Fourteen Months Ago
The trendy Manhattan bar packed patrons in like sardines. The brick walls and low lights enhanced the speakeasy feel as indie rock music blared through the speakers.
“Babe, that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night,” Lisha yelled over the music, tilting her head to the man in a business suit a few paces down. We were here with a bunch of people for our friend Nelly’s birthday. It was supposed to be an exclusive “in the know”–type place, but as it turned out, everyone seemed to be in the know.
“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” I shouted into her face over the sound of the drum solo.
“At least let him buy you a drink.” She smirked, her dark brown eyes dancing with amusement.
“He hasn’t offered.” I shrugged, covertly stealing another glance at the man.
She turned to look at him, immediately spinning aroundto face me. “Incoming, darling.”
“Ladies,” the newcomer said, his voice as smooth as the whiskey in my glass. “What are you drinking? I’d love to get you a fresh glass.”
“She’s drinking whiskey, and I’m… oh, looks like I’m being called away. Got to run.” Lisha danced her pointed-tip nails at us, faking an exit to meet up with some of the others.
“Whiskey it is.” He signaled another round for the two of us. “Blake McEnroe.”
I shook his offered hand, not hiding my perusal of him from head to toe. He was cute. Not traditionally handsome, but there was an aura to him that drew me in with his boyish grin and tousled blond hair. Plus, he had a great smile, and I was a sucker for a dimple.
“Lydia Wilder,” I introduced myself.
“Lydia.” He rolled my name across his tongue like he was savoring the sound of it. The bartender dropped our drinks off in front of us, and he picked them up, handing the whiskey to me while he sipped a clear cocktail. “I don’t mean to sound too forward, but I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night. You’re absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you. And thanks for the drink.” It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. I knew this game by heart. I’d tell him I wasn’t interested, and he’d tell me he was just fucking around anyway. He wasn’t serious.
They never were.
“I’d better find my friends. But thanks again for the drink,” I said, lifting my glass to him in gratitude.
Blake reached out and grasped my wrist. “No, stay. Please. You haven’t given me a chance to chat you up yet.” He smiled a boyish grin that made my belly flutter. “Five minutes of your time.What’s the worst that can happen?”
I rolled my eyes, a smile playing across my lips, and retook my seat. His eyes lit up, setting off a strange feeling in my gut.
“I guess I can spare five minutes.” I swirled my tongue around the straw of my drink, keeping my eyes on him. He tracked my movements with interest, his gaze dipping to my mouth before slowly rising to my eyes again with a pleased expression.
After dealing with the dumpster fire that was the New York City dating scene, I liked the way he looked at me.
“Good. I’ve got my A-game locked and loaded to suitably impress you.”
I laughed. He was charming and smooth; I had to give him that. “Better get started. Time’s a-ticking,” I joked.
“Well, I could tell you that I work in finance, over in Midtown, as a strategic advisor to the CFO, but I wouldn’t want to bore you. Tell me about yourself, Lydia. That’s going to be far more interesting.”
“I’m a junior curator for a collection of art galleries in SoHo. I’ve got four galleries that I work with, collaborating with artists and coordinating showings.”
Blake leaned in to hear me better over the loud music. He kept his attention focused solely on me as I continued on about my work and what I hoped it would turn into in the future—the senior curator, managing my own portfolio and working with clients of my choosing. It wasn’t showcasing my own art, but that was the dream of a younger, more naive Lydia. But senior curator, that was attainable, realistic.
“You really love what you do, don’t you?” Blake asked with a smile. His fingers caressed the top of my hand, his eyes on me.
When the lights flicked for last call, I realized we had been talking for hours. The time had slipped away unnoticed, my attention wrapped up in Blake.
“Damn, I can’t believe it’s already closing time. I think that was more than five minutes.” I chuckled, surprised by how fast the time had gone by.
“It didn’t feel like it. I could sit here with you for hours longer. You’re so interesting, Lydia.” His hand was on my knee, and he gave it a light squeeze. “I don’t want our night to end. Can I take you out sometime?”
Butterflies fluttered in my belly when he looked at me with open affection. I hadn’t clicked with someone like this in a long time. And I had a good feeling about him. “Yeah. I would be up for that,” I agreed easily. He was so easy to talk to. I gave him my number and had a text from him before the Uber dropped me off at my walk-up apartment building.
