22. Gianna
This is not a date.It’s not even close to a date. Even if we’re going with a married couple and the optics of the dinner read like a date, that’s not what it is.
Then why did I go back to that little boutique and buy this brand new beautiful purple sweater dress for the occasion?
Cringing, I ignore that probing question. I swipe on some mascara and look right at myself in the mirror. Maybe this isn’t a real date, but I sure am acting like it might be.
Henry should be here any minute, and I’ve been psyching myself out all day thinking about this dinner. I’m excited. Honestly, a good Italian meal sounds great, but I’m worried that he might think this is something it’s not.
Despite how clear I’ve been and how understanding he is, I’m not entirely sure if going out to a presumably romantic dinner with Hank and Betty is the best idea.
Lines might get blurred.
Just as my head is about to burst with worry, I hear a knock at the door. Stepping out of the bathroom, I head to the door that leads out to Main Street, but when I check the peephole, I don’t see anyone. Confused, I look around and hear another, more insistent knock from the other door in the room.
I check the peephole there and see Cam. I pull the door open, hoping that whatever he needs doesn’t take long. There’s nothing I want less than to have to explain who Henry is and what we’re doing together.
“Why are you dressed like that?” The blunt question drops rudely out of his mouth. As always, he’s sporting a suit, although this time without the vest.
“Thank you, Cam. I thought this dress was really nice, too.”
“Where are you going?” Cam’s eyes narrow, and he folds his arms across his broad chest.
“Dinner.”
“A date?”
“Not a date.”
I can tell he’s curious and wants to ask more questions, but he stops. “We’ve got another meeting at The Wright Lodge tomorrow. We’re going to go over the marketing and do a walk-through of the grounds.”
“Okay, what time?”
“If we leave here at ten, we can grab a coffee on the way.” His lips almost tip up into a smile but stop short.
“Sounds good.” I wait for him to walk away across the hall to his room, but he stays standing there in front of me, a peculiar look on his face.
“Did you need anything else?”
“No, not at all. Have a nice dinner.” He turns on his heels, leaving me a little nervous and confused.
Once I shut the door, I hear a knock from the other one and breathe out a sigh of relief.
As glad I am that Cam and Henry seemed to have missed each other, I can’t help the heaviness settling on my chest.
Grabbing my jacket and purse from the desk, I go to answer the door for the second time tonight. When I open the door, my mouth almost drops open.
Henry’s dressed in black slacks, dress shoes, and a green sweater. His hair looks slightly more styled than usual and, as always, the scent of spice clings to the air around him.
He looks good. Really, really good.
“Gia, wow, you look…”
He trails off as he checks me out from head to toe, his eyes wide.
“Yeah?” A thread of uncertainty weaves its way into the word, and suddenly I’m wondering if the dress is not enough.
“Amazing. You look amazing. Are you ready?” He holds out his hand for me, and despite knowing better, I take it.
When we get to the restaurant, Henry parks and quickly gets out to open my door for me. He doesn’t take my hand again but makes sure to open the door to the restaurant for me too. At the host stand, he mentions Betty’s name, and we’re quickly whisked off toward the back.
The restaurant is playing quiet Italian music and really leaning into the romance with dim lighting. It’s pretty classically decorated, with simple tables and red tablecloths. Scents of garlic and fresh baked bread fill the space as much as the low murmurings of the other restaurant goers.
Hank and Betty are already seated at the table next to each other, enjoying some the fresh bread while they wait for us. Once we’re seated, we both snag some of the bread too and discover it’s actually garlic knots.
“You two made it.” Hank smiles, the move transforming his whole face. “We haven’t ordered yet, but the waitress should be over for our drink orders in a minute. The service has been great so far.”
“These garlic knots are incredible.” I grab another one and pull it apart. “There was a restaurant in a really small town in Vermont—Carraway Falls—that had better ones. They were the best I’ve ever had, but these come really close.” I smile at the memory of visiting that town. It was a weekend trip I took with Simone a couple of years ago.
“Well, if these come close, those garlic knots must be pretty damn good.” Betty grins and reaches for another one.
We chat for a bit, put our drink orders in, then enjoy some more garlic knots. The waitress returns quickly with our drinks and since we all know what we want, we order our meals.
“So how’s everyone’s week gone?” Betty eyes Henry and me with a smile.
“Well, I, for one, have had a busy, busy paperwork week. Pain in the ass,” Hank answers, even though it’s obvious that the question isn’t for him. “I swear I miss the days I was back in the kitchen every day.”
“And if you were back in the kitchen daily, you’d wish for the days you sat at the desk pushing papers.” Betty slides her eyes to her husband with a laugh.
Looking at her fondly, he leans his shoulder into hers. “You’d probably be right about that, better half.”
“Well, how were your weeks?” Betty turns her eyes back to us with her question.
“Not bad, getting into a good flow with work.” I offer what I can, not getting into too many details.
“It’s been pretty great. I think I’ll be able to turn my newest employee loose next week on her own,” Henry adds, pride filling his voice.
“That’s great, Henry. I’m so glad you’re finally taking the plunge and growing your business. I knew you could do it.” Hank grins, looking like a proud dad.
Shifting my eyes to Henry, I find him almost overcome at the compliment. His grin is wide, but his eyes are a bit glassy. It’s almost like he’s not used to the praise. Which I find hard to believe. He’s so accomplished, not just for his age, but in general.
“Yup, I’m hoping that in the next few years I’ll have a team of three, including myself. Maybe have someone take over bookkeeping and all that.” Henry takes a sip of his water, then replaces the glass next to mine.
“Accounting and stuff like that? Isn’t that what you do, Gia? Maybe you could give Henry some tips or something to make it easier for him to manage.” Betty swirls her red wine in her wineglass, a contemplative look on her face.
“I could look at your books.” Henry’s face is a blank page, and I’m not sure if he’s on board with the idea or not. “If you want…no worries if not.”
“No, that would be great. Thank you.” He offers me a small smile, and my eyes catch on his dimple.
Henry smiles often enough that I’m growing attached to it.
“So, Gia, are you seeing anyone right now?” The abrupt change in the direction of our conversation hits me like whiplash, although it seems that’s kind of Betty’s style.
I can appreciate her blunt approach, even while wishing I wasn’t the one at the center of the conversation.
“I’m not. Actually, I’m taking a break from relationships at the moment.” Thankfully, our waitress chooses now to bring us our food, and everyone focuses on that.
At least for a bit.
“So how’s the food compared to your family’s?” Hank asks before taking another bite of his lasagna.
Smiling, I think about the feast we’re going to have for Nonna’s birthday in a couple of weeks. “Not bad, actually really good. Not as good, of course. But it’ll do until I head home in a couple of weeks for a few days for my Nonna’s birthday.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. I’m glad the restaurant is almost up to par.” Hank jokes, shooting me a wink.
I’m about halfway done with my lemon pasta dish, which isn’t something my family makes often, but this restaurant does exceptionally well, before Betty continues her line of questioning.
“What’s your type? When you are dating.”
Her interest in my dating life would be confusing if I hadn’t noticed her shooting very pointed looks at Henry every so often. My guess is she’s invested in setting us up in some capacity, and even though I absolutely cannot date Henry right now, I can’t fault her for it.
Henry should be dating someone. It’s mind boggling to me that someone hasn’t locked him down yet, and I’m sure she thinks the same. I guess when I consider the fact that he’s a one-night stand kinda of person, it makes sense.
“I usually end up meeting people through my family. I have a lot of cousins, and they all have coworkers and acquaintances and friends.” I don’t look at Henry as I speak. I’m not sure why, but talking about this in front of him feels weird. “For some reason, my last couple of boyfriends have ended up working in finance, kind of like me. I guess I don’t really have a type, necessarily, but the trend is that I meet people through my family.”
Hank nods along, focusing on his Bolognese more than anything, and Betty just hums.
Sitting here in this restaurant with these people has me thinking and feeling a lot of things. Just the look on Betty’s face has me completely rethinking what I’ve been doing all this time.
“Honestly, it hasn’t really been working out, so maybe I’ve been dating the wrong guys.” The words are out of my mouth before I know I’m saying them. It’s almost exactly what Simone said to me back in Boston.
For the first time, I almost believe it.
I can feel Henry’s eyes on me, and Betty’s brighten considerably. A wide grin stretches her face.
I don’t realize it until we’re well onto a different topic, but I’m smiling too. I’m lighter, less weighed down by the ideals I’ve convinced myself I have to stick to when it comes to dating and who I should be with. Who’s to say that I can’t date someone I didn’t meet through my family? Or someone younger than me? Or someone who lives across the country?
Or anyone I like.
The idea that maybe I can date whoever I want, whether they’re younger than me or work outside of finance, is freeing, in a way. Slowly, the parameters that I created around what my life needs to look like fall away. I feel light and happy.
When three servers come by at the end of our meal carrying a tiramisu with a candle lit in the middle, the joy inside me expands almost unbelievably. They’re singing “Happy Birthday,” and when they place the dessert in front of me so I can blow the candle out, I look at Henry.
He’s watching me with a thoughtful, serene smile on his face. His eyes are lit up, happiness creating those endearing crinkles around them. “I might have snuck off to tell them it was your birthday.” He leans in to whisper in my ear.
“My birthday was months ago,” I remind him, unable to tear my eyes from his.
He just shrugs. “Yeah, but we didn’t get a chance to celebrate.”
It’s such a simple thing, but the gesture has me close to tears. Sure, I celebrated with my family on my actual birthday, but something about this right here has me almost floating in bliss. The feeling burrows its way into my heart, so deep I know it’s not going anywhere.