Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
I really don’t know Tom at all. We’ve texted a few times since he gave me his number, but it was all about arranging this date. We could have nothing in common and nothing to talk about. What if he decides I’m boring, or what if he turns out to be a jerk?
The parking lot is crowded so I pull into a spot next to the street rather than driving around to look for something closer to the entrance. I’m a few minutes early, so after I turn off the ignition I close my eyes and focus on taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly. Being nervous is not going to help things go smoothly; quite the opposite, I imagine.
I’m on my third inhale when a tap on my window makes me jump. Tom is standing right beside my door, smiling in at me. “I thought that was you,” he says when I step out. “I got the spot right next to yours. Busy place.” His head swivels around, taking in the mostly full lot.
“It sure is. I hope we can get a table.”
“I made a reservation.” The way he says this makes it sound like I’m silly to think we could get in without one. His smile is friendly, though, so I shrug off the comment. “Have you been here before?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, it’s my first time.” The restaurant is on Four Points Island, but Tom was the one to suggest it, even though he lives inland, near the restaurant where he works.
“Me too. It has great reviews.”
He’s wearing a white button-down and dark blue chinos. His hair looks freshly cut and there’s a pleasant scent of spicy cologne surrounding him.
Inside, he gives his name to the hostess and we’re immediately shown to a table by the window. Before he takes his own seat, Tom stands behind my chair and pushes it in for me as I sit.
“Thank you. Your reservation worked wonders. It looks like we have one of the best seats in the house.” Through the window we have an unobstructed view of the ocean, and in the distance, one of the island’s scenic namesake points.
“It’s because I work in the industry.”
“Really?”
“No.” Tom laughs. “I just got lucky.” His smiling eyes go a bit more serious and he punctuates his words with a speculative look that dips downward toward my chest.
Our waiter arrives to introduce himself and take our drink orders. When I ask for an iced tea, Tom urges me to get a mixed drink. I’m tempted because the alcohol could soothe my nerves, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea, so I hold firm.
“Suit yourself,” he says amiably.
Both of us are quiet for a few minutes as we look over the menu. As if reading my mind, he says, “Don’t worry about the prices. Get whatever you like.”
Despite his offer, I avoid the lobster and crab, and order a local fish entree when the waiter returns. Tom chooses a fried seafood platter and makes a few special requests for the salad that comes with it.
Then, we’re alone again.
After taking a large swallow of his beer, he looks across at me. “So, you said you live here on the island?”
“All my life.”
“How do you like it?”
I reach into the bread basket for a roll, more for something to do than from hunger. “I like it okay. Living so close to the beach is great. The summer crowds, not so much.”
“I’ll bet.”
We both glance out toward the beach, where some people are still playing in the surf and others are settling in to watch the approaching sunset. It’s not quite the high season yet, but things are gradually getting busier and more crowded on the island.
Just as the silence starts to grow uncomfortable, Tom asks me about my job, and from there he leads the conversation smoothly through various topics, asking questions about my life and sharing stories about his own.
We talk throughout dinner and I gradually become more comfortable. I find out that he has an older sister too, but while I want Lacy to be less involved in my business, Tom wishes he saw more of his sibling, who lives on the other side of the state and has a growing family.
He talks me into dessert, which we share, and when the bill comes, I offer to pay but he won’t hear of it.
“I’m the one who asked you out. I’m taking care of it.”
I think I’d like to go out with him again. It’s too early to say if he could become my someone special, but there’s potential. Seeing him again might be even better because I won’t be so nervous next time.
Outside, the night is still comfortably warm. “Want to take a walk?” Tom asks.
“Sure, that sounds nice.”
There’s a paved path between the restaurant and the beach that continues along the coast in both directions. It’s a bike and pedestrian trail but is mostly empty now, after dark.