Chapter 3
Ansley
I start my second day at York Financial preparing a detailed report for Ms. Frost about Blithe Holdings.
Then I continue working on my orientation. I finish that by the end of my second day and spend most of the third day waiting for a meeting with Mr. Fleming so I can find out what’s next. I get a load of assignments to keep me busy for the rest of the week. I barely have time for lunch.
On Friday night, I consider canceling my plans at least a dozen times before getting dressed to go out.
I’m a little nervous. I haven’t dated much.
I’m definitely outside of my comfort zone.
I feel even more outside of it when I step into Fletcher’s Bar and see that’s it’s packed.
It takes several attempts to flag Daisy down.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about it being packed tonight,” I say, having to raise my voice over the music.
“Told you! Just sit here and look pretty. Nice dress, by the way,” she says with a grin. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to pay for a drink all night.”
And so, it begins. The epic night, as Daisy put it. I sit at the end of the counter and wait patiently. I’m not sure I look pretty, but this is the best dress in my closet. I actually look a little overdressed, now that I’m looking around.
Just when I’m considering how to make my escape, I see Daisy pointing me out to a tall guy in a cowboy hat. You don’t see many cowboy hats in Chicago. He flashes a grin, says something to Daisy and strolls my way like he’s about to lasso me.
“Hey there, pretty lady. I’m Rex, but most people just call me Tex because of my accent,” he says in a smooth twang. “What’cha drinking?”
“Um, nothing yet,” I turn to face him. “I guess… white wine.”
Rex or Tex, I’m not sure what to call him, leans against the counter and flags Daisy down. He’s not a bad looking guy. Tall, tanned, and they say guys with accents like his are supposed to be gentlemanly.
Is that what I want? I’m not really sure what I want.
“Wine for the pretty lady,” the cowboy drawls.
“Coming right up!” Daisy chimes, winking at me.
Daisy knows I like white wine, so it’s no surprise when that’s what she brings. Rex-or-Tex is drinking beer. He gives me his full attention, brown eyes studying me.
“Ansley, right? I really like that name. I went to school with an Ansley,” he says. “Her eyes weren’t as pretty as a Texas sunset, though.”
“Oh, um,” I stammer, blushing slightly. “Thank you.”
Rex-or-Tex seems to like giving compliments.
Over the course of half a glass of wine, he compliments everything except what he shouldn’t.
I struggle to find anything to compliment him on except his accent.
But it doesn’t take me long to realize we have zero chemistry.
One comment about what I do for work, and his eyes glaze over until he finds something else to compliment.
“It was very nice to meet you. Thank you for the wine,” I say kindly, noticing that Daisy is pointing me out to another customer. “But my friend wants me to treat this like speed-dating, and I think she’s got my next date lined up.”
“She mentioned that,” he chuckles. “Let me give you my number. I’d love to hear from you if someone else doesn’t sweep you off your feet tonight.”
He jots down his number and leaves. The next guy comes over.
His name is Jake and he played football in college.
He’s proud of it because that’s all he talks about for most of our so-called speed date.
Still, I take his number to be polite and add it to the collection. Then it’s time for my next date.
“Uh, hi, the blonde behind the counter said I had to come meet you,” a guy says. He’s got a medium build, brown hair, and a light stubble on his face. “I’m Charles.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Ansley,” I say.
“Wine, right? Let me get you another glass,” Charles offers.
“Thank you,” I say, taking another drink to finish what’s left.
“I don’t date often,” Charles chuckles nervously. “Anyway, where are you from? Somewhere around here?”
“The suburbs,” I answer. “Grew up there, went away to college, and moved back to Chicago for work. I just got a job at York Financial.”
“No shit? They turned me down. I’m over at Pendleton,” he says.
“That was my number two,” I admit, reaching for the wine when Daisy brings it over. “I’ve heard it’s a good place to work.”
“We don’t have an Ice Queen,” he says. “But we still make money.”
We continue talking and he asks about my family life.
I tell him the same story I tell everyone.
My mother died when I was little. I’ve never met my father.
Don’t even know his name. My mother took that to her grave, and like it usually does, talking about my family makes me a little sad. I have to blink away a couple of tears.
“Oh gosh, I’m terrible at dating,” Charles chuckles nervously. “I’m already making you cry. That usually doesn’t happen until I bore them to tears.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, waving off his concern. “Why don’t you give me your number? We’re both in finance. Maybe we could get a drink sometime and continue to debate the finer points of working for the Ice Queen or Mr. Pendleton.”
“I’d love that,” he says, smiling as he writes down his number.
Charles is the best candidate so far. Mainly because I know we’d have something to talk about other than the things I hate discussing on first dates. After Charles walks away, Daisy approaches, but she has to hand out a couple of beers before she makes it to the end of the bar.
“So, how’s it going?” she asks, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Meet any interesting guys?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I shrug. “I mean, I didn’t feel any fireworks or anything. The last guy seems nice, but I’m not sure he’s Mr. Right.”
“Mr. Right Now could be good enough,” she teases. “No reason to sit around waiting for Mr. Right. If he comes along, he comes along. If he doesn’t, at least you could have some fun looking for him.”
“I suppose, but I’d still like to feel some kind of connection,” I sigh.
“You don’t need to feel a connection to get your cherry popped. Trust me,” Daisy giggles, giving me a nudge across the bar. “You’re old enough to start having fun, Ansley. Live a little! I’ll find your next date.”
“No, I’m done with that,” I say, shaking my head. “Plus, I can’t keep downing glasses of wine so they can buy me another one. I’m already feeling it.”
“Alright, suit yourself. I got people who need drinks!” Daisy hurries towards a guy who is trying to flag her down.
I spin my glass of wine, relieved that I don’t have to finish it quickly or sit through another conversation with some random guy.
I kind of feel like I’m chickening out, but I collected a few phone numbers.
I might actually give Charles a call. We’ll see if I still feel that way after the wine has worn off.
The night seems to drag on without Daisy sending eligible bachelors my way. I’ve never been a big fan of bars, especially when they’re this loud. I’ll have a headache tomorrow from the noise, even if I escape the wine hangover. Thank goodness I don’t have to work.
After discussing my family, some thoughts linger.
It’s hard for me to remember my mom. I’m not sure I could actually remember her face if I didn’t have photographs.
I remember a period of sadness. Lots of crying because she was gone.
Lots of hugs from my grandmother. But eventually, life had to go on. My grandfather made sure of that.
Then I met Daisy, and it’s hard to be sad when she’s around.
“Ready for more wine?” Daisy asks, sliding over so fast it’s almost like she appears in front of me. “I promised you wouldn’t pay for one all night, and I meant it, so this one is on me.”
“I should probably go,” I sigh, sliding my glass towards her.
“What? It’s Friday night. The party has barely gotten started,” Daisy laughs. “One more glass, at least. If you want to go after that, I’ll walk you out. I’ll get Mac to come out of his office and watch the bar for me.”
“Alright, fine. One more glass,” I relent, nodding in agreement.
Some of the crowd at the bar thins and I feel a little more comfortable.
Except I feel a strange sensation, like I’m being watched.
I try to shake it off, then look around the bar.
I’m sure it’s just the alcohol until I see a guy in the corner who actually is staring at me.
We make eye contact for a moment, but I look away.
I take another sip of my wine and glance at him.
His dark-eyed stare is still locked on me, and he’s hard to miss.
I’m surprised I didn’t notice him when he came in.
He’s got a thick, rugged physique, dressed in a long-sleeved red flannel shirt and jeans.
His hair is black with hints of charcoal gray, tossed back like it’s intentionally meant to look messy.
A beard that’s a shade darker adorns a chiseled jawline.
He reaches for his beer, not looking away, and nods to me before he takes a sip. I turn away again.
“Okay, we’re in a bar. It’s not that weird for someone to be staring at me. He probably saw me talking to a lot of different guys tonight,” I mutter to myself, taking a sip of my wine.
I feel a strange tingle between my legs. A pulsing heat in my core. That’s never happened before, and I don’t think it’s just the wine. None of my speed-dates made my body hum. I try to shake it off, but every time I glance over my shoulder, the man is still staring.
“I could go talk to him. Nothing wrong with that…” I think, with an internal sigh. “He’s pretty hot. Daisy would probably tell me to go for it. Hell, she’d probably run over there and drag him to the counter just so we could meet.”
I get up from the stool, but chicken out before I can convince myself to go through with it. Instead of walking over to him, I walk straight to the bathroom like it was my original destination.
The strange tingle is still there. The pulsing heat is too. I put my hands on the bathroom counter and take a deep breath.
“He doesn’t have to be Mr. Right,” I say, staring at myself in the mirror. “Just Mr. Right Now. That’s what Daisy said.”
Good advice? I’m not sure. But after gathering my courage in the bathroom, I decide I’ll go for it. He’s staring at me for a reason. I can introduce myself. There’s no harm in that. If it feels weird or I don’t feel a connection after talking to him, I’ll politely excuse myself.
I step out of the bathroom with all the courage I can muster, but then my heart sinks into my stomach.
The seat he was in is empty, and so is his glass.
I wait for a few minutes, just in case he went to the bathroom like I did, but after several guys go in and out, it doesn’t seem likely, so I return to the counter.
“Everything okay?” Daisy asks as she walks up to me.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing towards the empty chair. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m ready to go, though. Walk me out?”
“Let me get Mac,” Daisy says, turning away. “Mac! Come watch the bar for a second!”
That appears to be all that getting Mac entails. Daisy walks around the bar, hooks her arm in mine, and we walk to the door. The fresh air feels good once we’re outside. Clean air, too, instead of the smoky city haze that has already made my throat somewhat scratchy.
“Call an Uber. I’ll wait with you,” Daisy says.
“I could… walk,” I say apprehensively, then a strange shudder sweeps through me. The same sensation I felt before I realized the man was staring at me. “No, you’re right. I’m wearing heels.”
I request an Uber through the app, then make small talk with Daisy while we wait. She’s excited about all the numbers I collected. She hopes I’ll actually use them. I’m still not sure. I’m not even sure I want to call Charles after the reaction I had to the other guy.
My Uber arrives and I say goodnight to Daisy as we hug each other tightly.
Even after I get into the car, I still feel the strange sensation of being watched.
With it comes the tingle and the pulse. I don’t understand why my body is reacting this way to someone I didn’t even talk to.
For all I know, he would have been boring or annoying.
But the way he looked at me… what was that in his eyes? Hunger? I shudder just thinking about it. Nobody has ever looked at me like that, even the guys Daisy introduced me to tonight.
When the Uber pulls up in front of my apartment building, I feel the sensation again when I step out onto the sidewalk. I quickly hurry to my apartment building, but even when I get inside, I don’t breathe an easy breath until I’m back in my apartment with the door bolted shut.
Safe at home.
That’s where a girl like me belongs on Friday night.