He looks good.Dark jeans, a cream-colored sweater with a few buttons at the neck, and a black car coat.His hair looks rumpled, like it usually does, but his angular jaw is clean-shaven.That’s where my eyes linger until his voice draws my attention.
“That’s a fantastic color on you.”
Automatically, one of my hands smooths down the front of my sweater, making sure my Buddha pouch is well hidden.
“It was a gift from Savvy.”
“She has good taste.It looks great on you.”
Weirdly enough, I appreciate the fact he chooses to compliment something I’m wearing versus me.It takes some of the pressure off.
“You clean up well yourself,” I feel comfortable sharing.
“Yeah, well, I’ll have you know that took a lot of effort,” he jokes, taking my coat from me and holding it open for me to slip my arms into.
Then he turns me around and starts closing a few toggles on my coat.
“It’s chilly out there,” he explains, as I hold my breath when his fingers brush close to my chest.“I hope you’re hungry, because I’m starving, and I had a quick glimpse at their menu.”
Then he grabs my hand and leads me from the apartment, taking my keys to lock up behind me, before guiding me down the outside fire escape.
My apartment is accessible from the stairs in the rear of the coffee shop, but my official front door is at the top of the fire escape at the back of the building.I only use those stairs when I take my car, which is parked in one of the two parking spaces in the back alley.Tonight, Hugo’s truck is parked in the second spot.It feels almost intimate, seeing it towering next to my little Toyota.
I’m grateful for the running board, trying to get into the passenger seat of his truck, although I wouldn’t have put it past Hugo to lift me in if I hadn’t managed on my own.
“So where is Carson tonight?”I ask in an effort to fill the silence in the truck.
“Having dinner at Tate’s.Savvy invited him over,” he shares, briefly taking his eyes off the road to glance over at me.
Since Nate returned to Silence with his daughter last spring, it didn’t take long for him and Savvy to rekindle the connection they lost well over a decade ago.That makes Savannah Tatum’s stepmother, especially now she’s pregnant with Tate’s little brother or sister too.
The girl was hungry for some motherly nurturing after losing her mother.That’s also what first connected Tate and Carson; the loss of their respective mothers.The girl’s father hadn’t been too keen on the idea, especially given the age difference between the two, but everyone can see how protective and smitten with her Carson is.
“I guess Nate is getting used to the idea of his fifteen-year-old daughter dating,” I observe.
“I don’t think there is ever a time a father gets used to his daughter dating.In truth, I’m not sure I could handle it, I’m relieved I have a son, it’s certainly a little easier.I told Carson in no uncertain terms if he screws up with this girl, if he is anything but an absolute gentleman around her, he’s not only going to get his butt kicked by yours truly, but I’ll invite Tate’s fatherandher stepmother to have a go at him.”He chuckles at himself.“You should’ve seen his face.I’m pretty sure he was more afraid of what Savvy might do to him than her dad or me.”
I smile.“That only confirms he’s a smart kid, because there isn’t a doubt in my mind Savvy would do damage.”
The easy conversation serves to alleviate some of my anxiety, and by the time Hugo pulls his truck up to the quaint new restaurant just south of town, my stomach is no longer in knots and I’m actually a little hungry.
The Fusion is housed in an old warehouse.They maintained the original industrial feel with the old brick and exposed ductwork, but juxtaposed it with large windows, sleek glass tables, rich, jewel-toned fabrics on the luxurious chairs and banquettes, and a gorgeous, gleaming marble floor.At the center of each table is a simple, but modern, copper standing lamp, creating little warm islands of privacy in each booth.
“Wow,” I express under my breath as the server leads us through the restaurant.
Hugo’s hand at my elbow gives me a little squeeze in confirmation.
“Chair or bench?”he asks me when we arrive at our table.
“Bench,” I opt.
“You can just tap the base of the lamp to dim or brighten the light,” the girl, who introduced herself as Rachel, indicates.She hands us each a menu.“Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Would you care for some wine?”Hugo prompts when I hesitate.
I’m not supposed to drink alcohol with the pills Dana prescribed, but it seems like a waste to just nurse a glass of water in a restaurant like this.Beautiful as it is, it’s a little intimidating, and I can’t help feeling a little out of place.Still, at least I can pretend to belong by sipping a glass of wine.I can always start the medication tomorrow.
“I would love some.Do you have a pinot grigio?”
