Ethan’s driver met us on the curb, and like the night before, I slipped in and rolled down the window.
“You don’t like the air conditioning?”
“I like the cool. The breeze. Do you mind?” I asked.
He shook his head and looked at me as if he wanted to say something else. I had to look away. His eyes, I’d forgotten how blue they were.
After a few moments he spoke, “It seems that you’re a little distracted. Was I wrong to be so insistent about dinner?”
I shook my head. “No, sorry.” I turned to look at him again. “You know. It’s just.” I shrugged.
He drew his eyebrows together. “No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
“It’s just that there are rules, and yet here we are. And I want to be here, but I don’t want to behere. Do you know what I mean?”
“Not really.”
“I’m just sick of this cycle of disappointment I seem to be in. Hence the rules.”
He turned my hand so my palm faced up, and then linked his fingers through mine.
Ethan
It’s not that I’d never held a woman’s hand before, it was just that I’d never felt theurgeto hold a woman’s hand before. I wanted to touch her, to soothe her, to take away the cloud that seemed to surround her. I just didn’t know how.
“What cycle of disappointment? I’ve never had a problem getting it up, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Her head snapped around and she looked at me and laughed—a genuine, full, unaffected laugh. “I believe that. Maybe you’re the fun I need,” she said almost to herself.
“Maybe I am.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be better company when we get to the restaurant, I promise.”
“I don’t want you to be anything but yourself. You don’t have to put on any act with me.”
She stroked her thumb across my skin and I squeezed her hand.
We arrived at the restaurant sooner than I would have liked. I enjoyed having her next to me in the car with no one around us. I was close to suggesting we just go back to the hotel right now. But that would sound like I wanted to get into her underwear, which of course I did, but it wasn’t just that. I didn’t want to share her.
I knew instantly I’d chosen the wrong restaurant. We walked in and heads turned toward us, straining to see who had just arrived. It didn’t suit her. She wasn’t going to beimpressed with seeing some powerful hedge fund guy or some Hollywood actor. I’d gotten this totally wrong. Fuck.
We were shown to our table toward the back of the restaurant. I was jumpy. I was very close to fucking this whole evening up.
“You ok?” she asked as we sat.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Sorry for going all Sylvia Plath in the car.”
I laughed. “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to be yourself. I’m just a bit concerned this restaurant isn’t the right place for you.”
“Really?” she looked around. “It seems nice. You don’t like it?”
“It’s fine. I just don’t think it’s the type of place that I should have brought you. I should have picked a better restaurant.”
“It looks plenty fancy enough.”
“That’s the point. It’s too much I think. You suit something . . .”
