Not Quite Dating(35)

Jessie did her best to ignore the energy between them. She could look past the man and not dwell on their one kiss, most of the time. She could wipe the images her mind dreamed up of the man, even the naked ones, most of the time. She could ignore how her heart sped up when she saw him walking into the diner, or her son’s school, or the park, most of the time.
OK, maybe not most of the time, but for a few hours at a time.
Or a few minutes.
She shook her head. You’re hopeless, Jessie.
“I need someone stable, someone who has a real job, a real future. Not some temporary employee of a local hotel who will probably be traveling back to Texas after the holiday season is over. Have you forgotten Rory, Danny’s father? Or Mathew?”
“Mathew? Oh, that guy you dated for, what, ten minutes?”
“It was two months, and he moved in with me, if you remember. His idea of helping out was to take my rent money and leave.” Mathew was an expensive mistake.
She swung her purse on her shoulder and walked out of her bedroom and into the living room, where Danny was talking with Monica’s friend Lynn.
“I’m leaving, Danny. Can I get a kiss?”
Danny pushed away from his Legos and Lynn before putting his arms around her.
“Will you be home before I go to bed?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Danny’s normally happy smile slid into a tiny pout. “Can I go on your next date with you?”
Oh boy. “I’m not sure. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” The guilt was coming back tenfold.
“I went on your date with Uncle Jack.”
Arguing with him about the dating status and Jack was pointless. He didn’t understand, and Jessie was going to be late if she tried to explain the point again. “I’ll think about it,” Jessie said instead.
Danny took his frowning face and plopped on the sofa.
Jessie waved to her sister. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“I will. Bye, Monica. Bye, Lynn.” Jessie turned to her son. “Bye, buddy.”
Danny gave her a quick wave but didn’t look at her.
Jessie walked out of the apartment, wondering if she was doing the wrong thing.


She found the restaurant easily enough. Parking was a little tight, but she managed to cram her car into the lot between a huge pickup truck and a Lexus. Glancing at her watch, Jessie realized she was five minutes early. She hoped Brad was already waiting for her inside so she wouldn’t have to wait in the lounge or reception area by herself.
Inside the small Italian restaurant, the heavy smell of garlic and tomato sauce tickled her nose and made her mouth water. The dim lighting shed a nice romantic glow over the dark red booths.
“Welcome to Antonio’s,” a leggy, tall blonde woman about Jessie’s age greeted her.
“I’m meeting someone here. His name is Brad.”
The hostess glanced at her reservation list and smiled. “Your party hasn’t arrived yet, but your table is ready if you’d like me to seat you.”
Jessie sighed in relief. “You can seat me.”
Several couples talked quietly in their intimate booths, drinking wine and eating breadsticks. At the table, Jessie removed her light jacket and placed it beside her.
“Would you like something from the bar while you wait?”
“Water for now.”
The blonde left and Jessie went ahead and opened her menu to glance at the selections.
A busboy brought water and a basketful of breadsticks and then left her alone to watch the time pass.
Every minute that ticked by while Jessie waited felt like an hour.
Ten minutes past seven, Brad walked up to the table.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said as he undid a button on his jacket and slid into the booth beside her. “I had a heck of a time getting through traffic, and the parking out there is a mess.”
Jessie smiled and waved away Brad’s concerns. “I’m glad you made it.” And she was, she realized, despite her reservations about the date. Brad wore a well-pressed suit, his jaw was clean shaven, and he even smelled good. More because of the froufrou cologne he wore than his natural scent.
Jack always carried a little spice and pine wherever he went. More masculine.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
Fifteen minutes, thirty seconds. But who is counting? “I was only ahead of you by a few minutes,” she lied, hoping she didn’t appear too anxious.
Brad signaled the waiter as he walked by and ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Strike two, Jessie found herself thinking. First, he was late for the date, and although traffic was a factor, she had still managed to get there on time, and it wasn’t exactly rush hour out there. Second, Brad didn’t even ask her if she drank wine. Then again, maybe that’s what people with money did to impress their dates.
“The food here is excellent,” Brad said as he pushed his menu aside. “You said you’ve never eaten here before, isn’t that right?”
“I’ve passed here many times but never stopped.” Jessie went ahead and reopened her menu and then pretended to look over what the restaurant offered.
“I can select the perfect dish for you, if you like.”
“Ah…” She wasn’t sure what to say.
Brad gently removed the menu from her fingers and folded it on top of his. “You have to have the lasagna. I don’t think I’ve tasted better outside of New York.”
“Ah, OK.” Looks like it was lasagna, whether she wanted it or not. What was wrong with her? Brad was trying to be thoughtful, and here she was taking offense at nearly everything he was saying or doing.