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Definitely no Fortnight in the cards for me.
Maybe Dave will take me there Saturday night.
I choose a pair of plain black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that’s clingy and shows off my breasts.
For shoes, I opt for black suede booties—my best pair. They saw a lot of Europe—well, not a lot. But they saw London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and one day of Paris.
The tour is going very well. Jesse and Rory keep me updated, and I’m so happy for them.
And I so wish I were still there.
I wish Dave were there too… And I wish I weren’t going on this date.
But I am. Dave and I have been together for such a short time, there’s nothing wrong with me seeing another guy.
Part of me feels like I’m cheating on him, though.
But I’ll get over it.
I’m checking my makeup and hair when someone knocks on the door.
I look through the peephole, and there stands Grayson. He looks good. He’s slicked his hair back with some glossy product, and he’s wearing a red bowtie over a patterned button-down, all under a sleek gray cardigan.
The exact opposite of anything Dave Simpson would ever wear, but the look works for Grayson. Kind of nerdy sexy.
I open the door. “Right on time.”
“I’m nothing if not punctual.” He looks me over. “You look great. Are you ready?”
I grab my purse. “Ready.”
I don’t have a car, but he must, or he wouldn’t have suggested we go to the city.
We walk toward a Honda Civic, and then I realize someone else is in the driver’s seat.
“I hope you don’t mind Uber,” he says. “I never drink and drive.”
He’s smart, and he thought ahead. That’s good.
He also wants to drink. Which means he may get flirtier later.
Guess I’ll play this by ear.
“I don’t mind at all.” I slide into the back seat, and he slides next to me. “Hi,” I say to the driver.
He nods to me.
“I’m not a big drinker,” Grayson says, “but to be honest, I don’t have any wheels at the moment.”
“Neither do I,” I say. Seems I have a lot more in common with Grayson than I do with Dave.
The thought makes me kind of sad.
“You like Italian?” Grayson asks.
“Love it.”
Although it makes me think of my last meal with Dave—takeout from Lorenzo’s.
