One
Alec
My date wasseven minutes late, and I was already on my second drink, wondering how the hell someone had managed to talk me into this.
At least I was in my favorite Italian restaurant. Small and intimate, with classical music and personalized service. Not the kind of place where a person was required to wear a jacket, but one where you’d surely feel inadequate if you didn’t. Accordingly, I hadn’t changed out of the dark blue three-piece suit I’d worn to the office today. Now, however, I was regretting my decision to meet my date here rather than insisting I was far too busy for anything but a quick meal in my office.
Even though the restaurant was full of attractive women in evening gowns, my attention kept alternating between my phone and the heirloom gold watch I’d inherited when I’d received my business degree from the University of Glasgow. I kept it in perfect condition, so much so that it was as accurate as the satellite from which my phone received its information. Information that told me that my date was now eight minutes behind schedule.
A local business associate, Lee Armisen, had insisted I go to dinner with one of his cousins, who deserved better than the drunken frat boys who usually hit on her. At thirty-three, I was quite a few years removed from anything resembling a ‘frat boy.’ Lee and I had known each other for more than a decade, both having come into our respective family businesses straight out of college.
“Trust me, friend,” he told me a few days ago. “I know what it’s like being raised by a single, workaholic dad. You and Evanne could use a strong female presence, and Song could be that for you. Just one date and you’ll see. I promise.”
I didn’t bother explaining to him that Evanne’s mother was already a strong female presence, or that I wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone, strong or not. But the two of us were in business together, and he was probably the closest thing I had to a friend outside of my brothers. A single date didn’t seem like too much trouble to keep the peace between us.
At least, it hadn’t at the time.
While I hadn’t been looking forward to tonight, I’d had my mind wrapped around it as a necessary business event, no different than taking an associate out for drinks when I’d rather spend my time actually working. Just sitting here waiting, however, was a waste of everyone’s time, and if there was one thing I hated above all else, it was wasting time.
It was quarter past eight before an exotic-looking young woman approached my table. Long, dark waves of hair, almond-shaped eyes, olive skin, and a trim body sheathed in a silky white dress that showed a more-than-generous amount of leg. I recognized her from Lee’s photos, so I stood as soon as I saw her. Even though she was late, I would be polite. Besides, she might have a good excuse for the tardiness. Assumptions did no one favors.
“Wow, you’re tall!” she exclaimed when I moved to pull out her chair. She must have been all of five-foot-two – including her heels – while I towered over her at six-and-a-half-feet tall.
I chuckled politely. “You must be Song Armisen.”
“The one and only,” she giggled, showing a row of impossibly white teeth.
I put out my hand for her to shake at the same time as she opened her arms for a hug. I felt eyes on me when I didn’t go in for the hug, but I refused to be embarrassed. Not everyone was comfortable hugging complete strangers. I didn’t feel it was appropriate to force anyone into physical contact that made them uncomfortable.
Song awkwardly placed her small, limp hand in mine, facing downwards as though I should kiss it. I could have, I supposed, but some part of me stiffened at the idea of her expectations of casual touch…and it wasn’t the sort of stiffening that came with attraction.
She sat, and I pushed in her chair, the smile on my face feeling more plastic than it had a few minutes ago.
“What a gentleman!” she squeaked. She had a shrill voice that almost seemed too much so to be real.
I absently wondered if she’d been told to play it up and come across as cute or girlish. I have split my years almost evenly between America and Scotland, but I found many of my preferences and opinions formed by my native land. Unfortunately for Miss Armisen, none of those preferences reflected positively on her.
I took my seat and reached for my scotch. A quick sip fortified me enough to ask, “How was the traffic?”
“Fine,” she said with another dazzling smile. “I got a Lyft.” There was a beat of silence where I waited for her to explain why she was late, but instead, she said, “I love your suit. Gucci?”
“Canali. And thank you.”
She giggled for some reason, though I couldn’t imagine what she found amusing. When the waiter arrived a moment later, she immediately ordered a bottle of their best red wine.
She winked at me. “Only the best for us.”
I didn’t likered wine, but I liked her presumption and her use ofuseven less.
The waiter looked at me, his opinion of my date hidden behind a polite mask. I’d worn enough of my own that I could still see the disapproval. I wasn’t about to draw attention to it though. Not when my own opinion of Song hadn’t been improved by her tacky flirting and whatever she’d intended to accomplish with her order of wine.
“Another Highland Park, sir?” His tone was mild and perfectly professional.
“A double, thank you.”
He gave me a sympathetic nod and walked away.
“Ooh, we’re gonna havefuntonight.” Song giggled, and it set my teeth on edge. “I like a man who isn’t afraid to let loose.”
