Page 76 of River
“Why were you with someone who couldn’t take you to a decent restaurant, anyway?”
A sense of grief made me defensive. “I didn’t say my date couldn’t afford it, and even if he couldn’t, it wouldn’t matter, because I have my own money.”
“Yes, but don’t tell me you’d date a poor man.”
“For your information, the last time I was truly happy was that night.”
Jack wrinkled his nose and raised his glass of wine, sniffing it again.
“Isn’t it funny how worthless all this is?” I looked around the elegant room. “In six months, I probably won’t remember this dinner or this place despite all the fine china, or the meal that is so well prepared. But that night on the beach stands out to me as one of the best nights of my life.”
Jack looked like he’d just discovered a fly in the three-hundred-Euro wine he was drinking. Setting down his glass, he leaned back. “Is that so?”
“I was with a man who was eager to get to know me. Like it was his life’s mission to solve the puzzle that is me. He was patient and caring. I only knew him for three weeks, but we cried together and kissed like it was an Olympic sport.
This time it was Jack who looked around and lowered his voice with annoyance. “I’m not interested in hearing about how your other dates cried.”
“Why not? It’s part of my story. I reached a significant milestone with him, but you’ll never know what it was because you’re not interested in me as a person. This date is a casting call to see if I’ll fit the role as your pretty wife, isn’t it?”
He put down his napkin and looked for the waiter. “I don’t see a need to continue this farce. You’re nothing like your public image.”
“Is anyone?” I put my napkin down too and reached for the wine glass. “Beneath the smooth surface, we’re all flawed people.”
“Speak for yourself.”
I laughed a little too loud, and it made others look to our table. “I’ll do you a favor and tell you something that I’m assuming none of your other dates have had the heart to tell you. You’re afraid that I find you boring, but the biggest issue is that you’re predictable and naïve.”
His lips disappeared, and it made me tilt my head.
“I can tell you don’t like me saying that you’re naïve, but isn’t it obvious from your comment that I’m different in real life? I’m as imperfect as you. And this…” I pointed to the table, and the restaurant, “won’t ever be enough to smooth out those imperfections.”
“I assure you that I’m perfectly fine.”
“You’re lonely!”
“Tsk.” His snort sounded like a tire losing air. “I don’t have time to feel lonely. My business keeps me busy.”
He could deny as much as he wanted, but I saw the truth in his eyes.
“We’re all lonely, John. It’s a side effect of the way we live our busy, shallow city lives. How many hugs do you get a day… a week, or even year?”
“I’m not really the hugging type, so…” The waiter approached, and his brow rose in surprise when Jack asked for the check.
When the waiter left us, I leaned forward. “I’m happy to pay.”
“I have money,” Jack hissed. “I just told you that I’m a billionaire.”
“Did you? I must have missed it.” My voice dripped with irony, but Jack didn’t catch my humor.
“You’re complaining I’m not showing enough interest in you, and then you haven’t listened to a word I said. I specifically told you I rounded the billionaire mark last September.”
Six months ago, I would have cared about my date’s financial status, but something had changed. Again, my thoughts went back to my days in Bali: the kids laughing and smiling while playing with one-pound plastic balls and sharing some of the best days in my life with Noah in simple pleasures like swimming, dancing, and talking.
“I’d better go now.” I pushed my chair back.
“So, this is it?” Jack frowned. “There won’t be another date?”
I stood up and angled my head again. “Are you saying that you want another date?”
