Ghosted
two
The picture that Haedyn sent minutes ago is hard to look away from. God, she looks stunning. Elegant and powerful. The picture-perfect queen. We’ve been talking back and forth since we matched a few months ago on some hookup app. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to get on those things to actually hook up with your matches, like a one night stand kind of deal, but that’s not really my style.
I don’t think it’s Haedyn’s either, though, because she seemed super nervous to meet me in person. Hell, she’s still halfway shy over the phone, and it’s been over two months. Even tonight, coaxing her through phone sex, I could tell she was experimenting with something outside her comfort zone. Granted, I’m glad she feels comfortable enough with me to do so, but it just proves my suspicion that she wasn’t exactly looking for some rando to bang and then leave.
But if that’s true, then why hasn’t she responded to me? Maybe I pushed her too far. Though it’s not like I asked for the picture or the outfit. A rock falls into the pit of my stomach as a thought registers. The picture might not have been for me. I desperately hope that’s not the case because the way I’m starting to feel for her is too intense to let go so easily. She’s crawled beneath my skin and made a home there.
If she’s not feeling the same way that I am, I’ll be crushed. It’s only been since she and I started talking that I’ve been able to enjoy waking up again. My dad’s health has been declining rapidly over the last year since his stroke. He’s the reason that I became enraptured by the art of making food.
Growing up, he did most of the cooking. Mom couldn’t make toast without setting off the smoke detectors. Thank goodness Dad had a job where he could be home every night to make sure we didn’t starve. He always wanted to open up his own restaurant, but his dream didn’t become a reality until I graduated from culinary school and opened my first one, Bourbon Beef, five years ago.
Dad was a godsend in getting the place up and running from developing the menu and even coming up with the name. I was fresh out of school, where I learned all about cooking but not much about starting and managing a business. You almost need two different degrees to do it successfully. His accounting degree came in handy working out the kinks of start up costs and whatnot.
Mom designed the whole look of both Bourbon Beef and The Open Flame, putting her interior design degree to good use. She was well-known around Bossier City, LA where I grew up, and they still live. It’s only about a four-hour drive from here, so I can still keep in touch and visit as often as work permits.
I try to make it down that way at least a couple times a month, though it’s been a while since my last visit. Up until about thirty minutes ago, I was thinking it’d be a bit longer until I made it back to see them because my time would’ve been occupied by a certain brunette. The more time that passes without a response, I worry that she’s trying to ghost me, but I refuse to go down without a fight.
If the picture was for someone else, she’s going to have to tell me. No bullshit. That’s what we both agreed upon before we started to talk more seriously. While we haven’t had the exclusive talk yet, I feel a claim on her that I can’t explain. She’s the most interesting woman I’ve ever talked to. I can gather that her childhood had its hurdles, but she hasn’t gone into further detail, nor have I asked her to. She can keep her secrets about her past, but her present is another story. I feel like I deserve a proper dumping at the very least.
Determined to get what I deserve, l search the web for places to eat in Dovehaven, Mississippi. She only lives about twenty minutes from The Open Flame, which doubles as my apartment and my restaurant. I live in the loft space upstairs. I had a house in Louisiana, but when I wanted to open another place, I decided to sell and make this little space for myself here. It’s nothing fancy, but it doesn’t need to be for just me. I’m sure eventually I’ll want something bigger with a nice yard out back.
Haedyn works at some bar that doubles as a restaurant, I think. Bar is in the name, I know for sure. The closest thing I could pull up was The Dairy Bar off of Second Street. That’s got to be it even though there’s no way this little mom-and-pop place supplies alcohol.
It sits almost in the dead center of town, which would benefit my reasoning for stopping by on my way through to the vineyard outside of town to meet with a new wine rep for my place. I’d been in the back stock room figuring out what I’ll need to order from the vineyard when I got abducted by a sexy leather outfit and strong cutting brown eyes boring into my soul through the phone. A worthwhile distraction, no doubt.
“Hey, boss. What are you doing back down here so late? Need a pick me up?” Matt asks with a small chuckle as he grabs a refill for the bar tap and heads back to the door he just entered.
“Yeah, something like that,” I answer, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly, not wanting to let my personal issues bleed through to my professional relationships. Matt’s a good guy, truly one of the best bartenders I’ve ever seen, and I think the world of him. I just don’t make a habit of sharing too much personal information with employees, especially when The Open Flame has only been open for six months. No need to complicate an already trying time. Plus, I’ve always been more of a loner, anyway.
When I can lose myself in making food, my head is clear and I don’t have to worry about reality. Nothing matters but the end product. Waiting for the perfect moment to pull it away from the heat and nurture it to its delicious potential.
Turning to head back up to the loft, I nod at several passing waitresses on my way to my office. The door in the back corner is the only way to get to the living quarters. I didn’t want there to be any room for tipsy patrons to mosey their way up to my personal space.
Once upstairs and settled on the couch with a cold beer, I solidify my plan to meet my girl face to face tomorrow by procured accident. If she rejects me, I’ll take it like a man and disappear. The likelihood of us running into each other afterward would be slim, so at least, I’d only have to face the sting once.
If something else is going on, and I catch even the slightest hint that she still likes me, all bets are off. She has been pretty reserved for most of our digital relationship which makes me think she is scared and trying to hide from her feelings. Usually, my ability to read people doesn’t steer me wrong. Here’s to hoping Haedyn is no exception. Toasting myself inwardly, I turn on the whatever action movie I come to first and eventually doze off.