I consider it for a moment, just for a fleeting second, what it would be like dating someone so impossibly handsome, someone who seems to be able to see all of the secrets hidden in my soul in just one gaze. I remember his eyes, so incredible and yet, so unsettling. The way his custom designed suit hugged every muscle in his shoulders and strong arms… which brings me back reality and my original thought: why is he interested in me? I’m not a breathtaking beauty, and I certainly didn’t win him over with my charm by freaking out at him about calling me sweetheart.
“I’m not kidding and I’m not calling. At best, this guy just wants a date because he feels bad, at worst, he wants something else. Either way, I don’t have time for these games.”
“Kendra, come on, can’t you get over yourself for one night and go have some fun? How many times in your life do you think you’ll be going on a date with a smokin’ hot CEO? Seriously, what’s the worst that’s going to come out of it?”
“That’s what I don’t want to find out.”
“I’ll tell you what will happen. You might have a good time, or at least a great story of a night I’m sure you’ll remember for the rest of your life. I need you to go, so you can tell me all the amazing details. I mean, aren’t you curious?”
I sigh deeply and run my finger over the balled up napkin in my apron, considering the idea. It would be fun to go out for a night and maybe he is just interested in me for some reason. My research paper! There’s no way I can go out with him, or anyone else for that matter, when I have so much to get done.
“There’s just no way, I’m too busy. Here, why don’t you call him?” I thrust the ratty napkin back into her hand. “I’m sure you two would be a better match.”
Brianna sighs, scrunching her nose into a spiderweb of fine lines, but she holds her tongue. She knows all too well how stubborn I am, it comes with the territory of being my closest friend since high school.
I glance at the clock and am relieved that I have an excuse to get out of this conversation and this diner after this painfully long shift. “It’s time to punch out, I’ve gotta get home and finish my research paper, but let’s get together for a coffee soon, ok?”
“Sure, give me a call… when you’re not too busy,” she says with an edge in her voice. I don’t know why she’s so focused on me going out with this guy. Can’t she just accept that we have different priorities?
“Will do.” I smile at her, ignoring the harshness of her tone.
When I get off the bus and trudge up to my shoebox apartment, I wish with every fiber of my existence that my roommate isn’t home. I’m so tired, and the last thing I need is her endless soap opera of cell phone calls with her long distance boyfriend when I need to concentrate. I open the door and trip over a pair of her leather thigh high boots that she left in the hall, almost eating the floor.
“Jesus! Janelle! Why do you have to leave your shit everywhere? I nearly broke my neck!”
I listen to our fridge hum in response. I’m all alone, after all. Perfect.
I’m finally making some real headway on my paper, after putting in four hours of straight work, I think I can get it finished before bed if I push it. I sink my teeth into the pb&j I’m calling supper and the phone rings.
“Heh-woah?” I try swallowing the sticky peanut butter that’s coating the roof of my mouth.
“Uh, yes, may I speak with Kendra Cole, please?”
I don’t recognize his voice, maybe it’s one of the marketing firms I’ve applied to! I clear my throat and attempt to sound professional. “Yes, this is she.” I cringe. This is she? Why am I talking in third person?
The line is silent. I check the phone. Is this call still connected? The timer is still counting. “Hello?”
“Yes, I’m still here. I apologize if this is a bit unorthodox, but this is Matthew Blackwell. I left you a note at the diner today? I was wearing a gray suit?”
He sounds like he isn’t sure if I’ll remember him from all the other overdressed patrons. “Yes, I remember you. How did you get this number?” I knew there was something strange about him asking me out, now he’s tracking me down?
“Brianna just called me and told me that you forgot the napkin and that I should call you. Is this a bad time?”
I should have thrown out that stupid napkin. Why is she pushing this so hard? Now this is so awkward, I rub the back of my neck and rummage my mind for a polite way to let him know there’s been some kind of mistake.