Chapter 2 #2
“I can’t promise that without hearing it, but I’ll definitely try.”
“Fair enough.” She takes a brief moment to collect her thoughts before beginning.
“The last dinner date I went on, he took me to a nice Italian restaurant. Dinner was great, and I thought we really connected. He ordered a bottle of wine, apps… the works. Honestly, I felt a little spoiled even though I only had a small piece of bruschetta and one glass of wine. I don’t usually go to fancy restaurants.
He ordered a steak, and I had pasta. I hate wasting food and like to order things that I can take half to go for lunch the next day.
Pasta is always a great option for that. ”
Despite the fact that it’s killing me hearing her talk about another date, I agree, “True. Honestly, that’s really smart. When I make dinner, it’s just for myself, and I always make two or three portions so I have leftovers.”
“Exactly! I meal prep for the week, and when I go out with my girlfriends, I usually find something that will stretch for at least two days.”
“So, did he steal your leftovers?”
“No.” Olivia lets out a full laugh, and it has to be the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard in my life.
“When the bill came, he asked to split it down the middle. I normally wouldn’t mind, but it really wasn’t in my budget to pay for half with the steak and the expensive wine he ordered.
I’ve always been frugal. Hell, I survived off ramen made in my coffee pot my freshman year.
I’m budget-conscious. The only thing I splurge on is my vanilla caramel latte once a week.
I didn’t need a fancy dinner if he also couldn’t afford it.
If I had known he wanted to split the check, I would’ve asked that we go somewhere else when he suggested the place. ”
“What’s his name?” I seethe, unable to help feeling a little protective.
“Down, tiger,” she teases, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her sparkling honey-brown ones. “He’s long gone, moved on to some other woman to take advantage of. But it gets worse. He started the pat-down in search of his wallet.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. I had to pay for the whole thing. Then he wanted to share a cab or rideshare to get home, but I took the subway. I had to use my credit card to pay for dinner, and it took me over two months to pay it off. There was no way I could also spring for a rideshare too.”
“For the record, my family would disown me if they found out I didn’t take care of my date.”
“Oh, sorry! I don’t think you’d do anything like that,” she rushes out. “But I have a little bit of leftover trauma from it. Coffee just always feels safe, but… so does this.”
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She offers me a wry smile. “You should.”
On top of being the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, she’s smart, funny… and entirely out of my league. I hate that I’ve waited this long to work up the courage to ask her out, giving assholes like the guy she told me about a chance to take advantage of her kindness.
We continue eating in comfortable silence—which I appreciate.
So many women I’ve dated feel the need to fill the quiet with small talk.
Not Olivia. She shared something incredibly vulnerable, and I don’t take that for granted.
Now that it’s off her chest, I love that we can spend a few minutes just enjoying being in each other’s space.
It’s not awkward or forced. We’re not asking what each other’s favorite color or music is.
Then again, if I knew, I’d likely have her playlists on repeat at the gym.
Getting to know her better is a mistake—Lance was right, I’m absolutely going to fall for her—but since I already know the answer, it’s safe to ask, "What other classes are you taking?”
Olivia takes a sip of water before replying, “Politics of Poverty and Welfare, and I just got into International Law off the waitlist.”
“I’m also taking International Law.” I briefly draw my lips into my mouth to hide my smile.
“I’m doing the Thursday night class. What about you?”
I smother my disappointment as I answer, “Monday evening.”
“Oh.” Her face falls, and part of me enjoys how she’s equally let down. “What else are you taking?”
“Just the two classes, plus one for my internship. I was supposed to graduate last year and had plans to take a year off before starting grad school, but I was accepted for a six-month internship with UNICEF. The only problem is it requires that I'm a current student.”
Eyes wide, with a chip halfway to her mouth, she sets it down. “You have a UNICEF internship?”
“I know, right? I couldn’t believe it myself. I applied last year twice and didn’t get it. So when I was accepted, I figured why not stay in New York for another semester.”
“That’s impressive. I applied to one I really wanted this year, and didn’t get it. Don’t worry, it wasn’t with UNICEF—you didn’t steal my internship,” she chuckles, her smile making the corners of her eyes crease. “I tried for two different ones within the UN Development Programme.”
“Maybe next semester? How many do you have left to finish?”
“Two, including this one.” Her face falls.
“I’m about a year behind. I started at a community college in California when I was still in high school—mostly a lot of math and physical science classes when I should’ve been taking gen ed.
But when I took a world politics class, I was hooked.
Changed my major and never looked back.”
“I wish I had taken more science classes. I loved astronomy, but there was no reason to take more. It isn’t as if I could become an astrophysicist or something.”
“Why not?”
When she finally resumes eating, I’m careful with my words as I reply, “My mother is a public figure, so it’s always been expected of me to go into politics. No time to stare at the stars.”
Olivia’s eyes are wide, and she covers her mouth as she finishes chewing. After a sip of her water, her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t talk about it much since most people here don’t follow Canadian politics.”
“No, sorry, I just mean why would you need to go into politics at all? If you wanted to, I don’t know, become an astronaut, who’s to say you couldn’t?”
“I guess it just started out that way, but my parents reminded me that the privilege of growing up in a political family opens doors. I can do so much good in the world because of it. The way I see it, my last name will give me recognition in any position I hold.”
Her eyes twinkle as she bites her lip. “So, you’re banking on a dash of nepotism to kick off your political career?”
“No,” I laugh, grabbing another chip. “I mean, a little, but I had the grades for the internship, so it wasn’t as if I’m not qualified. But honestly, it’s probably the only reason I got it. I’m really looking forward to learning from like-minded people; I don’t take it for granted.”
“What’s your end goal? You plan on saving the world’s children?”
“I’m certainly going to try.” My answer earns me a warm smile from her.
“Well, you know I now have to ask—who is your mom?”
I lean in and keep my voice low. “I’ll tell you if you agree to have coffee with me in the morning.”
“Wish I could,” she groans. “I’ll be drinking my coffee around five, since I have yoga at six tomorrow.”
I take a drink of water, speaking into my glass, “I’m normally up at six anyway, so what’s another hour?”
“It would mean I have to get up at four to get ready, put on real clothes…”
“Says who? Since you have yoga, why not get ready for your workout and meet me for coffee before your class?”
Olivia scrunches her nose, and just like before, it’s fucking adorable. “We’re talking about a band tee from six years ago and yoga pants that are beginning to fray at the bottoms. Not exactly the sexiest of workout clothes.”
“I don’t know, sounds pretty sexy to me,” I quip, and a light blush creeps up her neck to her cheeks. “I’ll sweeten the deal and come in pajamas.”
She sits up straighter, confidently reaching across the table to shake my hand. “You have a deal, Mister…”
“Banks.” I take her hand and warmth spreads up my arm, just like it did in class when I touched her.
“Banks… Banks…” Her eyes widen as she releases my hand, then whisper-shouts, “No fucking way. Your mom is Premier of Ontario?”
“Close. Nova Scotia. But, shh, keep it down, or all of New York will know.”
She crosses her heart. “I promise I won’t tell.”
“It’s not like I hide it, but I also don’t advertise it. I’m sure someone put two-and-two together when I applied for the internship this time.”
“Or you were one of the best candidates and you’re playing down your achievements.”
“Or that,” I chuckle.
“Once your internship is done…” Her words hang in the air, and I hate that I don’t have a better answer for her than I’m leaving.
With a deep breath, I finish her sentence, “I’ll be going home. I’ll be applying for graduate and law schools up there in the next few months, but after that, who knows? I’d love to work for a nonprofit, but I have a feeling I’ll be lured into the world of public office by my family.”
“I can see it. Charming, up-and-coming candidate steals the hearts of Nova Scotia.” She connects her thumbs and forefingers to make a frame and squints. “Yep, Member of Parliament in the next ten years.”
“Not likely.” I huff a small laugh. “What about you?”
“I’m hoping to get into a program in California—maybe Stanford.
After that?” She shrugs. “Maybe I’ll also be lured into the world of public office.
Honestly, I feel like I can do more working with nonprofits or charities.
I don’t know that I’d survive the scrutiny of serving in an official capacity. ”
“After seeing you in class today, I don’t buy it.” Just as she did, I create a frame, keeping an eye closed as I peer through my fingers. “Ah, yes, I can see it. Brilliant candidate, steals the hearts of California, runs for Governor.”