Page 59 of Petals and Plot Twists
Itwouldbe long enough for the flower to bloom.
Which would be a welcome relief.
I’ve met up with three additional men this week. I invited Gary to meet me in the garden for coffee. Then Hendrix came over at lunch time, and a man named Richard insisted our first meeting be at a restaurant. I agreed, mostly because the idea of dinner sounded nice. But I didn’t bother inviting him back to the garden because his ex-wife called in the middle of appetizers, a call he took before spending the rest of our time together telling me all the reasons why he hopes they can get back together.
It’s all been very exhausting. And it’s making me miss Peter. I miss our movie nights. I miss watchingTed Lasso. I miss feeling like we can talk about anything. And it hasn’t felt that way since this whole Operation Soulmate thing started.
I finish making my lunch, not truly paying attention to Peter’s conversation, but then he says, “I know, sir. I understand. I appreciate your patience. I’ll definitely make my decision by the beginning of next week.” His eyes flick up to me for the briefest second, then his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.
What decision is he making?
And why don’t I know about it?
Does this have to do with the promotion he mentioned?
I take an extra-long time putting all the sandwich fixings back into the fridge. But as soon as Peter ends his call, he makes another, this time talking about numbers and code and a whole bunch of things that make zero sense to me.
If I didn’t have my own deadline looming, I might linger a little longer, but I’d love to finish my current design before the end of the day, which means I only have a few hours left.
I take my sandwich back to my office, assuming we’ll have time to talk before I leave for my date. But when I finally email my design to my supervisor and call it quits for the day, Peter is gone.
I pull out my phone to send him a text, but there’s already one waiting for me.
Peter
At the grocery store. Text me if you need anything. I’ll be home before you get back to The Serendipity with your date. Text me if the plan changes.
I sigh, tapping my phone against my palm. My date tonight, Chad, is meeting me for dinner at Aria. I can’t explain why, but when I made the plans, I didn’t suggest he come to The Serendipity first. Something in his tone, I think. He came across as slightly entitled, like he already had expectations for how things would go.
I’ve been wrong frequently enough to know better than to trust my first impressions and instincts, so I still scheduled the date. But meeting at a restaurant instead of bringing him anywhere near my home felt like a safer bet. Aria was one of my favorite places to eat even before I discovered the head chef, Matteo, lives in my building, so I’m happy for the meal even if I’m less enthusiastic about the company.
And maybe Chad will surprise me?
Though honestly, I’m not sure I want him to.
The longer this week has dragged on, the more I’ve begun to sense that Willa was right. Maybe I am making things too complicated. My feelings for Peter have only intensified, and spending time away from him, especially when I’m with other men, is starting to feel silly.
As I move into the bathroom to do my hair and makeup, I bargain with myself. If Peter gets home before I’m finished with my face, I’ll stay home.
When that doesn’t work, I kick the deadline out a little. By the time my hair is done. By the time my shoes are on. By the time I’m walking out the door.
But all the deadlines come and go, and Peter still doesn’t show.
Is he buying the entire freaking grocery store? How many things did he need to buy?
My stomach grumbles as I put on one last coat of lip gloss, and I breathe out a sigh.
“Fine,” I say to my silent apartment. “I’ll go have dinner at Aria. But I won’t be happy about it.”
Chad is waiting at our table when I arrive at the restaurant. He stands and smiles as I approach, then moves around the table to give me a hug.
He smells strongly of cologne, and I fight a wince as he envelops me. It’s not abadsmell, but it’s definitely about ten times too strong.
“Great to meet you, Sophie,” Chad says. His grip tightens the slightest bit, and I shrink away, shrugging out from under his arms.
“Yeah, you too,” I say as I step to my side of the table.
“Have you ever eaten here before?” he asks as I sit and open the menu.
