“You told Eli I liked him?” I ask, ready to stab her with my fork.
“Oh, so youdolike him?” Dixie says slyly and wiggles her eyebrows. “And no, I didn’t say a word to anyone. I’m just telling you what Eli has said about him in general.”
“It’s good Griffin is quiet,” Winnie replies. “Because Sadie won’t have to worry about shutting up. She can keep doing all the talking.”
“Ha. Ha,” I reply with zero humor.
“Is he your plans?” Dixie asks me as Winnie finishes the last of her pasta. “Please say he’s your plans.”
“It’s just coffee.” I relent, because as much as I don’t want to make this a big deal—yet—I like talking to my sisters about good stuff…and he is good stuff.
I stand up and walk out of the room. I’m barely two feet into the hall when I hear their chairs slide back and their feet stomping across the hardwood floors. They’re chasing me. I pick up the pace. I make it to my room at the end of the hall and start to close the door behind me, but those wily bastards manage to slip in before I can. Ugh. Here we go. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.
“You have a coffee date? With Sully?” Dixie repeats for clarification as she drops her ass onto my bed. “I need all the details.”
“I offered to give him texts updates on Eli.” I shrug, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. “And while we were texting, he asked if I wanted to meet him for coffee.”
“And you said yes?” Winnie seems so blown away it’s comical. “Who is this wizard that he can turn you back into a red-blooded woman?”
I roll my eyes and walk over to my closet. What the hell do I wear? I spend most of my time in scrubs at work or at home in sweats and yoga pants with my family. Ugh.
“Holy shit.” Winnie gasps, and I spin to see her face buried in Dixie’s cell phone. “He is so delicious.”
“Who?”
“I pulled up pics of Sully.” Dixie smiles deviously. I jump across the room and lunge for the phone, scooping it out of Winnie’s hand. The picture on the screen is him in a suit walking behind some players in the arena. It must be prior to a game because they’re all in suits. Man, he was born to wear suits. Jude is also in the picture, but I ignore him and make the image bigger so I can get an unobstructed view of Griffin.
“I can see how he was able to pull you out of your self-imposed manbatical,” Winnie says and reaches for the phone. I let her take it, and she stares at him again. “Those are some seriously kissable lips. And those eyes are the definition of bedroom eyes, all sultry and…”
“Smoldering,” I finish for her, and she nods without taking her eyes off the screen. “Everything about his looks are smoldering, but it’s his personality that had me agree to the date.”
Both my sisters look up now, and I almost flush under their curious stares. “He’s charming and just made me feel…relaxed.”
“No bullshit,” Winnie says with a sincere grin. “I’m happy for you.”
“It’s just coffee,” I repeat, trying to convince both her and myself. “Now can you two skedaddle so I can get ready in peace?”
I start to push them off my bed, and they make their way to the door. “Don’t you want our advice on what to wear? How to do your hair? You are actually going to do it, right? Not just shove it into a ponytail like you’re a gym rat or an overtired mom of colicky triplets like you usually do.”
“Out,” I demand, and once they’re in the hall I shut the door and lock it.
I manage to find something to wear that doesn’t make me feel frumpy. Just a pair of dark skinny jeans and a pale gray, fuzzy, soft off-the-shoulder sweater Zoey got me for Christmas that I never had any reason to wear. I tug on some charcoal gray booties and actually do a pretty decent job with my makeup, even though the cosmetics are so old they should probably be thrown out. I dart into Winnie’s room on the way out and grab her cranberry colored MAC lipstick and manage to sneak by the den, where Dixie and Winnie have joined our parents, and get out of the house without having to say goodbye to any of them or answer more questions about the date.
The coffee shop he picked is a forty-minute walk away, but I’m early enough that I can do it, and the weather is too perfect to ignore. San Francisco is very different from where I grew up. In early March in Toronto it’s either raining or snowing and too cold to stroll the streets in just a sweater. But San Franciscans’ idea of cold is mildly chilly to me, and they get pockets of days all winter long, like today, where it’s sunny and downright balmy. I pull my sunglasses out of my bag, slip them on, and start my walk.
I get to the coffee shop with ten minutes to spare…I wait outside, not wanting to take up a table without a beverage, and waiting to order until he gets here seems like the thing to do. But twenty minutes later, he’s still not here. I glance at my phone—he hasn’t called or texted. I start to pace in front of the coffee shop window and then glance inside to make sure I didn’t somehow miss him and he’s already there. He isn’t.
After another ten minutes I start to get worried. Is he okay? Was there an accident? I walk inside and order a chai tea so I can sit down, because after the walk and waiting around, my feet are killing me. These booties are not even close to as comfortable as the sneakers I wear at work. As I sit at a small table in the corner by the window and sip my tea, I can’t help but entertain the startling and humiliating possibility that I’m being stood up.
My cheeks turn pink at the thought. Would he really do that to me? Why? This was his idea. What the hell…I glance at my phone and realize it’s been forty-three minutes since we were supposed to meet. Do I text him and ask if he’s okay, or do I assume the worst and send him a fuck-you text? I don’t know what to do—except leave. It’s time to leave.
I stand and walk to the garbage, tossing my now lukewarm tea in the trash. I push open the door. My phone rings. I freeze and pull it out of my back pocket. It’s Griffin.
“Hello?”
“Sadie, I am so sorry,” he says, his words a rush. “I was at work, and something came up—an emergency—and I was going to call you immediately, but I forgot my damn phone at home and I don’t know your number by heart. I even went back into the arena to see if I could find Jude and get your number from him, but he’d already left.”
“Are you okay?” I ask instantly because I can tell by his tone, remorseful and pained, that he isn’t making this up. Something happened.
