Page 17 of Heat Advisory

“What if I’ve built him up too much in my head over the years?” I asked her but didn’t give her time to respond before continuing my thought. “I’ve been crushing on this man for years, Hazel. What if the reality doesn’t match the version I’ve been carrying around since high school?”

“You’ve got this,” she replied, ever the positive one. “Look, if I can handle an octopus with attitude and anger-management issues, you can handle one breakfast date with your dream man.”

I chuckled at her amazing ability to not only calm me but also make me laugh when I was having my panic episodes.

“I believe in you, sis,” she told me just before a loud noise crashed in the background. “Goddammit, Nigel. I’ve got to go murder an octopus. Call me after your date, and you can tell me all the details.”

“I will. Love you,” I told her as a shrill beeping noise carried through the phone.

“Shit. Love you too. Bye.” Her last word was cut off as the call ended, and I felt slightly bad about not asking for more details about this new devious octopus.

I made a mental note to ask her about it when I called her on Monday after my date.

A date that I now was feeling very excited—and hardly nervous at all—about.

Mostly.

Monday came fast, and as I sat in a booth at the restaurant, my nerves kicked up every minute that went by.

It was ten minutes past eight, and Jay still wasn’t here. I knew it was only ten minutes, but something felt off. I mean, shouldn’t he have texted if he was going to be late? I would have.

It wasn’t easy to park around here, so maybe he was just circling around trying to find a spot. At least, that was what I told myself.

“Can I get you something to drink while you wait?” the friendly waitress asked me.

I’d gotten here a few minutes ago and decided to get a table in case the place got busy, because this was a popular restaurant.

“Um, sure. I’ll take a coffee, please,” I told her.

I pulled out my phone, double checking that this was the only Friends With Benedicts restaurant location and I hadn’t gone to the wrong one by mistake. I knew it wasn’t likely, since the bridal shop was across the street, but I just needed to check for my own sanity.

After pulling it up on my phone to confirm that this was, in fact, the only location, I started to get worried. What if he was in an accident? What if he’d worked last night and gotten stuck at a fire?

I had no idea what his hours were or how his schedule worked. I knew I could text Morgan, but I wasn’t ready for her to know we were on a date. Morgan had tried to see if I was interested in her brother for years so we could one day be real sisters, but once her brother left the state to play baseball—and took my heart with him—I tried to play it cool and pretend I had no interest. I did that for myself just as much as I had for Morgan.

I knew if I texted her and told her we were going on a date, even if it was just breakfast, she would get excited, and it would get my hopes up. Hopes that I didn’t want to come crashing down if he left like the last time. No, it was better to just wait it out before I said anything to her. I was going to have to tread lightly with this one. But even as I thought about it, I realized that would be a difficult prospect since I was already half in love with this man and had been since high school.

The waitress brought my coffee and set it down with some sugar and creamer. “Are you ready to order yet, or do you want to wait for your other person to arrive?” she asked, pointing at the menu across from me.

I didn’t know how to answer because he should be here by now, but I didn’t want to chance it in case he’d gotten stuck in traffic or something and I came off as rude if I ordered without him. “I’ll just wait a few more minutes. Thank you.”

She nodded and walked away, and I checked my phone again—for the thirtieth time in the last ten minutes.

I finally decided to text him, just to check.

Me:

Just checking in…

Another ten minutes went by, and there was still no response. I didn’t know whether to be worried or pissed, but worrying that this could be from something going wrong, I decided to go with checking on his wellbeing.

Me:

Are you okay?

Now it was eight thirty, and I realized I couldn’t keep holding up a table, so I finally placed my order.

I did it so that I could make it worth my waitress’s time so she wasn’t just getting a dollar tip from me for one single coffee. I also did it because I was now reeling with emotions at the likelihood of being stood up, and I needed food to give me energy.