Page 33 of Raise The Bar
Me:I’d love to
Chapter 19
Callum
It’s not a date.
I’ve said this to myself at least twenty times since I left my house.It’s not a date.
We’re friends having dinner together. I have dinner with friends all the time. People have to eat, right? We’ll grab some food, catch up on one another’s week and I’ll answer any questions she may have about her business.
Thoughts of Maggie have been plaguing me all week. She’s invaded every corner of my brain. It’s not just the kiss, although I have thought about that plenty. It’s the way she crinkles her nose when she thinks no one is watching. How her eyes sparkle when she finds something funny. A compilation reel of all her quirks has been playing on repeat since I saw her last.
Her texts are what got me through the week. How can someone be so attractive and so endearing at the same time? As much as I’ve enjoyed our playful back and forth, I’ve been dying to see her in person again. Her sending that selfie with the safety goggles was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’d paced around my kitchen for twenty minutes before finally biting the bullet and asking her to grab dinner with me tonight.
As friends.
When I suggested a nice restaurant, it was because I thought the regular Friday night pub scene would be crowded and make conversation difficult. Not because I’m trying to impress her.
When I offered to meet her at her place first so we could walk to the restaurant together, it was for practical reasons. Her apartment is on my way to the restaurant, and parking would be easier. Why would we show up separately when we could go together?
And now, as I stand in front of apartment 2C with sweaty palms, it’s because it’s 80 degrees outside and I just walked up two flights of stairs. It’s not because I’m nervous. I wipe my hands on my jeans, straighten to my full height and knock.
The door opens and my lungs forget their primary function.
Maggie stands before me, an absolute vision in a teal sundress. Her dark curls are loose around her face, framing it gently. The dress is casual, but feminine and she’s matched it with a pair of strappy gold sandals. She smiles up at me and my heart races and I finally take a deep breath that goes straight to my head.
“You look really nice.”Christ, man you sound like a fourteen year old boy. Hell, I feel like a fourteen year old boy. I’m surprised my voice doesn’t crack when I speak. “I’m a bit disappointed you aren’t wearing the safety goggles, though.”
“I thought about it, but I’ve decided to live recklessly.”
“You’re dangerous. I like it.”
She joins me in the hallway and locks the door behind her. I drink in the sight of her and discover that the dress is just as devastating from the back. I make myself look away from her spectacular ass before she catches me staring. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
We take the stairs, chatting about the weekend forecast. It rained for most of the week, but finally cleared up today and the weekend looks clear and sun-filled, with much less humidity.
“I’m looking forward to finally eating at Sorellina,” she says when we’re close to our destination.
“I’m surprised you haven’t already.” I move out of the way of a large group of tourists who are taking up the entire sidewalk. “It’s been open for years.”
“My ex didn’t really like anything other than pub food. He was more of a meat and fried potatoes kind of guy.” I stand a bit straighter when she mentions him. From what Josh told me, her ex sounds like a manipulative asshole. I don’t like thinking about Maggie with anyone, but the thought of her with someone like that? It’s an entirely different kind of hell.
We arrive at the restaurant and I open the door for her. Just because it’s not a date doesn’t mean I can’t be chivalrous. The hostess takes our name and seats us at a small table near the back of the room.
I like Sorellina. It’s classy without being high on itself. Scanning the room, I see a wide variety of patrons. Tourists clearly in “vacation mode” are sitting close to people in business attire. Cream colored curtains hang from the dark mahogany walls adding much needed brightness. The dim lighting borders on romantic. Not that that was my intention.
I hand Maggie the wine menu and tell her to choose a bottle of whatever she’s in the mood for.
“But you don’t know what you’re ordering yet. What if I order something that doesn’t compliment your meal?”
I lean closer to her, the table separating us. “Can you keep a secret?”
Amusement dances in her eyes. “Definitely not.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” I laugh. “I’m going to tell you anyway.” I glance around the crowded restaurant and lean even closer. “I think wine pairings are bullshit and that all wines go with all foods.”
