Chapter 7
SEVEN
Zara
I should have gone home to change, I realize with a start the moment I step into the restaurant. Everyone around me looks elegant and put together while I feel frumpy in my wrinkled trousers.
When I left home this morning, I had no plans of doing anything after work. In fact, I never have plans for after work because the best part of my day is going back home after so many hours in the office.
Today is different, though. As I was checking my Holidates messages during my lunch hour, hoping to find a message from one of the men who blew me off before, I was surprised to see that the one guy who came out of nowhere responded.
Upon inspecting the questionnaire he sent back, I had no complaints.
While the responses were important to me, even more important was the fact that he put in the effort to fill it out.
That’s something none of the other ones were willing to do, and it tells me that he is a decent person.
The only con he had in his column so far was that, based on his zip code, he lived closer than I would’ve liked, but I let go of that.
I asked if he wanted to meet today, but I didn’t have my hopes up about it. His messages threw me for a loop. He sounded… fun. That is not something I’ve ever experienced. I like studious guys who take life seriously. This guy, Kyle, gave all sorts of fun vibes.
That’s how I now find myself in the lobby of the restaurant he suggested, regretting that I didn’t put more effort into my appearance.
“How many in your party?” the friendly hostess asks when I make my way to her little podium.
“Two,” I say with a lot more confidence than I feel.
I watch as she grabs two menus before walking toward a booth. She gives me a sweet smile that I have a hard time returning. I am too nervous about it.
“A server will be with you shortly,” she tells me.
I nod in understanding, then let out a quiet sigh of relief when she doesn’t push any further.
Following her departure, I debate for a second which side of the booth I want to sit on.
In the end, I decide on the one that will allow me to watch as people come in, hoping that Kyle Kelly looks like the picture he posted on the app, and that I’ll be able to recognize him.
By the time I am finally seated, I feel flushed, and I almost pick up the menu to fan myself with it.
Instead, I pull out my cell phone and place it on the table, making sure to check the time.
It is five fifty-two, so he technically has eight minutes to get here.
Of course, a gentleman would make sure to get here earlier, but I would accept him just being on time.
So as long as he walks through that door when the clock turns six, I’m happy.
I fidget with the phone, moving it up and down, then giving it a quick spin.
When a waitress shows up, I order some water, then continue to wait.
Every so often, I tap on my phone to check the time.
Each minute passes painstakingly slow, to the point where I wonder if my phone actually works.
It makes me want to wear a watch, like the old school kind, not a smart watch or anything like that.
After what feels like an eternity, it finally turns to five fifty-nine.
I glance around the restaurant, almost expecting for all the other patrons to be on pins and needles while we all watch the entrance in expectation of Kyle Kelly’s arrival.
My hands become sweaty, and my breathing feels shallow. It’s all incredibly ridiculous. This is not a real date by any means. There should be no reason for me to be this nervous about meeting this man for the very first time. Yet, I can’t snap out of it.
I once again tap on the screen of my phone, watching in horror as the time turns to six o’clock. That is the time I told him to be here. I thought I’d made it very obvious how important punctuality was for me.
For some inexplicable reason, my eyes fill with water. I am very familiar with disappointment, and it should not affect me in the way that it does in this moment.
I tap on the clock app and watch the seconds as they go buy, promising myself that the moment in turns to six oh-one, I am out of here. I refuse to wait on anyone, deciding that I don’t have to prove myself to my brother after all. Not sure why him challenging me even registered.
However, I am shaken to the core by the thought that my mother is actually dating someone. Meanwhile, I can’t get a man to go on a fake date with me.
Suddenly, there’s a bit of commotion by the door. I turn my head just in time to see someone rushing by the hostess, not even bothering to talk to her. His eyes look wild as they scan everyone around the restaurant, going over each table until they land on me.
“Zara?” he mouths.
I nod in confirmation, completely removed from reality while in this moment. Kyle Kelly is finally here, and I am about to slide under the table as I expire from a heart attack.
He drops in the seat opposite from me, completely out of breath.
“It’s still six,” he says to me, his breathing so heavy, I can barely make out the words. “I’m not late.”
He lifts up his phone to show it to me. I stare at it without blinking for a full two seconds, then watch as it turns to six oh-one.
“This doesn’t count,” Kyle tells me, sounding like he’s panicking. “It was still six-zero-zero when I sat down.”
Unsure of how to respond, I just nod. And stare. I do a lot of that.
The picture of Kyle Kelly shared on the Holidates app did not do him justice. He looked attractive for sure, but now that he is in front of me in the flesh, I am blown away by how handsome he actually is. His hair is very messy, like he’s been running his hands through it a lot.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he brings his hands up and does just that. When he notices me looking, he gives me a sheepish grin.
“I took a nap with wet hair. I normally don’t look like this.”
I shake my head this time, confused about what he’s telling me.
“Did you take a nap before coming here?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he laughs self-consciously. “I’d been up all night working, and when you messaged that you’d like to meet today, I figured I’d shower. Then,” he says in an overly dramatic tone. “The bed looked so inviting, you know? I was out the second my head hit the pillow.”
“That’s good,” I murmur.
Everything about him so far is throwing me off. I want to ask him so many questions, but I just can’t find the words. So I continue staring and waiting for him to carry the conversation.
“Before that, I was on the phone with a friend who was totally against me meeting you.” He laughs again.
That seems to be like a default for when he’s nervous. At least, I’m assuming that he’s nervous. I have no idea because my head is a jumbled mess at the moment.
“Why, uh…” I pause and swallow hard. “Why did you friend say you shouldn’t meet me?”
Kyle shrugs. “He has some personal issues that he likes to take on others. Nobody really understands him very well.”
“Oh.” That’s all I can come up with.
“He means well, though.” Kyle continues telling me about this friend of his. “I think he’s head over heels in love with this chick, but he refuses to admit it. Now she’s seeing someone else, and he decided to take it all out on me.”
By the time he finishes talking, I have no idea what he just told me. I can’t follow him at all. Instead, I sit here, mesmerized by his incredible eyes that look bigger yet through the lenses of the glasses he’s wearing.
“I normally wear contacts,” Kyle comments when he notices me staring at his glasses. “But I was in a hurry to get here, and I didn’t want to waste more time trying to put them in.”
“I-I like the glasses,” I finally say. My voice sounds small and scared. I am neither of that, but I do feel intimidated by him. He is too good looking, and there is no way anyone would believe that he agreed to go out with me.
Kyle grins at me, showing off all his teeth. My heart almost can’t take it, especially when he stretches an arm over the table, then waits for me to do the same.
“I forgot to introduce myself when I got here,” he explains.
A little of my commonsense kicks in. “I do hope you’re not about to tell me that you’re not Kyle Kelly.”
“What?” he busts out laughing. “No way. I am in fact Kyle Kelly. And I sure hope that you’re Zara Bray,” he teases. “If not, this would be pretty damn embarrassing. Not that I’m complaining about the company. I never say no to a meal with a pretty lady.”
He winks at me, and I about melt into the seat. His flirting skills are top notch, and I bet he’s not even trying.
Since he still has his hand stretched out for me to shake, I do the same.
“I am Zara Bray,” I confirm to him. “And I was just about to walk out that door when you finally bothered to show up.”
“Zara!” He slaps a hand over his heart. “I am offended by your words. I was here just in the nick of time.”
I roll my eyes at him, trying my hardest to stay calm and not blush when he looks at me that way. I have to stay cool, calm and collected. That’s how I always am, but Kyle is getting under my skin a bad way, and in a very short period of time.
“My message clearly stated six o’clock sharp,” I remind him. “You were forty-five seconds late.”
“But my phone still said six zero-zero,” he insists. “That means I was here on time.”
“That’s just a technicality,” I say. “Had you bothered to look at the actual clock app where they show all three hands, you’d know that it was past six zero-zero, as you put it.”
Kyle’s mouth stretches into an even bigger smile than before. It’s as if he finds me amusing. I can’t tell why the realization doesn’t annoy me to no end. I’m pretty sure I’d find it condescending on any other man. But on Kyle Kelly, I find it adorable.
A small knot forms in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t know what’s happening to me, but me being attracted to this man was nowhere in the plan.
That reminds me that I do have a plan, and I need him to follow it to a T.
Somehow, I have a feeling that he’s not the type to do that.
I would stand up and leave if he wasn’t my only option.
“Forget about the technicalities, Zara Bray,” he says in an amused tone. “Let’s not allow forty-five seconds to make or break us.”
I frown at the way he worded that. “There is no us.”
He winks at me again, and I swear my heart wants to jump out of my chest and hug him.
“But there could be, right?”
The waitress chooses that exact moment to stop by for our orders. I watch in fascination when she has pretty much the same reaction to him that I did. The only difference is that she seems happy about it while I am scared to death.
“Let’s see… Appetizers…” Kyle taps his thumbs on the table while reading the menu. “It all looks really good.” He lifts his eyes to me, catching me once again mid stare. “Doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat and look away. “I’m not really into appetizers though. I know what I want.”
Kyle slaps a hand over the menu. “That’s a woman after my won heart. I’m ready, too, if you are.”
We place our respective orders, and the waitress finally leaves.
“Oh, she didn’t take our drinks,” Kyle says. He stands up, trying to get the waitress’ attention.
I look down at the glasses of water already in front of us.
“We already have drinks,” I point out the obvious.
Now, it is Kyle’s turn to look at me with confusion in his eyes.
“That’s water.” He explains it to me like I’m slow. “Not drinks.”
I lean back against the seat, taking him in. This is the most bizarre first date I’ve ever had. But then, I remind myself that his is not a date. Also to note, I haven’t been on a date in so long, I wouldn’t even know how to act. Exhibit A would be the current situation I found myself in.
“I don’t drink alcohol,” I finally say once I catch on what he is referring to.
He looks shocked. “Ever?”
“It’s not my thing,” I shrug. “Besides, it’s not attractive when a girl drinks herself under the table.”
The woman my father cheated on my mother with was a drinker.
She thought it was funny when she scared me and Owen with her antics when she had a good buzz.
Had I been older then, I would’ve understood right away that the fact that our father never intervened when that happened was a red flag that would eventually lead to him not showing up for us anymore.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Kyle agrees with me. “And I apologize if I put in an uncomfortable position.”
I move a little from side to side, clearly uncomfortable. “You didn’t.”
Kyle doesn’t buy it for a second, which only makes me feel like I am being put on the spot. The waitress is back to our table by now, and I pray that he won’t want to discuss with her my lack of drinking alcohol.
“I’ll have an iced tea,” Kyle tells her without taking his eyes off me. “What would you like, Zara?”
My face turns red when all the attention is on me. I clear my throat, which is something I seem to be doing a lot of tonight.
“I’ll stick with water, thank you.”
“One iced tea coming right up,” the cheerful waitress announces before turning around to leave.
“I thought you wanted a real drink,” I murmur once she’s out of earshot.
Kyle smiles at me, but this time, he’s not flirty, just… genuinely nice.
“I want you to be comfortable more,” he says.
If this was a real date, I’d be falling in love right about now.