Oh. He thinks you were in the audience.
I picked up the glass and took a small sip. “I’m one of the cast members in the ballet.”
Confusion drew his eyebrows together. “You’re a ballerina?”
“I’m a ballet dancer,” I clarified. “It’s not quite the same as ballerina.”
His eyes drifted over to the muted television screen in the back corner. A ticker across the bottom read: “ONE DEAD IN CHICAGO DANCE THEATER SHOOTING.”
“Were you on stage?”
I took an even bigger sip this time since this was precisely what I came down to the bar to avoid. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?”
“Absolutely. What would you like to talk about?”
Oh, no.Small talk. “What do you do?”
“I’m a branch manager of an agri-chemical company down in Nashville.”
“That’s why you’re in town?”
“Yes, ma’am. They asked me to speak at a company conference.”
I nodded and scrambled to come up with another question, but couldn’t. Awkward silence stretched between us, and I cringed inside. I should have known better.
For some reason, Seth didn’t seem to mind or notice. He took a sip of his drink, turning the napkin absentmindedly on the bar. “I’m going to guess you know about as much about pesticides as I do about ballet.”
“Which is nothing?” A small smile crept across my lips.
“Bingo.” His phone vibrated, and he glanced at the screen. Whatever was there didn’t make him happy. He texted a quick response, set the phone down, and promptly drained his drink.
“It’s work stuff,” he said. “Our website is down.” He signaled to the bartender he’d like another. “There’s a licensing form our customers are supposed to have completed by the eighth. Which, you know, is tomorrow.”
Technically today,but I kept the comment to myself.
“I’m not IT,” he added. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
I stayed quiet, watching as the bartender prepared the new drink.
Seth must have felt the same tension I did, but he pressed on. “So... did I mention your dress is pretty?”
I smiled again. “Do you do that often?” I asked. “Speak at conferences?”
“Yeah, about every other month. We’ve got a new storage tank safety system for anhydrous ammonia that’s revolutionary.”
I could only imagine the face I made. I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.
“It’s got all sorts of new features and capabilities,” he continued, “like an auto shut off valve, and how talking about it will make you seem like the most boring person in the world.” He pressed his glass to his lips, drank a swallow’s worth, andthen blew out a breath. “This guy’s giving me my money’s worth. My Manhattan’s almost undrinkable.”
His phone on the bar top vibrated again, and relief filled his expression when he checked the screen.
“Crisis averted. The site’s already back up.” He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. “So, what do you do for fun?”
I blinked. “I, um, enjoy reading.”
“Yeah? What kind of books?”
“Romance.”
