Chapter 11 #2
I chuckle as I think about Adam and how he probably has a flirty smile playing on his lips right now. Instead of replying to Covey, I turn my complete attention to Adam. He turned my night around and I’d rather talk to him than listen to whatever excuses Covey has for me.
Cici: What would you have done then?
Adam: I would’ve searched the city for you.
Cici: It’s a pretty big city. I’d guess between people living in Philadelphia and commuters who work in Philadelphia, there’s at least two million people for you to search through. *grinning emoji*
Adam: On the bright side, only half of the population is female. So, I’m already down to one million people to search through.
Cici: Something tells me you’d give up pretty quickly.
Adam: Oh, ye of little faith. I’d say half of the women are blonde, so that brings me down to half a million.
Cici: Man, I wonder how long it would take you to comb through half a million.
Adam: Oh, I'm not done, sweetheart.
Adam: I’d say you’re under thirty. If google is correct, thirteen percent of the population would be between twenty and thirty. We already discussed how females make up half the population, so I'm down to six and a half percent… So, I'm down to sixty-five thousand women.
Adam: I’d definitely take on this challenge if it meant I was able to find you.
I can’t help but smile at how sweet he is. Though, I still don’t know if this is just flirting to pass his shift at work or if he’s actually interested in me.
Cici: I don’t know. That’s still a lot of people. And you’d have to be in the right place at the right time to even find me. I don’t go out much, which would make it even more difficult for you.
Adam: Well, your clothing suggests you probably came straight from work, though the dress could’ve been for dinner out with friends, I’m sticking with the straight from work idea. I’d guess you were within five blocks of where you work.
Cici: Still a lot of businesses in five blocks *laughing emoji*
Adam: See, you don’t trust my observational skills. You had a Pit Bulls keychain and your phone case matched. Something tells me you’re a big fan of the Pit Bulls baseball team and you go to their games. Now I'm down to around twenty thousand women, sweetheart.
Cici: Only twenty thousand women can like a baseball team?
Adam: Not at all, but the stadium only holds about forty thousand people. I’d be willing to bet more men go to games than women.
Adam: Dang! I almost forgot about the age group! I could be down to twenty-six hundred women!
Cici: I think you’re making way too many assumptions about women’s habits.
Adam: Well, your locked screen was an image of you and Cord Powell. It didn’t look like a fan picture. It seemed like you knew him a little more intimately than that, but not like you dated him.
Cici: Ew, no. I definitely didn’t date Cord.
Adam: I feel like the circle of women I’d need to search through is dwindling by the second.
Cici: How many women are we down to now?
Adam: One.
Cici: How did we go from twenty-six hundred to one?
Adam: Because you used a credit card, beautiful.
Adam: I searched and there’s only one Cicilia Powell in Philadelphia. Since there was a picture of you in the article, I think it’s safe to say I found you. *Winking emoji*
Cici: It feels like you cheated.
Adam: Hey, if that’s the only way I could see you again, I’d cheat over and over again.
I nibble on my bottom lip, wondering how much of this conversation is because he sincerely likes me and how much could just be a chronic flirt or because of who I am.
I like to pretend my name and status doesn’t matter, but it does. I'm Cicilia Powell. The heiress to the Scott, Powell, and Coleman company. The daughter of the Pit Bulls baseball owner and the sister of the best first basemen in professional baseball.
The Powell name comes with money, power, and attention. It draws people from all over and most of the time it’s not for good reasons. People want to know what they can get out of you and nothing more.
Adam: I know I'm probably not on your level in any way, but I’d really like to see you again, Cici.
Cici: Why would you think you’re not on my level?
Adam: Well, you’re this amazing woman who’s running an entire company that apparently is worth billions of dollars. Your dad owns an entire baseball team and your brother plays professional ball. I'm willing to guess you’re friends with a lot of pros and could have your pick of any of them.
Adam: I’d be dumb to think I really have a shot with you. I'm just a bartender at a small restaurant. I make enough money to support myself, but I’ll never be able to provide you with the things you’re used to.
Cici: Adam…
Adam: Who were you supposed to meet for dinner tonight?
Cici: Ron Covey.
Adam: I rest my case. You could do a lot better than me. Maybe I should just bow out gracefully before I make a fool of myself.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I try to figure out how to respond to Adam. He isn’t wrong in a certain sense. He’ll never be able to provide me with the same sort of life I could provide myself, but I'm not asking him to support me.
I could easily date someone of a higher status than a bartender, but clearly I haven’t done that yet.
Cici: Or maybe you should ask me out to dinner and see what I say.
Adam: Cici, will you go out for dinner with me next week?
Cici: I’d love to go out for dinner with you. What days are you free?