He smirks, stretching his arm across the back of the booth. “Well, right now, I’m working at a dead-end job, like you, but I’m going to be a music producer. I’m going to move to Los Angeles in a few months.”
The waiter comes just in time to deliver my drink.
“Thank you.” I gesture for him to bend down. I’m able to see a small bead of sweat gathering on his temple from running all over the restaurant. I’m sure it doesn’t help when he has to be inserted into drama. Cupping my hand over my mouth so my date can’t see me, I whisper, “Keep them coming please. This will be the longest date of my life.”
The waiter straightens, rolling his lips together to hide a smile before giving me a half nod. “Of course. And your food will be here soon.”
“Thank you so much.” My eyes drop to his name tag. “Tyler.”
With a small grin teasing his mouth, he hurries away, hands laced behind his back.
“Were you flirting with him?”
My brows rise as I stare at my date, shocked at the amount of audacity he seems to hold at all times. “Excuse me?”
Brian raises his voice, pointing in the direction Tyler scurried off to. “You were flirting with the waiter right in front of me.”
My cheeks heat when I notice a few people staring at me, murmuring to their friends. “I wasn’t. I asked him to keep bringing me drinks. That’s all.” My phone takes the perfect moment to vibrate in my purse and that gives me the reason I need to stand. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Brain’s eyes narrow, a dangerous expression pinching his eyes to narrow slits. “You better come back. Don’t leave me here with the bill. I expect to split it.”
Oh my god. He’s a nightmare. How can I escape his clutches safely? My heart begins to race as I zigzag my way through the tables, hurrying to the restroom to get a break from this guy. As I make my way through the restaurant, I become overstimulated and slightly panicked. My heels kiss the hardwood floors, the light click-clack vanishing under the murmurs of conversation.
My skin crawls at how Brian spoke to me. The tone he used. There was an edge to it that told me to get up and run out of the restaurant. He makes my stomach turn and my instincts claw at my chest.
I’m never the type to just leave in the middle of a date, that’s rude. But I can make an exception, right? I should get out now while I can.
When I push the bathroom door open, the lights are even dimmer. A polished black slab forms the countertop, with three sinks and gold-framed mirrors hanging over each. There are four stalls with doors that nearly touch the black-and-white tiled floor.
Slipping into a stall, I snag the silver lock to slide it shut, leaning against the wall to take a deep breath.
“You’re fine,” I whisper to myself. “He’s just another asshole. Just eat the food, go home, and never think about him again.” I try to hype myself up, but knowing I have to go back to the booth where he’s waiting to say some snide remark makes me want to sprint out the front doors.
Remembering that my phone vibrated, I dig into my purse and grab it, a welcome distraction from this disastrous date.
I’ve only been here for ten minutes. How can someone be so rude so fast to someone they don’t know?
I gasp when I see who the text is from.
Mr. Wrong Number:Hey, how are you?
Needing an escape, I don’t hesitate to text him back.
Me:My savior! I’m only on the worst date ever and currently hiding in the bathroom. I regret online dating.
Him:Who are you on a date with? Why is it bad?
I can’t help but grin. I scroll through our messages again, holding in a groan when I see his broad chest, his hand slipping down his abdomen.
“Focus, Olivia. You are here on a date with another man. A horrible man, but someone who you agreed to share dinner with.”
My fingers fly over the screen as I reply.
Me:He’s someone I swiped on a dating app, and he’s very rude in person. He’s made a few remarks that have made me uncomfortable. I left to go to the restroom and I’m hiding out.
Mr. Wrong Number:What do you mean? What the fuck has he said? Do you need me to come down there? I’ll make him uncomfortable. He’s an idiot. He’s lucky to have a date with a woman like you.
Me:I can take care of him. His personality surprised me is all. He’s talking down to me. He thinks my job means I have no dreams. He likes to talk about himself a lot. He ordered for me before I got here and stole my drink. Twice!
