2. Now
Chapter 2
Now
A ll I’m saying is if you see Nick again .. . Amy’s words ring in my ear to the point that I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating the familiar stranger standing at the Starbucks counter in front of me ... or if it’s really Nick collecting bills back from the barista and a plucking a paperboard cup carrier for his order.
Turning around, he grins and greets me when I walk in. “Hey, there.”
I tilt my head and continue appraising the situation. Cups are slung behind the bar, multiple syrups are pumped, and espresso upon espresso is brewed and added to the recipes with urgency.
“I took a chance.” Nick bites his lip, and I can’t help but smile a little. Point Nick .
“And what if I didn’t come in?”
He shrugs. “I guess I would have given them to the guy on that last stool by the bathroom.”
I spin around to see another regular, dressed in head-to-toe flannel, with his headphones in, typing furiously on his laptop while his leg twitches the entire time like it always does.
“You were going to give the entire order to Dave?”
“You know him?” he gapes.
I shake my head. “Well, I know of him. He’s always here around this time, dressed like that, way too hopped up on caffeine … which is why I doubt you would have given him much more than water.”
Nick’s eyebrows rise slightly into a question. “Well, you don’t really know me—I’m pretty generous with coffee.”
“You’re right. I don’t really know you, and that is exactly something a serial killer would say. You’re not a closet murderer are you, Nick?” Damn Amy for getting that thought in my brain.
He’s quiet.
Damn me for asking. I look down at my watch and shift my feet. “Oh, okay, well, look at the time. I should be going.”
I rush out the door. Why did I ask the nicest guy I’ve met in months if he’s a serial killer? Why didn’t he say anything? Kate don’t turn arou—
I turn around.
His eyebrows are creased in concern.
“Oh hey. Sorry about that, back there, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m not a serial killer … which I know is exactly what a serial killer would say, but I promise: I’m just a guy who likes a girl and wants to impress her with a gesture of goodwill. But looking back now, I can see how this could have been seen as coming on a bit strong.”
I fidget.
“Okay, how about this: please hold these.” He hands me the coffee and digs his right hand into his suit jacket, coming out with a business card. “Here’s my card. You can research me if you want and make up your own mind.”
“Sure, but I doubt all the bodies of the women in your basement would come up on a Google search.” Omg, can I not keep my damn mouth shut?
I hand him his cup and his eyes, honest to God, twinkle. “You’d be surprised.”
I stick his card in the middle of the coffee carrier and turn on my heel. “See you around, Nick Scott.”
“See you around, Kate Dailey.”
I walk a few steps closer to the hustle and bustle of city life, a crowd of people running around to hop in a cab or get on the subway, but today, I don’t notice cabs honking or lifelong New Yorkers groaning when tourists cut them off on the sidewalk. I’m too busy trying to hide the smile on my face. I look behind me, hopeful, but Nick’s already long gone. “But you,” I say to the business card, “you’re a nice touch.” I add his contact to my phone before I can think better of it and stuff the card in my bag.
I’m still replaying the conversation, flipping his card over in my hand, as I open the door at Q Magazine. I walk down the hallway to the conference room and hand Amy the coffee tray for the weekly Editors Only meeting, nodding when she utters, “You’re an angel.”
As I approach my desk, still head up in the clouds, I text Nick before I can talk myself out of it.
KATE DAILEY: Hi … It’s Kate.
Groundbreaking start.
NICK SCOTT: Coffee Kate? Long time no talk.
KATE DAILEY: That’s me!
When did I become so cringe?
NICK SCOTT: Ha! Hey … any chance you’re free tonight? I was thinking of making a stop at my favorite restaurant.
I drum my fingers against my phone. What would Amy do? She wouldn’t even think twice about a hot date with a good meal.
KATE DAILEY: That sounds great.
After we get the details nailed down, I try focusing on my work for the New Year's issue, but not even the promise of a Reese Witherspoon feature can keep my attention. At five o’clock on the dot, I fly out of the office to feed and walk Hyla and get ready for the first date that’s brought butterflies in the better half of a decade.
The smokiness of sizzling steak fills the air outside of Sully’s. Nick’s waiting outside when my cab pulls up, the reflection of the city lights shimmering on the glass window behind him. His dark, wavy hair doesn’t have a strand out of place, his three-piece suit is a perfect fit, and there’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands.
“Hey there.” I stroll over to him in a long, black, silky dress, gray pashmina, and my trusted gray, knee-high boots.
“Hi, beautiful.” He smiles.
The same twinkle from yesterday lingers in his eyes, and I can’t help but smile, too. “I’m happy you asked to do dinner.”
“Ever been here?”
I shake my head. “I have not.”
“You’re in for a treat.” He lifts his eyebrows. “They have any kind of steak you could imagine, and their garlic mashed potatoes are the best I’ve ever had.”
I tilt my head. “Now, now—I’ll give you the steak, but my mama’s potatoes are pretty damn good.”
Nick laughs. “Alright, I know better than to argue with a girl about her mama’s cooking.”
As the hostess picks up a couple of menus and leads us to our table, I can’t help looking back at the man behind me. I can’t believe he looks like that in a suit.
He catches me staring and tilts his head as though asking, Checking me out?
I whip back around, my cheeks heated and flushed.
His hot breath tickles my ear. “I’m glad you said yes.”
Nick pulls a chair out for me, and my shoulders relax a bit. It’s just a date at a nice restaurant with a guy I’m interested in, who’s interested in me, too.
His kind, brown eyes gaze into my giddy blue ones. “Are you hungry? Would you like an appetizer?”
“Sure. What’s good here?”
He opens the front of the menu and ponders for a second before offering, “Cheesesteak Eggrolls?”
“Sounds great.” I close my menu after deciding on my steak and sides.
“Your tastebuds will thank you later.”
“That good?”
“Oh, they’re that good.”
His eyes shine in the light, and I’m captivated by his charm.
The server approaches, and we place our order while I focus on Nick and not my buzzing smartwatch. Whoever it is, they can wait.
“You’re a lawyer, huh?”
He snaps his fingers. “Business card gives it away every time.”
“What kind of law do you practice?” I unfold the table napkin and place it on my lap.
“I’m a corporate lawyer … which is a ton of paperwork and threatening to file more paperwork, instead of arguing in court.” He chuckles.
“Do you like it?”
His gaze drops. “Eh, could be better, could be worse. I like using the degree I sunk a ton of loans into, and I get to travel, which is cool. But I wish it was more exciting sometimes.”
I look down. “I know what you mean.”
“Oh? What do you do that you trek around Manhattan collecting coffee every morning?”
I smirk. “I’m an Editorial Assistant at a magazine downtown.”
“ Q?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
The server brings our drinks, and Nick sips his Octoberfest lager, then shifts his hand toward me.
“Lucy Lyons’ name has come up around the office,” he says.
I wrinkle my nose. “How so?”
“My boss went on a few dates with her. From what I understand, she is a little … difficult. Anyway, it didn’t work out because he can be a bit of a challenge, too.”
I extend my glass. “To surviving the day-to-day.”
“Here, here.” He clinks his drink against mine as our eggrolls arrive.
When my watch buzzes a second time, I tap the side button to send it to voicemail. I take a bite of the appetizer and a moan escapes my throat. “Damn.”
Nick nearly chokes on his eggroll.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. I think ever.”
“Wait until the main course.” His eyebrows raise in jest.
My face flames. “Oh. I can’t believe I said that.”
Nick smiles. “Oh no, I get it. Sully’s is the best restaurant in the city, hands down.”
I take another bite and sigh in ecstasy.
He lights up when the server brings the main course over. “How long have you lived here?”
I pretend to consider his question like I’ve forgotten how long it’s been, as if I could ever forget. “Oh, I don’t know, about six years, I guess. You?”
“Brooklyn born and raised,” he replies.
“Yeah? I’ve always wondered what it was like to grow up in a big city like this.”
“Amazing, if you don’t mind the constant noise and tourists everywhere.” He smirks. “It’s engrained in who I am, though. I couldn’t live anywhere else.”
“I’ve dreamed of living here my whole life, and now that I’m here, I can’t imagine leaving.” He cuts into his steak. “Mhm. Where did you grow up, if not a big city?”
“Sloane, Tennessee.” I take a bite of the garlic mash and rush to pick up another forkful. “Okay, my mama would be mad at these potatoes.”
“I told you they’re good.” He chuckles. “I’ve never heard of Sloane, but I go down to Nashville a few times a year for work.”
I nod. “Sloane’s thirty minutes outside of Nash. I was close enough to bright lights and tourists to crave it but far enough away that Sloane felt like a different world.”
“How so?”
“There’s all of three stop lights—and by three, I mean three individual lights, not this triage of lights we have here. There’s a decorative light on the corner of every house. Everyone knows everyone. You get the gist.”
He watches me, his gaze intent. “So, if the movies have it right, there’s one high school, football games as ‘the thing to do’ on Friday nights, and Prom King and Queen who date from the time they were in diapers and live Happily Ever After.”
“Exactly.” My heart pangs. But they don’t always live Happily Ever After.
“Ha, beat you!” Nick gestures to his clean plate.
“I don’t even know how you did that.” I look down at my half-full one. “I guess I’m having steak and eggs tomorrow morning.”
He lays his right hand over his chest. “Girl after my own heart.”
He winks, and it suits him. I want to smile and believe the sparkle in his eye, but the last time a guy said that to me, he broke my heart a few weeks later. I know better than to swoon or read more into this than it is. He’s a random guy in a city full of random guys. It’s a first date.
I know better.
Still, I can’t help the flutter in my stomach or the hope he’s somehow different from the man I left behind. Maybe he can be the one who helps me finally forget Jase.
Maybe.
As Nick helps me hail a cab after dinner, a bit of courage pours over me, and I say, “I had a really great time tonight.”
“Me too.” He smiles.
The cabbie pulls over, and I step inside the car.
“Hey, Kate Dailey—how about a second date at our Starbucks?”
Our Starbucks.
The sound of having ‘our’ anything warms my heart. I put my hand up to the window and try winking at him, but I end up blinking an eyelash into my eye. My love life’s done a complete three-sixty in the last thirty-seven hours, and I can’t contain my grin.
My phone rings, and Amy’s image flashes on the screen. “Hey, you were right,” I answer. “Went on a date with Coffee Guy, and I’m on my way home now. He’s … remarkable.”
“Kate.” Amy’s clips my name, and I freeze. “Your mom’s been trying to get in touch with you.”
Everything around me fades except for an oversized lump forming in my throat. “What—what happened?”
“I’m going to be at your apartment in ten minutes. We’ll talk in person, okay?”
“Ame, tell me,” I plead.
Her voice falls. “It’s ... your dad. He’s sick, and your mom doesn’t know if he’s … going to make it.”
My entire body goes limp, causing my phone to crash in the footwell.
I don’t remember the rest of what she says, what I reply, when I get back to my apartment, how I remembered to pick my phone off the ground, or how I packed for a trip for an undisclosed amount of time. All I know is a short while later, Amy, Hyla, and I are en route to Sloane.
For the first time in six years, we’re heading home.