Chapter 22 - Spencer
Chapter Twenty-Two - Spencer
Doesn’t matter that I’m surrounded by people, I’m still lonely as I sit here staring at the door waiting for Andie.
I’ve been sitting here so long the waiter probably thinks I’ve been stood up—which, technically, I have.
An hour late isn’t fashionable. It’s a statement.
She either forgot or something’s wrong. And with Andie, my gut says it’s the latter.
In business, I have a three-strike rule—you waste my time once, I’ll be cautious.
Twice, I’ll be skeptical. Three times, you’re out completely.
I’ve walked away from numerous deals when people wouldn’t respect my time.
Yet here I am, giving Andie a pass without hesitation.
Something about her has me completely rewiring the usual standards I’ve set.
I’m usually not one to be trifled with, and I am known to be scary calm under pressure.
But Andie has me abandoning all of that, going places emotionally that I never thought I could feel.
I don’t think I misread any signals. The time and location that we were going to meet was pretty clear.
We’ve been texting for days, and I thought we were both on the same page.
She seemed excited from what I could gather in our conversations.
To be honest, so was I. I’ve dated my fair share of women in the past, but I can’t remember the last time I was nervous and eager to go out with someone.
Andie is guarded, and I have every intention of figuring out why and changing it so she lets down her walls, allowing me in.
Regardless of my desire for this evening, I’m still an impatient individual waiting for my date to show up, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why she isn’t here.
I check my phone for the twentieth time, rereading the text I sent thirty minutes ago asking if she’s okay.
Nothing. Not even those three little dots that show she’s typing.
I’ve gone from annoyed to worried in record time.
The thought crosses my mind that maybe someone hurt her—an ex, maybe that’s why she’s so guarded—and I feel something dark and protective simmering in my chest. I barely know this woman and I’m already imagining what I’d do to anyone who dares to hurt her.
My fingers drum on the white tablecloth as I loosen my tie yet again—a nervous habit I thought I’d kicked years ago. This woman has me coming undone, and she’s not even here to witness it.
I’ve been here for over an hour and I’m about to leave. I’m fully aware of how this looks—a successful businessman abandons a dinner reservation to chase after a woman who’s probably just changed her mind.
Evan would have a field day with this. Spencer Tate, chasing after a girl?
Call the newspapers, we have a breaking story!
But this doesn’t feel like chasing. It feels like assuring that someone I care about is safe.
The fear of the unknown has taken over me, and I need to make sure she’s all right, that this is just an unfortunate misunderstanding.
The possibility that I’m overreacting crosses my mind, but I don’t think I am. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but from what I do know, this doesn’t seem like her. The few times we’ve been together, she strikes me as more of an on-time, if not early, kind of girl.
She gives off the energy of wanting your respect, which usually means she’ll give respect right back to you.
Her being this late doesn’t sit well with me, giving me a foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach.
She hasn’t responded to any of my calls or messages yet, and with every passing minute I’m more and more sure something happened.
I remember how she froze at the Willis Tower, paralyzed by her fear of heights. How she’d clutched my hand like I was the only thing keeping her from falling, almost as if she was trying to keep a connection between us, tethering us together.
Someone like that doesn’t just not show up without a reason. Something’s not right here, and whatever pride I might sacrifice by checking on her is worth the peace of mind.
“I’m sorry, sir, I just wanted to check and see if I can get you anything?” The waiter has been patient with me and while I’ve ordered a few drinks, he’s starting to get antsy waiting for my date so that we can order dinner.
“No, thank you. Actually, can I just get the check?” I leave a tip large enough to compensate for occupying the table for so long. It’s a busy night for them and the last thing this poor guy needs is to lose out on money because I was waiting for a date who never showed.
A curt nod to the waiter on my way out and I’m rushing to Andie’s place.
The more I think about all the reasons she may not have come, the more my imagination goes wild.
I find myself panicking that she might actually be hurt.
I have no idea what I’ll do or how I will react when I see her.
All I know is I’m on autopilot and I won’t stop till I see with my own two eyes that she’s okay.