“You don’t normally close down famous restaurants for your meetings, either.”
I kiss her briefly, wanting to linger but knowing we have all night. “No, I don’t. Welcome to our first real date.” I offer my arm, she loops hers through, and I escort her to the hibachi table.
“Wait,” she says. “I need to make a restroom run.”
I let her go, wondering why there was a twinge of sadness in her eyes. Did I do something wrong? Does she not actually want this?
No. That can’t be true. She loves hibachi regardless of who takes her there. And she wants me. She’s made that clear. Now is not the time for my insecurities to flare.
She’s not going to leave me,I repeat in my head. Over and over. Forcing myself to believe it.
I’m into this woman.
I swore I’d never entertain the idea of love, but if this is what falling for someone feels like, then I’ve been an utter fool to block my heart from this blissful, albeit terrifying, state of existence. I can’t call what I’m feeling love quite yet, but I can say it’s headedin that direction. Though, I never would have gotten here without the ingrained trust that bonds Hayden and me.
Checking my watch, I rock back and forth on my feet, waiting for Hayden to come back from the bathroom. She’s been in there for about five minutes now, and I hope everything is okay.
Is it acceptable to ask that when a lady comes back from using the facilities?
A young teppanyaki chef steps behind the grill in the middle of the u-shaped table arrangement, and attempts to ask me a question that I can’t understand through his broken English. I ask him to repeat the question, but I ask him in Japanese and let him know that I can speak the language fluently. A smile lights up his face and he begins to repeat himself in his native tongue. We converse for a moment after the order is placed, and then he walks away in buoyant strides.
Hayden is suddenly behind me, speaking in Japanese a phrase that translates to “you’ve got to be kidding me” as she plops into the chair beside me. She lands so hard that she slightly bounces back up. I can’t tell if it’s a fire of passion or a fire of frustration in her eyes as she stares at me, her face mere inches away. Her glossy lips, slowly forming a pout, look tastier than anything this restaurant has to offer.
Hayden speaks slowly. “You could speak fluent Japanese this entire time?”
Frustration. Definitely frustration.
“My best friend is Japanese.” It’s an obvious connection, right? Ren plus me equals years of Japanese lessons.
“And? My best friend is southern. That doesn’t mean I learned how to speak it.”
I laugh, but I quickly disguise it as a stuttered cough when Hayden knits her brows together and narrows her eyes.
Clearing my throat and trying to stifle any amusement from showing through my face, I try again. “What I meant to say was, yes, I can speak Japanese. I chose it as my foreign language in school and stuck with it through college. And having Ren as my best friend helped tremendously.”
Hayden’s face softens, then she turns her body toward the table, places her elbows down, and lets her head collapse into her hands. “Oh my gosh, Darcy. This entire time. You’ve heard me when I’ve talked about you in Japanese, my conversations with Ren, and, OH MY GOSH…” She shoots up “You know what was written on your cup that day the coffee spilled all over me!”
A wicked grin consumes my face. I’ll never forget it. “Namie.”
“God’s blessing,” we say simultaneously, her with a deep groan and me through a broad smirk.
“I appreciated that one,” I admit. “I didn’t, however, appreciate all the times you called me a stubborn jack—”
“Okay, Darcy.” She looks down at her fingers, her light laughter laced with embarrassment. I can’t get enough of the pink coating her light brown cheeks. Finally, she looks at me in all seriousness. “I get it. I’ve called you some ugly names in the heat of my irritation with you. I’m sorry for that.”
“Don’t worry.” I lower my voice to a murmur as I lean closer to her. She stiffens as I place my lips to her ear. “I promise to only remember that I am God’s blessing to you.”
Hayden shoves me away, but I don’t miss the way her lips are pressing together, fighting hard to not let a smile break through.
The chef returns to the grill wearing his tall, black hat and apron. Hayden and I straighten in our seats as he begins cooking rice, veggies, and various meats tossed in sauces I can’t wait to shove into my mouth. While he cooks, Hayden slips her hand into mine and weaves our fingers together.
“Thank you for tonight.” She leans her head on my shoulder, and my heart beats harder than the spatula on the grill in front of us. “I thought we wouldn’t get to go on a real date for a long time.”
I remove her hand from mine and slip my arm around her waist, tucking her as close to my side as I can while we sit in these stools. “No matter where this campaign goes, no matter how busy our lives become, I willalwaysmake time for you, my Divine Princess.”
Hayden
Always. I like that word. It’s full of promise and hope and secured dreams.
