“But you give me a run for my money.”
On our walk towards one of the igloos, I force my smile to remain in place while my fist clenches and unclenches.
It’s just a date, I remind myself. It’s part of my plan. And it’s a simple date that, despite the late start and interesting wardrobe choices, could still go well. The roses aren’t indicative of anything. Julian isn’t Cole.
But at least Cole dressed better.
I banish the thought as we sit, and Julian spends a moment admiring the blue lights around us.
“So, how was your day?” I ask, breaking the ice.
“Good,” Julian says. “Spent the morning at the gym—leg day—and the rest of the day working on a personal project for my portfolio.”
My ears prick up. Work is a safe topic, an easy gateway to getting to know someone. We had talked a little on the app, but nothing veering into real world topics.
I lean in. “I’d love to hear more.”
“I love my job. It’s great. But I’ve been there since I graduated college,”he says, and I stiffen a little at the reminder of the age difference. College must’ve been not too long ago for him, while I barely remember my time. “And I want to move on soon. So, I’ve taken on some personal clients, and part of my Saturday goes to working on those.”
“Working on the weekend isn’t great, trust me I know,” I say, finding congruence in our working habits, as I think back to weekends spent poring over Danaya’s pro bono request. “But I hope you’re at least enjoying the work.”
Julian huffs. “It’s work. SEO content writing and website copywriting for this gift shop brand.”
“A gift shop brand? Like a chain of shops?”
I await his response, genuinely curious, but instead, his voice comes out soft.
“God, you’re breathtaking,” Julian exhales as if in a trance. He quickly snaps out of it. “Sorry, I got a little distracted. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but you look amazing. Even more than onCupid’s Bow.”
The appreciation makes me smile. “And you’re not so bad yourself.” I return the compliment even though the deep-blue lights aren’t great on him.
“Coming from you? It feels like I’ve won the lottery,” he jokes. “To answer your question, they curate and ship gift baskets. I don’t understand it, but they pay well.”
My mind goes to all the gift baskets my parents routinely receive during the Christmas holidays. Growing up, and till this moment, I suppose, I always imagined it to be a Herculean task to make and deliver those heavy baskets that housed vacation chocolates, pantry items, and other household goods.
“Is it an everything basket?” I ask. Now Julian looks confused, so I clarify. “Growing up, we had baskets with everything from chocolates to champagne to pasta and other pantry items.”
“These are more curated from what I’ve seen,” Julian says.
I give him a moment to explain further, but it never comes. He takes me in, smiling intently. The previous low simmer in his eyes burns brighternow, and in another circumstance, I might welcome it, but during a date where getting to know each other is the goal, it’s too much. Not a pleasant simmer, but a scalding bath.
With myCupid’s Bowplan on my mind, I continue. “Any interesting examples you’ve seen? I imagine a chocolate basket is pretty typical.”
Julian’s smile tempers. “Nothing exciting. And honestly, I’d rather not think about work with someone as beautiful as you in front of me.” He leans forward, breathing me in like a smoker savoring their last pull. His eyes roam, zeroing in on my chest.
Not to compare a date to a meeting with aCupid’s Bowworker, but when Niyi looked at me, it felt different. More tasteful than this. I want to be adored and lusted after, but not like this.
I redirect him with a noticeable throat clear.
“How about we look at the menu,” I say, unable to keep the harsh edge out of my voice. As I scan our options, the tension loosens, and I remember why I picked this restaurant—the food.
“Oooh, churro fries,” I coo.
“The chicken wings sound pretty good,” Julian says, his excitement almost mirroring mine. The joy brings a boyish charm out of him.
I examine his soft features and growing beard. Despite the blue light, he is handsome. When he isn’t staring at me like a hawk.
“Boy, they’re glorified chicken nuggets, talmbout boneless chicken wings,” I tease, feeling more comfortable.
