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When he walked me to my car, that had been the perfect opportunity to, oh I don’t know, ask me out. Instead, he was Mr. Polite and slipped everything on my backseat, placing the beer on the floor, while I jumped in behind the steering wheel.
“That should do it,” he said, sounding as if he was ready to take off.
“Thanks,” I told him, turning in my seat to see him one more time before I drove away. He had such a handsome face: long, straight nose, strong and scruffy chin, and deep-blue eyes that could melt steel. As he leaned inside my car, all those strong features took on a soft glow from the overhead light. For a moment, I flashed on what it might feel like to kiss him or have his arms locked in around me, or even better, to lie under him in bed, naked… both of us naked. The thought instantly got all tangled up with Mike, and I wondered if Gianni was a player like Mike, only in a different way. With his good looks and a smile that sometimes took my breath away, I wondered how many women he was seeing, and did they all know about each other? A man like him had to be dating no less than two or maybe even three women at once.
“What was the name of that dating site again?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “For my brother, of course.”
A blast of frigid air whipped through the car for a moment, as snowflakes fell. The roads were already slushy from the snow flurries we’d had earlier in the day, but I knew tonight, we were headed for a much bigger storm. I was glad I’d picked up my sandwiches next door first. They were in a thermal bag on the front seat.
I wanted to get home before the roads got any worse, or I might get stranded, something I’d already experienced that first winter I spent here, and it forced me to never, ever take this weather shit for granted.
Still, I couldn’t help but want to linger in conversation.
“Perfect Matchup4U, but I haven’t actually used it. I’m only going by what my friend told me about it,” I said. “Are you going to try it as well?”
A sneaky way for me to find out what his dating situation was like.
“Um…” he hesitated, as if something held him back from answering. “Me? No. Absolutely not. Hadn’t ever considered a dating app. Not my thing, but I’m sure this one is great, and Frankie will like it. Hope you find a date for the holidays. I don’t like being alone for the holidays, either.”
Before I could get more out of him, he slammed my door shut, tapped on the roof a couple of times, turned, and hurried back into his restaurant.
“And are you alone for the holidays, Gianni Capra? I’ll never know because I couldn’t get the words out fast enough… oh yeah. It’s a pizza, beer, and cheesesteak night, that’s for damn sure,” I said aloud in my empty, cold car.
“HOW DO I look?” I asked Sarah for the hundredth time as I walked out into the living room to give her my latest outfit change. This was the fifth time I’d changed my dress, my shoes, and even my earrings. This time, I forced myself to wear the outfit I’d bought for that turning point dinner with Mike. It had gotten a little tight from all the crap I’d been consuming, but it somehow still fit, so I decided to go for it. I’d spent a fortune on the dress and matching red heels. No sense in letting it go to waste in the closet. Perhaps this time, the night would have a better ending.
Or not.
Either way, I wanted to rock my date’s world, and this dress had been designed to do just that.
“You look great,” she said, barely gazing over at me.
It was Christmas Eve. I’d finally stopped crying and was busy getting on with my life or at least attempting to. The pizza had worked, and after pigging out on everything I could find in the house and drinking way too much beer, I’d somehow managed to pull my shit together enough for this date.
I was meeting Jonathan Torrez for drinks and a possible dinner. Yes, we’d met on the dating app and yes, I’d only seen one picture of him, but he seemed like a nice enough guy when we briefly exchanged text messages. Totally not my type, which was good. Sarah had done her job well. No chance I would fall for this guy. For one thing, he was too much of a jock, and I never liked all the ego that went with that type of man.
Communications with him had been a little flaky and erratic to say the least. It seemed the dating app was experiencing some type of glitch. I’d wanted to forget about the whole thing, but Sarah wouldn’t allow it. I even considered calling Jenna about all the trouble I was having, but I then thought better of it. She was probably too busy with her own life to care about my silly problems. In the end, Jonathan and I agreed to meet, and that was enough for me.
“Do you think it’s too much red?” I asked, looking down at myself and feeling like I should wear my black dress instead.
The dress was a bright-red, off-the-shoulder, form-fitting creation. My heels matched the color of the dress perfectly. I even wore red dangling earrings. My hair was partially up, with a thin, red band around it. My makeup was heavy, and my underwear was made of iron.
Okay, I lied about the underwear. I hated strapless bras, so I wasn’t wearing anything on top. On the bottom, the only thing I could sneak under this crazy tight dress was a sheer red lace thong that I’d never worn before. And frankly, I’d never been a fan of a thong and didn’t like how it felt, but such was the case for fashion.
Essentially, I was naked under this dress, which, if I at all liked my date, would be a hot, good thing.
If I didn’t like my date, which everything pointed to the fact that I most likely wouldn’t, at least not for the long haul, I would feel vulnerable. To compensate for that, I wore my hooded, calf-length black wool coat, that I could cinch at the waist with the belt.
And I’d also worn a sheer white sweater, just in case I wasn’t in the mood to show too much skin.
My night was completely dependent on my first impression of Jonathan.
“This whole thing is stupid. I should cancel,” I told her. “I’m having drinks with a guy I know I won’t like just because I don’t want to be alone on Christmas. Can my life get any sadder? I should cancel right now.”
I grabbed my phone off the ottoman where I’d left it.
“Step away from the phone. It’s way too late now, sweets. He’s probably already waiting at the restaurant, or damn close,” she said as she grabbed her own warm coat off the hook near the front door.
It was a cold night, probably in the thirties, and neither one of us had ever truly acclimated ourselves to the weather. Sarah was from Tampa, but her maternal grandmother lived here, in Liverpool, PA, so she’d chosen Hutton Hill U to spend some quality time with her. My reasons for attending were nothing like that. I simply hated a big, campus, and wanted something more intimate. And aside from my encounter with Mike, who had texted me several times and even called yesterday, and a few other men who shall go nameless, it had been the perfect choice for me.
