Page 50 of Until Tomorrow
With that little notion on repeat in my head, I made myself go in. Considering the later hour, it wasn’t hard to find Chad.
He was every bit a frat boy who never grew up. I felt overly dressed compared to his jeans, Patriots jersey, and old gym shoes. At least he looked like he tried with his dark hair combed and his face cleanly shaved.
“Logan!” he greeted loud enough for everyone in the small shop to hear. I smiled, doing my best not to feel awkward as I joined him. “You look nice. Had I known you were going to dress up, I would’ve tried a little harder.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. Taking his offer, I sat at the table across from him. “This is my casual wear.”
“Oh.” He laughed, and I did my best not to frown. When I didn’t laugh with him, he sobered quickly. “Oh, you’re serious.Damn. Don’t take this the wrong way, but while you look handsome in the dress clothes, you really should work on getting a pair of jeans or two.”
We were off to a fantastic start.
“Duly noted,” I murmured.
“No offense though,” he assured me.
“None taken.” No, I definitely took offense to that. I had no issues with how I dressed. “How are you?”
“Oh, you know.” Chad leaned back in his chair, fishing a piece of gum out of his pocket. Considering the black coffee he had, who in their right mind drank that and chewed gum simultaneously? “I’m good, I’m good. Things are good. Work is a bitch. Well, my manager’s the bitch.”
“I’m—”
“This fucking guy,” he kept talking as if I hadn’t said a word, “he acts like he owns the place, you know? Like he runs the company!”
“Isn’t that the job of a manager during their shift?” I asked with a slight frown. I hadn’t worked in a managerial-based company in quite a long time, but I still understood the concept. But did Chad?
“Nah, I know what I’m doing! I’ve been there since I was sixteen. It’s a sweet gig. Next year, I should be making Assistant Manager when Jerry retires.”
“And where do you work?”
“It’s a jersey store. We sell some real high-end jerseys,” he explained, smacking his gum as he spoke. “The good stuff you know.”
Thank God being a lawyer had given me a fantastic poker face. Chad’s profile had said thirty-two. That meant he’d been working in the same retail store for sixteen years. While a job was a job and I tried hard not to judge, he’d been working the same position for sixteen years.
“Did you always want to sell jerseys?” I continued, doing my best to seem interested. Chad and I were in very different leagues.
“Nah, you know, I thought about college for a while,” Chad said. “But then I got this job, and it was perfect. Exactly what I needed. Need. You know how it is.”
“I did four years of college and three years of law school,” I told him with a slow nod.
“Oh, that’s cool,” he replied, mirroring my nod. “Do you like being a lawyer? Do you chase bad guys all day?”
“I’m not a police officer, and I’m not a defense attorney or a public defender.”I’d entertained that for all of a minute.The idea of working with criminals wasn’t for me. “I work mostly in corporate and business dealings.”
“That sounds so boring,” he commented. “I couldn’t do it. Deal with that kind of boring stuff all day. There’s no life in that!”
“Well, I enjoy what I do,” I assured him—why? I didn’t know. Talking to him felt like pulling teeth, but I was determined to see it through.Even if he wouldn’t stop chewing his gum loud enough for the baristas to hear.“So, tell me about yourself, Chad.”
Repositioning myself, I leaned back in my chair and got comfortable, determined to see this thing through.
As far as first dates went, it could’ve been worse. Chad wasn’t my kind of person. I found him overly talkative, too personal, and I had serious thoughts of wanting him to choke on the gum he insisted on chewing at jet-plane decibels.
Two hours later, we walked out. Two hours had never felt so long in my life, and I’d attended law school. Chad liked to talk. A lot. He liked the sound of his own voice and no one else’s. I didn’t speak much the entire time we were there, but I made sure I listened, so I could say I gave it my all.
“This was nice,” Chad said as we stopped on the sidewalk. “I had a good time.”
“So did I,” I replied. I couldn’t tell him the truth. That just felt wrong.
“We should do this again,” he continued. “Well, I’m parked that way. Can I walk you to your car?”
