I wish him nothing but the best, I just don’t know that I’ll ever stop comparing everything, and everyone, to him. Or how long it’ll take me to truly see the new him. The one that is in a relationship full of love and adoration. It looks good on him. I only have to remember that Bentley isn’t him. This date is just that…a date. There will be no wondering about our future, or clinging onto him because he’s showing me attention. I can do this. I can have fun without becoming dependent. I have to do it this way for my sanity.
“You aren’t wearing that, are you?” Hazel walks into the room we’re sharing at the airport hotel.
“What’s wrong with it?” It’s a three-quarter sleeve floral dress that has a small bit of give to it. It doesn’t cling to my body or make me look unflattering.
She laughs and quickly covers her mouth as the door shuts behind her. “I’m sorry. That was bitchy.” She waves her hands up and down my body. “Nothing about that dress screams sex appeal.”
“That’s kind of the point,” I argue. “I’m not trying to land in his bed and be another notch on his bedpost.”
“It also defeats the purpose of having fun. I know damn well you aren’t frumpy and that’s what this monstrosity portrays.” She crosses the room to her suitcase and flings the top open. “If you don’t have any acceptable clothes, we’ll either have to go on a quick shopping trip, or you’ll have to wear something of mine.”
“There’s no way your clothes will fit me. I’m taller than you and my boobs are bigger. Anything you give me will make me look like I’m trying to dress like a teenager.”
“Looks like we’re going shopping then.” A sinister smile crosses her face and I don’t like whatever she has planned.
My eyes lock on the alarm clock sitting between our beds, and I shake my head. “There isn’t time.” Is my dress really that bad? I don’t think he’d have an issue with it. My thoughts flash back to the gossip sites I saw him on. In almost every single one of them the women he was with were in skin tight dresses and dressed to the nines. Surely, he isn’t expecting that from me. “Besides it’s only a lunch date. It’s not like we’re going out for a night on the town.”
“That you know of,” she winks at me.
“What do you mean?” My words are rushed and now I’m freaking out.
“I mean,” she grins, “if you end up having fun on your lunch date, who says it has to stop there? It could continue on throughout the rest of the day. You might want to be prepared for that.”
Not. Going. To. Happen. He’s a player and I would be an idiot to think our date will go further than that. I’m using this as an excuse to fulfill my curiosity. That’s all it is. Once I see that he’s exactly the way I have him pegged, despite calming little girls and helping old ladies with their luggage, I’ll be free to dislike him once and for all. Especially if my reasons are valid.
“Remember how you told me to take it one step at a time and do what feels right for me?” Her eyebrows furrow, not sure where I’m going with this conversation, and she nods. “This is me doing just that. I will not change myself to go on a date with him. He either likes me, or he doesn't. Forcing myself to fit into what I think he might like is going against what I’m comfortable with.”
“But…” She begins, but I hold my hand up to stop her.
“No ‘buts’. I’m not like you. I don’t do well in any situation. If I happen to enjoy his company, then we’ll see where it goes. But I’m not going to plan for anything more than meeting him to eat lunch.”
“I guess.” She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. “But you have to fill me in on everything when you get back to the room. I want every juicy detail.”
“I promise.” It’s not like I have anyone else to tell. I haven’t talked to my parents in ages, and I’m not close to my siblings either. As far as I’m concerned, Hazel is my best friend and family. “Have your phone handy in case I need a quick escape.”
She pulls it out of her pocket and waves it in the air. “Of course, just like the old times before you let one man zap the fun out of you.”
That was a low blow, and her eyes widen in shock once she realizes what she said.
“I have to go or I’ll be late.” I point at the phone in her hand, “And don’t forget to answer that if I text or call.”
“Got it. Now, go have fun. Live a little and let your hair down.”
I hate that saying. Like having it up somehow makes you uptight all of a sudden. Oh well, I don’t have time to think about the semantics of an old saying. I need to get this show on the road. The sooner I’m done with this date, the sooner I can come back to the room and binge watch Netflix.
The pizza parlor is packed, and I’m regretting my choice for lunch. I tried to pick somewhere close to downtown. It’s easy access for both of us and I can hightail it back to my hotel if I need to. I’m unsure of where exactly I’m supposed to meet him. It’s something I forgot to mention in our text messages.
* * *
Serena: I’m walking in. Are you here?
Bentley: Yes, I have a table in the back. There are a ton of people in here. Want me to walk up front to get you?
Serena: I’m capable of walking in there on my own.
Bentley: Too late.
* * *
