He nodded and smiled. “I’ll take your word for it, Jordan.”
Tyler noticed the waiter coming towards them carrying their food on a tray and cringed internally. This date was already halfway through and Trisha was nowhere to be found. This was her favorite restaurant and she came here every Thursday, so why wasn’t she here already? He didn’t have a back-up plan if this didn’t go the way he’d planned. He wouldn’t be able to ask Jordan out again. She was already suspicious. If Trisha didn’t show up soon, this would have all been for nothing and—
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he saw the waiter trip over his own feet. The next few seconds played out in slow motion. The tray lifted off his hand. Cutlery scattered all over, clanging as it hit the floor. The plates flew up in the air. The waiter desperately tried to catch what he could, but the plate holding Jordan’s butternut and spinach ravioli turned mid-air and the pasta landed with a heavy splat on her head, glass shattering over the cobble-stone. She gasped as the creamy sauce slowly oozed over her hair and down her face.
“Oh, my God, Ma’am! I’m so sorry…so so sorry!” The waiter was frantic. He grabbed a few napkins from the table, trying to scoop up large chunks at a time, but all that did was smear the sauce over more of her face and hair. Tyler could do nothing but watch on in horror.
“It’s only my second week on the job,” he explained as he moved the napkins over her head and tossed the pasta onto the tray. “These floors are really slippery and I haven’t broken in these shoes.”
“It’s okay,” Jordan said in a breathless whisper, trying hard to contain her shock.
Tyler could not read the look on her face and thus could not decide if she was angry or embarrassed. Maybe she was a bit of both. He took pity on the poor waiter. He was just trying to do his job and accidents happen. The manager of the restaurant was storming towards the table, his cheeks burning crimson with fury.
Oh, no. He’s going to get it now. As soon as his boss gets here, Jordan is going to flip and this poor guy is going to lose his job.
His mind began to race with a multitude of possibilities of how he could diffuse the situation.
“What’s going on here?” the manager shouted.
The waiter’s mouth moved but there was no sound, like he was on mute, but then words slowly began to form. “I…I was walking and then…and…then…”
“It was my fault,” Jordan cut in. “I was getting up to go the bathroom and crashed right into him. I didn’t see him. Sorry about the mess.”
It was obvious the manager didn’t believe her because he fixed livid eyes on the waiter. “You should be more careful next time!” He turned back to Jordan. “Apologies, Miss. Your meal tonight will be complimentary.”
“The one on my head?” Jordan asked with a slight chuckle in her voice.
“Get another ravioli for the lady,” he ordered.
The waiter seemed to mouth a thank you to Jordan before he dashed off. The manager soon followed. Tyler noticed that everyone in the restaurant had turned to stare at her, but Jordan was completely unperturbed by the whispers and faint giggles. Her reaction was so unnatural. She’d even lied so he wouldn’t get into trouble. Tyler assumed she would freak out, throw a tantrum, make a scene. That definitely would have been Trisha’s reaction to a situation like this, but Jordan just sat there, readingthe wine menu as if she didn’t have butternut smeared across her cheek.
No, the woman in front of him wasn’t at all like Trisha. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. He’d heard the term easy-going before but Jordan gave that term an entirely new meaning.
“Ooh, we should get the Barolo,” she said, lifting her head from the menu.
“Jordan, if you want to go home, we can—”
“Don’t be silly, Tyler. There’s no reason to have our evening ruined over spilled pasta.”
“Don’t you feel weird…with everyone…staring…and—”
“I have four brothers. Trust me, after a teenage girl grows up with four boys, she stops caring about what other people think…but…if you feel embarrassed…”
“No,” Tyler said quickly and oddly enough, he meant it. He had never met anyone who simply didn’t care what other people thought. It was liberating just being in her company. He watched her from across the table as the pasta sauce dried in her hair and somehow she was more appealing now than she was in her little navy cocktail dress.
“We’ll have the Barolo,” he conceded with a nod.
“I’m feeling a little sticky, so I’m gonna try to clean myself up a bit.” She put the menu down but before she got up, she looked over at him and smiled. “You still technically owe me dinner though, because this one’s on me.”
The thought lightened his mood further. He now had a plan-B if Trisha didn’t see them together. He smiled back. “Yes, literally…on you.”
Her eyebrows furrowed together in the cutest way. “Did you just make a joke, Tyler Evans?”
“I believe I did. As we have already established, I’m…off the chain tonight.”
The hilarity of the entire situation culminated into that moment. She laughed and then he did too, so she laughed louder and before he knew it, they were snickering like two drunken teenagers.
The Awkward Aftermath
