Page 24 of The Santa Swap

The waitress nodded at Paul as he walked right past. He was clearly a regular because he headed straight to a table near the kitchen. They weren’t the seats Olivia would have chosen, but this date was Paul’s idea. She was trying to follow his lead.

Smooth jazz piped through a pair of old speakers that hung from the wall. Olivia found herself tapping her toes to the beat. The menu had a small selection of items, but a couple of the dishes looked good.

When the waitress came back, Paul winked up at her. “I’ll take the Chicken Cacciatore for myself, and we’ll have the chef’s special for the lady here.” The waitress was walking off before Olivia could register what had just happened. No one had ordered for her without asking her opinion since she was two.

“Hey. Why didn’t you let me choose my own meal?” Oliva asked.

Paul rested his hands on the table, palms up. “I know the ladies. They always like the chef’s special. Besides, if Paul wants to pay for your meal, you’re going to get what Paul chooses.” The way he spoke, Olivia got the feeling she was just another date on his long list. He didn’t seem to care if she had an opinion or not.

The jazz music switched to a more upbeat song and Paul jumped up from the table. He grabbed Olivia’s hands and pulled her to the center of the room. “Dance with me,” he said.

“No thanks.” Olivia took a step back but his hands held hers tightly.

“I said, dance with me. It’s what we do here.”

Olivia was a big fan of dancing, but not with the brute standing in front of her. She wasn’t some toy he could throw around, or a person with no opinion.

“No, thank you,” she said. She tugged her hands away from his and turned to walk back to the table. Paul grabbed ahold of her arm and spun her around.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I told you to dance.”

Now her temper was picking up. “Maybe you didn’t hear my answer. I said no.” Olivia planted her hands on her hips, staring down the guy that was easily a foot taller than her.

Paul backed up a step, and Olivia took that as her cue to leave. “Thanks for an interesting evening,” she said. “I think we both know there is no way this is going to work out.”

“No kidding.” Paul walked back to the table and pulled out his chair without so much as a backwards glance.

Olivia needed her coat and the purse that were hanging from her chair but she had no interest in walking back towards Paul. Instead, she asked a waitress who was passing by to go grab them. The temptation to leave her things behind entirely was strong, but Olivia knew she’d regret making the rash decision in the morning when she was freezing on her way to work.

When the waitress came back with the purse and coat, she had a manager in tow. “I’m sorry, Miss,” the manager said, “but there has been a complaint about you being disruptive.”

Olivia cringed. “Let me guess. The big guy back there in the brown t-shirt?”

The manager held an arm towards the door. “It doesn’t matter who the complaint came from. We’d like you to leave the premises.”

There was no hesitation when Olivia walked out the door. It wasn’t until she was standing outside in 15-degree weather that she realized her problem. She was in an unfamiliar part of town with no clue how to get home.

Pulling up the ride sharing app was no help. All the cars were booked at least a half hour out. Olivia pressed herself to the side of the building and called the one person she knew would be willing to bail her out if he wasn’t already busy.

Fifteen minutes later Luke pulled up to the curb. Olivia climbed into the back seat, looking back and forth between him and Susan.

“I’m so sorry for ruining your dinner,” Olivia said.

Susan shook her head. “It was no problem. We hadn’t even ordered yet.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you okay?”

“Apart from my fingers and toes being frozen, yeah. I’m okay.” There had been a couple of people that walked by, but no one had bothered her.

“So, where to?” Luke asked.

“Please take me home. I can’t wait to climb into my pajamas and dive into a pile of blankets.”

Susan turned her head so Olivia could see her profile. “Was the date really that bad?”

Olivia’s laugh was a cross between a sputter and a snort. “I could tell you about it, but I don’t know if you’d believe me. I can barely believe it myself.” She explained her date in great detail, leaving nothing out including how she’d been kicked out of the restaurant for unruly behavior. By the time they were pulling up to her apartment, the entire car was laughing hysterically.

“Thanks again for the rescue,” Olivia said.

---