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I’d been strong so far when it came to Mike… hoping that this dating app would save me. So far, I wasn’t too sure anything could. I kept reading and re-reading Mike’s text messages and listening to his voicemail. He had such a smooth, deep voice. Like dark chocolate, all rich and creamy.
Oh yeah, totally pathetic.
It was a good thing we were between semesters, or it would be impossible to stay away from him if school were in session.
“How do I look?” she casually asked, knowing it didn’t matter what I thought. This was a comfy family event, and her outfit was perfect.
Sarah wore stretch black jeans, a cropped thick red sweater, and bright red booties. Her hair was streaked with both red and green tonight for the occasion. She looked like a sexy Christmas elf. She would be spending the night with Gary at his parents’ house with his family and wouldn’t be returning to our apartment until the day after Christmas. His parents had assigned them separate bedrooms. Of course, but Gary and Sarah knew that was only a wish and not an actual mandate.
“You look adorable, as always. But then Gary would love you if you showed up in a brown paper bag,” I told her, cinching my coat up tight.
Gary was picking her up, and I would drive my own car to The Ripe Tomato, an upscale Italian restaurant in Lewisburg that had opened about six months ago and was already everyone’s favorite. All the food was non-traditional, with the perfect upscale flair. The two chefs had been in the top five ofMaster Chefseveral seasons ago and decided to join forces to open their own type of restaurant. Even Gordon Ramsey himself had attended the grand opening, much to the delight of everyone in Lewisburg. It put the town’s name on the map, and because of that one little visit, the shops and hotels had had a booming summer.
When we walked outside, Gary, a blond-haired, twenty-six-year-old business graduate, with a contagious smile, and a body that made most women do a double take, was already waiting for Sarah. He not only had the good looks, but was a hard worker as well. He’d opened his own gym right after graduation, and had made it the best gym in the area.
Being the gentleman that he was, after he and Sarah jumped in his car, he waited for me to start up my little Jetta and followed me out of the small parking lot in front of our four-flat apartment building.
The restaurant was less than a mile away, and by the time I arrived, I could tell it was already filling up.
Jonathan had texted me that he was on his way, so after I parked in the lot behind the restaurant, I decided to wander inside and wait for him at the bar.
Not only did the exterior of the restaurant scream Christmas with twinkling lights strung around the doorway and every window, but Frank Sinatra crooned White Christmas both inside the restaurant and out front.
All these small towns within a fifty-mile radius loved to decorate for the holiday season, and I loved them for it. Still, it only reminded me of how much I wanted to be in a relationship and how much I missed my family and friends back home. Especially tonight, on Christmas Eve. Instead, I was headed inside a restaurant I’d never been to before, to meet a man who wasn’t the least bit right for me.
It gave me a chuckle… the irony of it.
He even liked sports and was part of a local hockey team. Not that I had anything against sports but sitting through a football or baseball or even watching a hockey game was a snooze fest in the truest sense of the words. I just never got into it.
Despite all of that, after I hung up my coat on the provided rack near the door, I kept my sweater on and made my way to the bar. I was looking forward to meeting Jonathan Torrez, my arranged mismatched date, hoping for an interesting couple of hours… if we even lasted that long.
“Hi Dani,” someone said, as I headed for a couple of empty seats at the end of the bar. I instantly turned towards the sound of my name, thinking I would see Jonathan. Instead, I saw Gianni Capra… at least I thought it was Gianni Capra. He looked so different. For one thing, he wore thick, black glasses, there was more scruff on his chin, and he wore real clothes, pressed, long-sleeved, powder-blue shirt and black slacks.
Woah! Who are you and what did you do with Pizza Guy?
“It’s me, Gianni. The chef from Boston Pizza,” he said in that sexy deep voice of his, that rumbled through my body, igniting all my senses.
I forced myself to speak.
“Hi. Yes. Of course. The glasses threw me. Plus, seeing someone out of their element… not that a pizza parlor is your element…” I stuttered. “I mean, it is your element… oh fuck. Sorry.”
He grinned and slid off his stool. “No worries. I get it. My contacts were giving me grief, so I’m using my glasses tonight. If you were heading for the seats at the end of the bar, they’ve been taken. Here.” He held out his hand. “Please take mine.”
“Thanks. I’m waiting for someone, and I wouldn’t feel right taking your seat. But thanks,” I told him. “Who knew this place would be so crowded on Christmas Eve? Shouldn’t everyone be home with their families?”
“Well, you could ask that same question to us, but here we are,” he said, still grinning, looking even more amazing behind those horn-rimmed glasses than I ever thought possible.
Did he know how hot he was?
“You look incredible, by the way,” he said, quickly running his steel-blue eyes over me and sending a rush of heat right to where it mattered.
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. And why are you here?” I asked, grinning so deep my cheeks hurt. “I would think your family wanted you home with them.”
“That’s not until later. Right now, I’m meeting someone for a drink, but while we’re both waiting, can I buy you one?”
I hesitated for only a moment. While I was waiting for my prince not-so-charming, I couldn’t let the opportunity to get to know this adorable hottie go to waste.
“I would love a Pinot Grigio, thanks,” I said, as I slid my butt on his offered barstool and answered my date’s latest text about him being twenty minutes late with an emoji. I slipped my phone into my small bag, not wanting to be interrupted for the next twenty minutes while I got to know Gianni Capra, the guy I’d crushed on since my very first breakup pizza.
