that should piss me off, but it doesn’t.
