Maybe he understood now. Maybe he just needed a few hours to see that.
Or see her walk in and notice that her mannerisms now aren’t much different than they’d been before when he’d thought she was acting differently.
He had let her clothing blind him and shouldn’t have.
“It’s more than that,” he said. “Just like I suspected. You’re nervous about us, but your whole demeanor is different. You look like you want to hide in the corner with a dunce hat on rather than lift your head high over who you are. If you’re still the same person it shouldn’t matter what you’ve got on.”
He’d noticed her nervousness at times. Regardless of how she was dressed. He just assumed she was shy and nothing more.
She snorted. “I’m standing out like a sore thumb on perfectly manicured hands right now.”
She even kept her hair in a bun. She was the quintessential nerd at this moment and looked embarrassed over it.
“In your eyes.”
“Come on, Dean,” she said, letting out a huff. “Look around and what do you see? Not too many that look like me.”
“You need to get over it and own who you are,” he said. “Whether you’re rocking a black dress.” His hand waved over thefront of her. “Or this. Own it.” He looked around, then turned his eyes to her. “But I don’t know them like I do you,” he said, leaning closer to her on the bar. “I don’t sleep with them.”
Her eyes filled. “I’m sorry. It’s hard. It took a lot for me to come here like this.”
“I understand that.”
“You do?” she asked.
“I do. I understand more than you may realize and I shouldn’t be hard on you. It was a shock. I guess you walking in here like this was your way of proving you’re still the same person regardless of your clothes. Sort of.”
“There is no sort of about it. Maybe the clothes do change my demeanor. I feel confident when I look nicer. I know that. I’ve always known that.”
“Yet you go back to what makes you feel bad about yourself? Why? I made a change. I told you. And honestly, maybe that’s what really is bothering me. If you can admit that, why do you torture yourself?”
He just didn’t expect her to be that way.
“Maybe I’m not as strong as you. It’s hard to get up when you’re knocked down so much. Even when you feel good about yourself.”
He turned his head to get an order. “I’ll be back.”
She picked the menu up one more time, then put it down. When he came back over, she said, “I’ll just get the nachos. I’m not that hungry but can pick at them.”
He put the order in and went back to another customer. He wanted to finish this conversation but didn’t have anyone to cover him.
And maybe it was best to give them both a chance to think of their replies.
He didn’t expect her to start a shouting match in here. She wasn’t that type of person.
When the nachos came out, he slid by and snagged a few like he always did, trying to let her know he was moving past it, the best way he could without being able to talk much more.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s a little busy here today.”
“No problem. That’s why I waited though. Or waited until the lunch rush was done. I guess it never really is later in the week.”
“Thursday through Saturday are good business days,” he said. “And you’re going to be late getting back to work.”
He always watched the time for her. “I took the afternoon off. I’ve got some things to do.”
He nodded his head, so she went back to picking at her lunch while he worked and kept an eye on her.
She pulled her wallet out and he was right there, saying, “No charge.”
