Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
He coughed into his fist then moved in his seat uncomfortably. “No worries. I guess I thought since I know this restaurant so well you would trust my suggestions.”
“Well, for starters. I do not like oysters, not everyone loves them. And secondly, I appreciate that you’ve been here before, but I would still like to see what they have to offer and would love some suggestions from you.”
With a single head nod, he looked around the place without giving me any suggestions. I went back to reading the menu.
The waitress came back with our drinks. “Your appetizers will be out shortly. Are we ready to order?”
Alex looked at me. “Would you like to order first?”
“I’ll have the New York strip with the au poivre with courvoisier cream, medium well, please.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Yes, I’ll have the veal tomahawk chop.”
Thank God I didn’t let him order for me.
“Sides for the table?”
Alex looked at me. “Would you like a side? The lobster mac and cheese is really good.”
“That sounds good.”
“We’ll take that and the grilled asparagus.”
With another grin, the waiter said, “Great, I’ll get this in for you.”
Once she walked away, things felt different at the table. Alex seemed bothered that I hadn’t let him pick my food.
“So, why did you and the chef here break up?” I asked, setting my napkin over my lap.
He moved his drink to a different spot on the table. “We grew apart. She was making a name for herself here in Boston with her cooking, I was working long hours at the museum. We never found the time to be together. Plus, we didn’t have a lot in common.”
I nodded and took a drink of my Dirty Goose.
“Do you often drink vodka?”
Blinking a few times at his abrupt question, I cleared my throat. “Um…no.”
“Do you like wine?”
I let out a small laugh. “Honestly, if it was up to me, I’d just have a beer.”
“A beer? Mmm.”
Nodding, it was my turn to move around in my seat. I suddenly felt like I had done something very wrong. I hated to admit it, but Wes was right, Alex was not the type of guy I wanted to date. We had nothing in common. Nothing.
“What else do you do in your spare time when you’re not listening to jazz?”
He lit up like a Christmas tree. “Puzzles.”
I leaned forward. “What kind of puzzles?”
Frowning, he replied, “Jigsaw, what other kind are there?”
Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. There are logic puzzles, Sudoku, math puzzles because you know you’re into math. Brain teasers.”
He stared at me like I had lost my mind.
“Just jigsaw puzzles.”
What had we talked about yesterday that had me so enthralled with this guy?
“Flowers, we both love flowers.” I wasn’t sure why I had said that out loud.
Alex smiled. “My father has a beautiful garden at his house. My mom is more into vegetables, Dad does flowers and trees. I think it’s interesting that you said your favorite flower was magnolia.”
“Really?” I asked as I rested my chin on fist. “Why is that?”
“Their symbolism is nobility, dignity, and love of nature. You mentioned earlier you loved to hike and run. Did you know that the magnolia tree was named after a French botanist, Pierre Magnolia, in the 1600s.”
I pressed my lips together in a tight line and shook my head. I had a feeling I was about to get a history lesson on the magnolia tree.
“Yes, the tree has more than eighty varieties.”
“Interesting. So you do know a lot about flowers.”
He laughed. “No, I looked it up after you said it was your favorite flower. I couldn’t find any when I went to the florist.”
“That’s very sweet of you.”
We fell into another lapse of silence until the soup and oysters came out.
By the time we had finished our dinner, neither of us could think of a single thing to say to each other. Clearly, we had used up all our conversation yesterday. We simply smiled when either of us looked at the other.
The check came and I offered to split it, which Alex declined. When we walked outside of the restaurant, it was clear that there wasn’t going to be another date. He knew it and I knew it.
The short ride back to my place was silent as well. So quiet that I was positive I could hear both of our hearts beating.
The driver pulled up to my building and Alex got out of the car. This time he reached his hand in and helped me out. A little too late, buddy.
“Thank you, Alex for the wonderful dinner. I had a nice time.”
He grinned then shook my hand. He actually shook my damn hand.
“Had a lovely time, Clare. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Maybe, you never know.”
Alex turned and slipped into the car so fast I thought he was going to hurt himself.