Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Saturday evening came too quickly for Maggie’s taste.
She had hoped the nearer her date night came, the more she would look forward to it, but that wasn’t the case.
As she finished slipping into a knee-length emerald green dress, all she wanted was to rip it back off and shimmy into some sweatpants.
It was her only night off this week and she longed to spend it curled up in her recliner away from the world.
The temptation to call the date off was strong, but she had promised herself she was going to give this a real chance and that meant not blowing it off.
She adjusted the straps on her shoulders, worrying that perhaps the bodice was too low cut.
Regardless of how well the date went, she wasn’t about to sleep with the guy yet.
That meant making sure she picked a modest dress that didn’t give off slutty vibes.
It was better to set the right expectations, so she changed.
Maggie was still digging through her limited wardrobe when a ping from her phone drew her attention. She would have ignored it under normal circumstances, but she happened to see Anatoly’s name, and she crossed from the closet to where her cell phone lay on the bed.
Anatoly: Is your night off, da?
Maggie: Yeah, what’s up?
Anatoly: I would like to invite you to proper tour of church. Father Joshua is making gumbo tonight. He is very excellent cook.
She stared down at her phone, biting her lower lip as she considered the proposal. It was Anatoly, so of course she wanted to say yes, but he would surely understand she had made other plans. She groaned and typed out her response.
Maggie: Thanks, I can’t tho. I have a date tonight.
Anatoly: Perhaps another time. Have fun, Detective.
Feeling as though she had disappointed him, Maggie tossed the phone back down onto the bed and returned to the closet. She heard her cell go off a few more times and ignored it so she could focus on getting ready.
In the end, she picked out a short-sleeved, black dress that hugged her breasts and hips, but the V-shaped neckline left a lot more to the imagination than the green one had. She slipped into a thin, but very soft, pale pink sweater and a pair of black Mary Janes.
Maggie rarely bothered with jewelry and only owned a few necklaces, but tonight, perhaps inspired by her text conversation with Anatoly, she picked out her grandmother’s silver crucifix and latched it around her neck.
Finally ready, she snatched her phone off the bed and hurried out of the bedroom.
A quick glance at the clock on the living room wall revealed that she was running ten minutes late and she swore.
She didn’t bother to check her messages.
If it was Anatoly again, he would simply have to wait for her to be free.
* * *
By the time Maggie arrived at the restaurant, it had started to rain. Thankfully, it was just a drizzle as she jogged inside, holding her purse over her head in an effort to save her hair. It was a futile effort and by the time she made it to the door it was already frizzled from the dampness.
She stood in the entryway of the restaurant, trying to smooth it out to no avail.
The hostess gave her a sympathetic look as Maggie approached and she figured her hair looked like trash, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.
At this point, she just wanted to get this date over with and then go back home.
“Reservation under Boone,” she announced to the young woman, who was probably working here through college if Maggie had to guess.
“Ah yes, a table for two,” the hostess confirmed, grabbing a couple of menus as she stepped out from behind the podium. “Right this way, ma’am.”
Maggie followed her, taking note of the intimate surroundings and ambiance. Maybe this place was too intimate, but her date had picked the restaurant. She just made the reservation since she was off work in the mornings and he wasn’t.
Once she was seated, Maggie’s drink order was taken, and then she was left alone for the time being.
Deciding it was time to check her phone, she slipped it out of her clutch to see who had messaged her earlier.
She was expecting it to be another note or two from Anatoly, but he had remained silent.
No, it had been a heads up from Desmond; her date was running late.
She glanced at the time on her phone and mentally swore.
He wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes at least. So much for getting this over and done with…
If only she’d checked her texts before leaving, she could have called the whole thing off.
“Great, just fucking great,” she muttered to herself and started to put the phone away, but another chime caught her attention. At the name that flashed across the display, her mood improved tenfold. She smiled and began to type out a response.
Anatoly: Date is take you somewhere nice, I hope.
Maggie: It’s called Serenade. I’ve never been here. Seems nice so far.
Anatoly: You are texting me while having date?
Maggie: He’s not here yet. He’s running late. I’m looking at the menu. I’m considering the shrimp with garlic butter sauce, what do you think? What goes with white wine?
Anatoly: I have little experience, but is garlic not turn off for kissing?
Maggie: There won’t be any kissing if he stands me up.
The messages abruptly stopped after that and Maggie began to wonder if she hadn’t perhaps offended him. She checked on Desmond, but there were no updates from him either, so she started scrolling through social media to take her mind off waiting.
Time slipped away from her and before she knew it twenty minutes had come and gone and there was still no sign of Desmond. Maggie was starting to get concerned and shot him a quick message asking for an update.
The waitress came over and topped off her water glass. “Would you like to order or continue waiting?” she asked, sympathy etched in her features. “I can bring you another white wine if you’d like.”
“Not right now, thanks. I’ll wait a little longer,” Maggie answered.
It would have been easy to get drunk given how her date was going, but she wanted to keep a clear head about her should he show up.
Sure, she’d been having quite a dry spell lately when it came to sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hop into the first man’s bed that came along.
She let out a sigh as the waitress scurried off and thought about texting Anatoly again, but before she could decide, motion at the front of the restaurant caught her eye. She hoped it was her date, but as she glanced up, she was met with an even more welcome sight.
Anatoly, drenched from the downpour of rain outside, was speaking to the scandalized hostess. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but by the way the girl was shaking her head, they didn’t want to admit him. And who could blame them? The man was dripping water all over the floor.
The priest must have felt her gaze, for his eyes suddenly found hers across the room. Maggie’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up as he started toward her, much to the dismay of the hostess. In seconds, he was standing over her, a gentle smile tugging his lips upward.
“You’re here…” she breathed, unsure what else to say to him.
“Da, I did not want you to be stood up,” he replied. “May I sit, Detective?”
Maggie nodded, wanting very much for him to join her even though she still couldn’t quite believe he was there. He had come for her and her poor heart didn’t know how to take that. She was elated, terrified, confused, and all she could manage to do was smile back at him as he sat down.
Then it occurred to her; she was on a date with a priest.