Behind the counter, the bartender looked pointedly at Ryan. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”
“Yes. I’ll have a gin and tonic,” he said. His voice cracked mid-way through his order and he had to clear his throat. Our moment of contact had affected him, too, it seemed. He kept his focus on the bartender. Nodding towards my glass of wine, he said, “Can you please put her wine on my tab?” He looked back at me contritely. “It’s the least I can do after I hit you with my car. I should thank you for not suing me.” He grinned and I noticed a flash of dimples.
“Well, I wouldn’t have sued you. MS has pretty good disability accidental death and dismemberment insurance,” I said with a facetious smile. “And even if I wanted to go after you, I didn’t have your name.” I shrugged and gave him an innocent smile. “Thank you for my drink.” I was mentally doing a little happy dance. Even though he knew both of our dinner plans had been cancelled, he had ordered a drink to continue talking to me. Score! Thanks for bailing, sis.
He chuckled at my response. “You know, it really is a huge coincidence that you’re here tonight. I was in 36 earlier, and I swear that I saw you in the cafeteria. Were you there today?”
“Um, no that wasn’t me.” Though, a part of me was pleased to know that I had been on his mind. I wondered if he frequently visited 36. Out of the 100+ buildings that made up the MS campus, he just happened to be in the building that I would be moving to for my new position. If he had business meetings there regularly, the thought of bumping into him in the future was a welcome thought, if not a bit distracting.
“Ever since the accident, I’ve been thinking about you, just hoping and wondering if you were okay. I was worried about some post-accident trauma or injury of some sort. When I hit you, I thought I had heard a thump and a crash.”
“You mean, other than my head?” I deadpanned.
His face turned pale and horror-stricken.
“I’m joking!” I laughed. “I’m just playing with you again.” Apparently, he didn’t think my friendly teasing was so funny. “The sound you heard was probably just my laptop.”
“Oh shit, sorry.” His face was full of genuine remorse, his eyes delightfully crinkled around the edges.
“It’s not horrible. It’s still functional, though I did have to tape the battery pack in the back of the machine to keep it in place. You actually did me a favor. I really needed to get a new machine anyways.” I realized I was babbling like an idiot, but couldn’t seem to make myself stop. I did that when I got nervous. I talked. A lot. “My manager had told me that he didn’t have budget to get me a new machine until the end of the fiscal year, but now I have an excuse to get a new one right away. Though come to think of it, my current manager probably won’t get me one now, since I just told him I’m moving to a new job.” Shut up already, Julia!
“God, I’m so sorry. I think I should be the one paying for you to get a new laptop,” he said with self-reproach.
He seemed really upset about all of this. I was starting to feel bad for giving him such a guilty conscience. “Would you please stop saying you’re sorry? Really, there was no harm done,” I said to reassure him one more time. “No skinned knees, nothing.” I almost leaned over to pat his thigh in comfort and stopped myself just in time. Why did I feel the need to console him so much? I remembered feeling this way just before I took off from the scene of the accident.
The bartender brought Ryan his gin and tonic and he took it distractedly, narrowing his eyes and studying my body, moving his eyes up and down. I started to feel more self-conscious under his gaze. I knew he was just looking at me to see if I had any visible bodily injuries, but I couldn’t help thinking that he was actually checking me out at the same time. I noticed his eyes stopped appreciatively in all the right places. He finally chuckled and gave in. “All right, I believe you,” he acquiesced with a satisfied smirk.
We both took another sip of our drinks. There was an awkward silence as I fingered the rim of my wine glass. I finally got up the courage to turn my head and peeked over at him. I sucked in my breath, finding him watching me intently.
Leaning in towards me so I could hear him over the building volume of the busy restaurant, he asked casually, “So, you must’ve gotten to the interview on time, right? Since you said you’re moving to a new job.”
“Yes, I did,” I said, feeling a little stunned that he recalled that detail. “I can’t believe you remembered.” I gave him a shy smile, flattered and a little embarrassed. “This was supposed to be my celebratory drink and dinner tonight, but as you can see, that didn’t quite turn out.”