“It was fine.”
“It really wasn’t.”
“Come sit down and have some coffee.”
I perched on the edge of the couch, and as he handed me a mug, I asked, “Where were you going?”
“When?”
“Last night, when I jumped in your taxi.”
“Oh. I’d asked the cab driver to take me to a bar.”
“Why? There are four in this hotel.”
“It was a specific type of bar.”
“Was it a gay bar? You said something last night about liking guys, and—oh shit! I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I?”
Tory seemed flustered. “No. I mean, yes, it was a gay bar. But you didn’t…” He paused and regrouped before saying, “I probably wouldn’t have met anyone anyway.”
“Looking like that, with your perfect hair, and handsome face, and big muscles? You would have been beating them off.” He glanced at me, and I quickly added, “With a stick. You would have been swarmed, is what I was trying to say.”
“I liked spending time with you.”
“I don’t see why. I was a train wreck.” I took a sip of coffee and said, “I want you to know I’m not usually like that. I don’t even remember the last time I got drunk, and I’m absolutely not the kind of person to cry and feel sorry for myself.”
“It’s understandable that your son’s wedding day would stir up a lot of emotions. And it’s not the worst thing to drink too much champagne and spill your guts to a stranger.”
“But that might not be all I did. Actually, I just remembered that my son’s housemates invited me to join them for brunch this morning, so I can ask them if I did anything embarrassing. What time is it?”
Tory glanced at his phone. “Nine-thirty.”
“I should go soon.”
“Before you do, can I get your number?”
“Why?” Okay, so maybe that was a weird response to his question, but I couldn’t imagine why he’d want it.
“You mentioned you live in Southern California. I do too, and I’d like to call you when we’re back home and take you to dinner.”
“Are you asking me out?”
He grinned at me and said, “I’m trying to.”
“Why would you want anything to do with me after last night?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Armando.”
“I was a disaster, and I don’t understand why you’d want to see me again.”
I hadn’t been fishing for a compliment, but I got one anyway. “I think you’re sexy and interesting,” he said. “I also think we’d have a good time together.”
This didn’t make sense. How could someone like him want someone like me? He was suave, sophisticated, and totally out of my league. Unless he was a knight in shining armor type and thought I needed rescuing… or maybe he wanted a project and thought I needed to be fixed.
“I’m really not the guy you met last night,” I said. “If you’re expecting me to open up about my problems, or cry on your shoulder about everything that’s wrong with my life?—”
“You don’t have to do any of that. In fact, you don’t have to tell me anything at all.”
