Chapter Twenty-Two
Gavin
The Tapas restaurantbuzzed with life. Laughter surrounded us, clicking silverware and glasses, and a low hum of conversations blending into a vibrant symphony. I sit across from my friend and old college friend, Matt, who is in town for a few days. Attempting to lose myself in the atmosphere and the comfort of one of my oldest friends with our table scattered with plates, remnants of a meal that was more of a distraction than nourishment.
“Man, you need to snap out of this funk,” Matt said, leaning in to be heard over the cackling laughter off to the side of our table. His voice carried a tone of genuine concern, his eyes searching mine for some sign of light.
I push around a piece of pasta with my fork, sighing. “I know, it’s just, well, it’s still fresh.”
“Bro. It’s been a few weeks, right? Time to jump back on the horse. I get it. I do, really. But wallowing won’t help. You’ve got to put yourself out there again, even if it’s just for some fun. You deserve to be happy, Gav.”
I force a smile, appreciating his effort even if the words don’t quite sink in. I glance around the room. The colorful decor and lively patrons are a stark contrast to my muted mood. My eyes land on a nearby table where a group of women sit, their animated conversation and uninhibited laughter drawing my attention.
One woman, in particular, catches my eye.
She had dark, curly hair that framed her face and a smile that seemed to light up the room. As if sensing my gaze, she looked over and our eyes met for a brief moment. But I looked away quickly, feeling a strange mix of guilt and intrigue.
I’m not ready to be interested in another person. I’m still interested in the same one that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since meeting at an airport bar.
“So,” Matt said, leaning back with a knowing grin, “see anything that interests you?”
I shake my head, though I couldn’t help but glance back at the woman and her table. She was engrossed in a conversation with her friends, but every so often, she’d push a non-existent hair behind her ear and glance in my direction.
“She’s cute,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, “but it’s too soon.”
Matt shrugs. “Just saying hello won’t hurt. You never know where it might lead.”
I shake my head and go back to eating.
As the night wore off, I stole more glances at the woman. Each glance met with a hint of encouragement from her with a smile or a lingering look. We finished our meal, and while we continued to talk, my thoughts were increasingly occupied by the other woman. The woman who is not Emily.
Eventually, the group of women gathered their things, signaling the end of their night. I felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that I missed my chance. But then the woman stood up, said something to her friends, and walked over to our table.
My throat was dry. Suddenly, my heart began beating fast. And my palms were clammy.
“Hi,” she said, her voice warm and confident. “I’m Lily. I couldn’t help but notice you looking over twice. Thought that I would save you the trouble and introduce myself.”
Say something. Don’t sound like a douchebag. Say something.
“Hi.” I say, knowing that my face is red with embarrassment, “Um, hi. I’m Gavin. It’s nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Matt. I’m not from around here, but my guy here, Gavin, is single, and he lives here.”
She looks at him, then back over to me as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small piece of paper. “Here,” she said, scribbling something down. “This is my cell. If you wanna hang out, grab a bite to drink or a coffee to eat. Then give me a call.”
I smile at the fumble for her words.
“I mean, coffee or a bite to eat.” She handed me the paper, her fingers brushing against mine for a brief moment. I take her number, feeling a rush of hope.
“Thanks, Lily,” I said, my voice steadier than I had expected. “I may do just that.”
She flashed a smile before rejoining her friends, leaving the paper in my hand. Matt laughs.
“See, I told you. Just a little push is all that you needed.”
I laughed, a genuine sound that felt foreign but good. “Yeah, you may be right. But I’m not going to call her.”
“What? She was attractive. Seemed like a nice girl.”
“Yeah, she was. But I’m not ready. And I wouldn’t want to lead on someone that I had no intention of pursuing.”
“Who said you had to pursue her? You could just have a little fun with her.”
“I’m not that kind of guy.”
“You used to be.”
“That was ten years ago. I’m more of an adult now, man.”
As we settled the bill and prepared to leave, I slipped Lily’s number into my pocket, a small but significant reminder that life, in all its unpredictability, still had plenty of surprises left.
I ridethe elevator up to my floor and get out, along with two of my teammates. We’re walking through the floor, talking about the latest episode of a firefighter series nearing the end of the season. While I’ve seen the show from time to time, I just smile and continue walking. Once I reach my office, I put my coffee down and greet Melinda.
I instruct her what I want to do for the day, ask her to set up some meetings, and then return to my office to start up my computer.
I turn on the radio in the room and settle in behind my desk.
As my programs start, email notifications keep dinging.
After a few minutes of browsing the news headlines of the day, I finally click over to my email. It’s run-of-the-mill emails, from different departments asking for clarifications, for approvals, and some asking for time off.
But there is one glaring email that catches my attention and makes my heart thunder in my chest.
It’s a request for an urgent meeting with human resources.
Shit.