Chapter Fifteen
Oliver
Istop at a flower shop before my date with Ally. Amongst the display of elaborate sprays and pick-your-own items, a bouquet of pink and red peonies catches my eye. The man behind the counter wraps them up in brown paper and twine for me, and I head to Ally’s apartment.
“Hi.” Her smile lights up the dim hallway when she opens the door to her apartment. She is breathtaking. Her long auburn hair is straight and shiny, her hazel eyes sparkle, and her green dress hugs all her curves to perfection.
“Hi,” I echo while stepping into her apartment as she steps back to let me in. “These are for you.” I hand her the peonies.
“They’re beautiful. I love the colors, and they’re one of my favorite flowers,” she says while giving me a welcoming hug. “You’re also right on time. I love that.”
“Of course. I hate to be late. I find it disrespectful of the other person’s time.”
“Two points for Oliver,” she cheers.
“Are you keeping some kind of score?”
“I’m going to be straight up honest with you. I’m not very trusting. It takes me a while to let down my guard and while you have been a perfect gentleman when we’re together, I’d just like to make sure you are, in fact, not a psycho killer.”
“I thought you’d figured out by now that I’m not.”
“Or I’d be dead already?” she laughs.
“I’m glad you have a sense of humor. I really did have to do research for my books, you probably never want to see my search history, but it’s all fiction. My mother would have my head if I weren’t a perfect gentleman to any woman.”
“I think I like your mother. So where are we going tonight?”
“Martino’s,” he says. “Have you been?”
“No. I’ve heard good things though.”
“Their food is amazing. You’ll love it. It’s a special place to me. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” I help her into it her jacket, then she grabs her purse before locking up.
*
When the cabpulls up in front of Martino’s, the warm glow of the Edison bulbs give off a welcoming, homey feeling, and I can’t wait to share this experience with her.
I take her hand to help her out of the cab and don’t let go. She doesn’t pull away and we walk hand in hand into the restaurant and to the table. We pass several white linen-covered tables with fine china plates and crystal candle holders in the middle of each one. The dim lighting continues the cozy feel of the lights outside and gives off a romantic vibe.
“This place is beautiful,” she says as I pull out her chair for her and she takes a seat on the curved back, leather chair.
“Yes. It makes me feel like I’m back in Italy,” I tell her as I take mine.
“You’ve been?” she asks.
“Yes. Have you?”
“I’ve never been out of the country,” she admits.
“We need to remedy that.”
“How so?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Are you going to take me?”
“Maybe. But you’d have to be my girlfriend first, so I guess it depends on how this date goes,” I jest.
“Girlfriend, huh? You think dangling a trip to Italy will make me instantly sign up for that role?” She sits up straight and places her hand on her hip.
I hold out my hand. “That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just that Italy is so romantic that I’d like to experience it with a special someone the next time I go. I wasn’t putting any pressure on you at all.”
“Oh.” She places her napkin on her lap and looks at the menu. I feel like her response wasn’t her normal playful banter.
“Ally, did I say something wrong?” She looks over the top of the menu at me.
She holds up her hand in apology. “I’m sorry. My last serious boyfriend was controlling and I started to lose myself but thankfully we broke up before it went too far. So, I’d just like to see how things go naturally and not use labels so quickly.”
“I see. I’d like to take things at whatever speed you are comfortable with. No pressure.” I sit back in my chair and adjust the napkin on my lap.
“So, if I said I wanted to take you on this table right now, you’d be okay with it?” she jokes.
“I’d be happy to honor the lady’s wishes. However, I would prefer a more secluded area.” We both laugh. “In all sincerity though, I’m not like that at all. I want you to know that when I hold the door open for you or pull out your chair it’s a sign of respect. I know you are a modern woman capable of doing such things on your own, but I want you to know you are special to me and that’s why I do it.”
“Thank you,” she says, and I leave it at that, knowing I got my point across. She looks back down at the menu.
“Do you know what you’d like to have?”
“How about you pick,” she says.
“Did you not just say you don’t like controlling men?”
“Yes, but you’ve been here before, and I’d like to have your favorite dish.” She hands me her menu looking pleased with herself and sits back.
“You got it!” When the waiter comes, I order fried zucchini with their garlic aioli sauce, Fettuccini Alfredo with meatballs, and a large Caesar salad.
“I’ve never had fettuccine with meatballs before.”
“You’ll be glad I ordered. Their sauces are homemade delicious goodness, and I could eat the meatballs all by themselves, but the marinara sauce they are cooked in mixes with the Alfredo and creates this rose sauce and—” Allison reaches out and wipes my chin with her napkin.
“You had a little drool coming out there.” She laughs, letting me know she’s just teasing me.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there was. It’s my favorite meal. And wait till you try the fresh rolls they bring.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Did you want any wine?” I ask.
“I would, but since the last time I had wine didn’t go over so well, I’ll stick with the water. Thank you for making a bad situation better.”
“My pleasure. So, besides yoga, what else are you interested in?”
“I also do Tai Chi and eat small individual meals because I hate leftovers.”
“As someone who benefits from you foregoing leftovers, I approve of this interesting preference.”
“Is it so fascinating?” She raises a brow.
“I think so. I think those little things are what make people interesting. It’s where their personalities and character evolve from. Maybe it’s just the writer in me.”
“I know what you mean, the little things can add up to a lot of big things.”
“Tell me more about your job and these samples you get,” I say with a wink, remembering how I had to carry a box of sex toys down two, egregiously long city blocks.
“Are you referring to any samples in particular?” She blushes.
“Perhaps.” I grin, egging her on.
“They aren’t all as fun as that box.”
“Fun? So, you tried them?” I ask.
“I…Well…Uh…You know.” I give her the, you’ve been caught, look. “Fine!” she huffs. “Yes. I did. But only one…and only once,” she rushes out.
“And?”
“And what?” she asks as if she doesn’t know what I’m getting at.
“And, did they get a good review from you?” Her cheeks turn bright red, and she stares at her lap.
“If you must know, all my products get good write-ups because that’s my job. It’s not a review, it’s a description about the product, so it’s always positive and informative,” she clarifies, straightening her back and looking me in the eye.
“Gotcha.” I muffle a laugh behind my napkin.
“For example,” she continues and I look at her with a serious face. “I just worked on a protein shake that was absolutely disgusting.”
“What’s it called? You know, so I can steer clear of it.”
“Liquid Moo,” she announces with a straight face, but then her eyes get big and she suddenly can’t control her laughter. The sound is a jolt to my system. I start laughing along with her. We get some stares from the other tables, but I couldn’t care less because I’m having a great time with Ally. Once she’s composed herself again, she gives me a serious look.
“Actually, I’d rather not say. He’s a personal trainer I work with. Great guy. He’s starting his own line of products for his clients. He works in California. I just updated his website, and he said since I didn’t care for this shake, I could help him taste test the next round of them. I’m actually excited about it. I’ll get to fly out there. Maybe I’ll tell you once I approve of his recipe.”
“Fly out to California to meet up with some guy who’s all fit?” I ask, testing the waters.
“Oh, it would be strictly professional of course.” She sits up and pats my arm for reassurance.
“Uh, huh. Do you know anything about this guy? I mean, you were worried I was a psycho killer, so how do you know he’s not?”
“Not too much. He dates models, so clearly, I wouldn’t be his cup of tea.”
“Why would you say that? You’re gorgeous.” She rolls her eyes.
“That’s kind of you to say, but we all have things we don’t like about ourselves.”
“I’m sure models feel the same way. Everything on display, trying to look perfect all the time,” I explain, trying to make her feel better.
“True. I might not love my imperfections but I’m glad I can enjoy dessert every once in a while.”
I’m looking at her and I don’t see any imperfections. But I can see where the last guy did a number on her because someone as kind, funny, and beautiful as she is should not have any confidence issues.
“Anyway,” she continues, “he seems sweet, and we chat about his business, and sometimes his personal life, but I tend to talk more than he does. If you can imagine.” She laughs at her self-deprecation. “Plus, didn’t you watch Legally Blonde? Endorphins make you happy and happy people don’t kill people.” She gives me a wicked grin, and I know she’s back to playful Ally and have nothing to worry about.
“That is true, but no I haven’t,” I admit sheepishly.
“You haven’t watched Legally Blonde? And you write crime fiction? It’s about a lawyer!”
“It looked a little too girly for me.”
“Oh, macho man, we are soooo watching it together!”
“Bossy, bossy,” I tease her.
“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she fake pouts. “It would involve popcorn, a couch, and some snuggling in the dark, but hey, if you don’t want to, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” She gives me a sly smile and sits back in her chair. Did she just let her guard down?
I don’t have a chance to respond because the appetizer arrives and we dig in.