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1
Nikole
Another gust of wind ripped through my hair, sending chills throughout my body, and the peach fuzz on my arms stiffened. I gripped the collar of my wool coat with one ungloved hand while the other dug for the phone in my coat pocket to check the time. It was 7:10 p.m. Only a minute had passed since I had checked the screen last.
As I waited on the sidewalk, I tried bouncing on the balls of my feet, but the leather of my new boots hardly gave way and the movement hurt more than it helped.
Where was he?
I wasn’t even sure what he looked like. My friend Sarah described her brother as tall, with short, dark hair, and a wide mouth. She said he was the serious type, so not to be offended if he didn’t smile much. It wasn’t much to go on for a blind date, but she had also said to meet him in front of the Darlin’ Donut shop on the corner of Third and Centre streets. I opened my text with Sarah, double-checking the proposed time, but it clearly read 7:00 p.m.
I hated it when people were late. It was perhaps my biggest pet peeve. That and loud chewing. Both could turn my best mood into a foul one.
7:11 p.m.
I crammed my phone back inside my pocket and shook my shoulders, hoping to build some heat. It was only the end of October, but the weather had quickly changed this week in New York. It wasn’t much warmer in Washington D.C. where I lived only a few weeks ago. I attended law school and articled there until a job opportunity at one of my top firms became available in New York. I had hesitated to take the position because it was the one place I didn’t want to go. The one place I knew I would be miserable. The one city that would make me feel small again because it was where my mother lived. She raised me in Washington, but two years ago, her new job brought her to New York. And then my dream job brought me to her.
Fate had a terrible sense of humor.
Several people were walking in and out of the donut shop, but I had tuned the door chime out by this point. Despite Wellington being a small suburb of New York, there were plenty of shoppers flocking to the big-name retail outlets surrounding the shop.
The crunch of salt and dirt caught my attention. To my right, a shiny black SUV pulled into the parking lot. It was dark so I couldn’t see the driver, but the vehicle drove towards me. I could make out a shape, a head with short, cropped hair, nearly reaching the top of the cab.
My pulse ticked at my neck. Was I nervous? Excited? Maybe a little of both. I’d never been on a blind date before. What should we talk about? I hadn’t even thought about what I would say until that very moment. Sarah told me very little about him. I could start with ‘What do you do?’ but I always hated that question. I found people judged me quickly when I told them I was a lawyer. They had preconceived notions about my morals and rarely hesitated to say so.
I could ask about Sarah. Yes, that one was safe. But as I formed a question in my head, my eyes locked on the driver. There was no light inside the cab, only a shimmer through the back window, but from what I could see, he was handsome. A strong jawline and yes, a wide mouth. There was no smile, just a blank stare.
I closed my eyes for only a second, taking a reassuring breath to calm myself. When I opened them, I smiled towards the parking lot as I searched for his truck and where he might have parked.
I couldn’t find it. I blinked, foolishly thinking that would help. But when I scanned the lot again, I didn’t see the truck. Then, turning to my left, I spotted red brake lights on a black SUV as the vehicle left the lot and turned into traffic.
I blinked several times as I watched him drive away.
What just happened?
Was that my date? Or just some random guy I thought was my date?
I texted Sarah. What kind of car does your brother drive?
She responded right away.
A black Escalade. Why? Is he not there yet? He better be stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire or I’m going to kill him.
I didn’t notice the make of the black truck earlier, but it sure looked like that particular model to me. My hand squeezed the phone, and I closed my eyes for a second before stepping away from the donut shop.
As I walked back toward my white Lexus parked just a few feet away, moisture stung the back of my eyes, and I clenched my jaw at the threatening tears. I wasn’t sad. No, I was angry. I’d never been stood up before.
The inside of the car was cold, but at least I was away from the wind and it was quiet. But the silence was heavy. Like a ton of bricks on my chest. I sniffed once, wiped my nose with an old tissue from my coat pocket, and started my car. A message from Sarah popped onto my dashboard.
He isn’t answering his phone.
I didn’t respond to the message. A part of me wanted to believe that wasn’t him. That Sarah’s brother, my date, hadn’t stood me up, that he was just late. But deep in my gut, I knew it was him. Something in his features told me he had changed his mind at the last second. I wasn’t a supermodel, by any means. I was barely five foot five, average height, average weight, and maybe a little extra curves on my hips, but no one had complained before. Besides, he couldn’t have seen my body underneath my coat. Something else made him decide to keep driving.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter and my anger rose, but then another thought made the weight on my chest lighten. It was him. He was the problem. Yup, he must be an indecisive, inconsiderate, conceited person who selfishly only cared about himself. Well, I dodged a bullet with that one. I nodded once and left the parking lot.
Ten minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of the duplex home where I subleased an apartment. After turning off the car, I exhaled loudly and slowly inhaled a cleansing breath. Making him out to be the villain made me feel a little better.
Once inside my apartment, I yanked off my new black leather boots, hung up my coat on the rack, and walked toward the kitchen in my stocking feet. I had dressed up for this date and now regretted the effort.
