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“What’s right with cabernet?” I mutter under my breath. “Nothing, the cabernet sounds great.” I fake a smile.

Bradley smiles at my response, but I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m an uncultured swine.

The waiter returns with a bottle of cabernet. I recognize the expensive bottle as one of my parents’ favorites. He pours two glasses for us without spilling a drop.

“I’ll let you enjoy your wine and be back momentarily to check on you.” He does a little bow and then leaves.

I take a sip of wine. Bleck, this tastes nothing like strawberries. Bradley is watching me to see my reaction. “Mmm. That’s great … I can definitely taste the oak.”

He nods, looking satisfied, then swirls his glass and inhales the scent of the wine. I have to hold back a laugh. He looks ridiculous. Like he thinks he's a sommelier or something.

He takes a sip and swishes it around inside his mouth as if it's mouthwash.

“Mmm, you’re right. I detect the oak as well.”

I smile and take another tiny sip to keep from laughing at him.

“So, you’re in education?” Bradley asks, setting his wine glass down.

“Yes, I’m an elementary teacher. What do you do?” I return the question.

He smirks. “I’m the CEO of Midwest Credit Union. I used to be CFO at one of our branches in Kansas City, but was promoted and moved here.”

“Oh, wow, I’m sure that keeps you busy.”

He nods. “It does, which is why I had to schedule this date a few weeks in advance. My schedule fills up rather quickly.”

I get the impression that he thinks I should feel honored to be on this date with him.

“I bet,” I reply before taking another sip of the disgusting cabernet.

The waiter comes back to our table and takes our orders. Bradley orders something that sounds fancy and pronounces it correctly—or at least he says it with enough confidence I believe it to be pronounced correctly.

I keep it simple by ordering chicken alfredo. Honestly, I’ve yet to find a place that makes alfredo as good as Olive Garden, but we’ll see what this place can cook up.

“How are you liking Wichita so far?”

He rolls his lips together while he thinks. “Since we’re from Kansas City, we’re used to the luxuries of a bigger city. But Wichita isn’t so bad.”

“We?” I ask.

“Oh, yes. I have a son. He’s nine.” He smiles genuinely for the first time all evening. “Smartest kid you’ll ever meet; the apple doesn’t fall far.”

Okay, I thought he was actually being sweet until he tacked on that last part. “I love kids. I have a daughter. She’s three.”

“Three is a fun age,” He pauses. “Your father mentioned you lost your husband. I’m sorry for your loss.” He seems genuinely sympathetic in the way he says it.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. It was several years ago, but it’s still difficult.” I run my finger along my wine glass. “What about you? Were you married before?”

“Yes, my wife and I divorced years ago.” He says it nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal. “Sometimes it takes a few tries to find the right one, you know?” He shrugs.

I take another sip of wine to avoid saying something I’ll regret. Marriage is something I take very seriously. I don’t understand how he can have such a flippant attitude about it. I’m not so naive that I think every marriage is perfect, but if I ever get married again, I want to be 100% sure that myself and the man I’m marrying are willing to give it our all, no matter what life throws at us.

Our waiter brings our food out, and it smells delicious. I’m relieved to have a break in our conversation, and also that the portions aren’t tiny European sizes, because I’m starving. I dig into my Alfredo and sauces dribble down my chin as I slurp up the noodles. There’s just no graceful way to eat chicken Alfredo. I probably should’ve taken that into consideration before ordering.

“Mmmm.” I swallow and wipe my mouth with my cloth napkin. “This is even better than Olive Garden’s alfredo.”

Bradley bursts out laughing. This is the first time I’ve heard the man really laugh. “You like the Olive Garden?”