EVERY STICKY, CLOUDLESS weekend felt like an unofficial holiday in Manhattan. When Cierra stepped out of her apartment building, a group of young men smiled in her direction, riding on their bikes to whatever adventure awaited them that day. Cierra’s own adventure was starting in twenty minutes — her third date with Julian.
The run-in with Harry and Melanie had shaken Cierra a bit, but she had taken Mia’s bathroom speech to heart. Her friend was right — Cierra knew she was being harsh on herself and needed to get over this insecurity about not being on the right timeline. But that was a lot easier said than done.
Hell, maybe she needed to get a therapist, but that wasn’t in the budget. There were a lot of perks to being a private chef, but medical insurance wasn’t one of them. So, for the time being, her strategy was pretending to be the ideal version of herself long enough that it manifested for free. And today, this ideal version of herself had a date with a sexy, established, slightly older man named Julian. Her outfit was foolproof, and the weather couldn’t be better. They’d decided on a brief walk in Central Park, followed by dinner at an old-school Italian restaurant in the Upper West Side, and Cierra couldn’t wait.
She wore a pair of sporty sandals, olive shorts that cinched at the waist and hugged her hips, and a cream scoop-neck tank top. She deliberated over what to do with her hair, since sometimesit could make her overheat, but opted for a half-up, half-down look and kept the make-up simple — she didn’t need any melting eyeliner effects.
Julian had told her to meet him at 110th and Broadway, which was in the northwest corner of the park. The park itself contains the size of three neighborhoods, and the area where their date would occur was quiet, far enough north that tourists were sparse. Swinging by a bodega, she picked up some fancy lemonades, just in case they got thirsty.
Like their first date, Julian was right on time. Sitting peacefully on a stone bench, his gaze was as impassive as the carved granite seat — until he saw her. His face broke into a smile, his eyes twinkling with affection as he drank in her form. He gave her a little kiss on the cheek when they greeted each other, and the feeling of his full lips made her heart give a little leap.
He looked down quizzically at the tote she was lugging. “What’s all this? Thought I said I’d take care of this date?”
“I know, but the weather was so nice . . . I just brought some lemonade and snacks.”
“I certainly wouldn’t want you getting hungry,” he teased, and Cierra looked up to the left, shaking her head but not feeling as mortified. The entire ordeal was already becoming a funny story. Her embarrassment had all but evaporated.
“Do you spend a lot of time in the park? Being a runner and all?”
“Hmm.” As he thought about his answer, he delicately scooped the bags Cierra had been carrying into his own arms before resuming, “Probably two or three times a week, when I’m in town, that is. I can’t remember if I told you already, but I split my time between New York and Vermont.”
“Yeah, I think so. For work, right?” In total honesty, Cierra didn’t recall at all. That detail must have slipped her mindsomewhere between the second or third passion fruit margarita on their first date.
“Partially work, partially just a preference. I got lucky with a hybrid job. It was always my dream to have the best of both worlds, having access to that city energy when I needed it. And then other times, solitude if I want more peaceful surroundings. I don’t know . . . ‘balance’ and all that good stuff.”
“I get that.”
The duo shuffled their way farther down a paved esplanade, eventually veering into a more wooded section, filled with winding footpaths and hidden field openings.
“What about you? How long have you been in the city?”
“Eight years this summer.” The gravity of how long she’d been there sunk in. “I remember moving into my first apartment, and I feel like I blinked and now I have a favorite pizza spot in every neighborhood.” Ahead, she saw come chipmunks chasing each other in a perfect clearing, with only a few other people around. The shade from the woods brought the temperature down to a level where they could comfortably sit and chat.
“What about here?” Cierra suggested.
“It looks perfect.”
He whipped out a picnic blanket he had brought, to Cierra’s amazement. It matched all his other actions, but it was rare for her to see a man be so consistently well-prepared. Or maybe this was just what being with someone slightly more mature was like. Either way, it was a turn-on.
After settling into their spot, the conversation between Cierra and Julian flowed effortlessly. A couple of hours passed without either noticing; the only sign of time passing was the grumbling of Julian’s stomach.
“Is it time to go?” Cierra asked with a chuckle.
“I guess so,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile. “Carmine’s isn’t too far from here. It’s too bad, though. I don’t wanna leave the park. I’m having such a nice time here with you.”
Cierra smiled, feeling the same way. Then, her face brightened, remembering what she’d prepared. “I actually packed some sandwiches. If you want one?”
“Definitely.”
She took out the wrapped sandwiches she had made earlier, along with the lemonade. Red and white checkered wax paper contained the rosemary focaccia bread, pressing together fresh basil pesto, deep red sundried tomatoes, and an arrangement of thinly sliced prosciutto, salami, along with meaty discs of pearl-white bufala mozzarella. Normally, she didn’t like to cook for people so early on, but she’d felt inspired.
On his first bite, Julian’s eyebrows shot up as he slowly chewed. “This is amazing.”
Cierra beamed with pride — her pressed Italian sandwiches were always a hit.
Watching his eyes close and hearing themmsandoohs, she had to remind herself to take a bite of her own portion. He wasn’t that much older than her, just seven years, but he was getting little silver hairs on the sides that blended into his warm chestnut-colored hair. And when he laughed, the lines around his eyes spread like a little fan, adding to the affection she felt toward him.
Maybe it was the woodsy lushness of the ramble, the subtle chirping of the birds or the fact that Julian looked as if he just stepped out of a GAP catalogue and into their date, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was having a little too good of a time. Like you were cheating if meeting someone new went this well. How could it be that, just after her breakup, she met a man like him? Inquisitive, charming, and into her as well.
