Wrong Place, Right Time(108)

Cool air and the smell of stale beer hit me first. I might be a little overdressed tonight, but my complexion is flawless for once, and for the first time in a long while I’m actually wearing nail polish and a bra-and-panty set that match. I hope this guy appreciates all my efforts, because tomorrow it’s all coming off and I’m going back to being a geek mom in jeans and sneakers, with cotton polka-dot underwear and a racer-back sports bra. Tonight, though? Watch out. I’m a vixen with all the fixin’s.

As a special treat, I decide right then and there to take the kids for a picnic in the park tomorrow. They’ve been really patient with me, and they haven’t complained one bit about not having me with them two nights in a row. That’s a big change for them, and with Miles and his new girlfriend on the scene I should keep my children’s lives as consistent as possible. This has been my selfish weekend, but tomorrow it will be all about them.

My mind is now clear of any guilt, and I am ready to partay. I scan the backs of the people sitting on stools around the bartop, hoping that the man with the blue shirt will be there so I won’t have to stand here looking all alone for too long.

At first, I don’t see him. But then, in the shadows of the tavern’s back corner, I catch a hint of blue. I think he’s there, with a mug of beer in his hand. He’s staring at me like he knows me. And he’s really tall. Freakishly so.

My heart skips one beat, and then another. I begin to tremble as my eyes take in the details of the man in the blue shirt. I whisper to myself when it becomes apparent that my night is about to go right in the terlet. Oh my god. This can’t be happening to me right now! It’s Dev, and he’s here to witness my shame.

And then an even more awful thought: Is he my date?

He can’t be. He was sitting right there next to me at the computer when I clicked on his profile. I saw his picture, and I saw the picture of the man I’m here to meet, and it was most definitely not Dev’s.

I take a moment to let the awful sink in. We’re going to have our first dates in the same place, with each other as witnesses. What a disaster! When he asked me where I was going I should’ve just told him! Why did I decide that flirting and playing hard to get were a good idea?

Destiny must really have it in for me. It’s the only explanation for what’s happening here. There’re over a thousand bars in this town, and he could’ve chosen any one of them, but he’s here! In my bar! Dammit!

I recognize the expression on his face as the one that’s probably reflected on mine. He’s confused, but then it’s as if he’s seeing something funny.

I’m so embarrassed. He’s laughing at me! He’s probably noticed that I’m wearing the same dress that I wore last night. What does that say about me? Probably nothing good. He’s wearing a different shirt. Maybe he has on the same pants, but this shirt is definitely blue and the one he wore last night was yellow.

My eyes scan the crowd again. There’s another guy wearing a blue shirt here, but he’s got to be in his seventies. I don’t think it’s legal to Photoshop your picture that much.

Dev makes his way around the bar. I meet him halfway. He speaks first, saving me the trouble of having to come up with something charming and witty, a feat I’m completely incapable of accomplishing at this point.

“I guess I know where you’re meeting your date now.”

My smile probably looks more like a grimace than anything else. Humiliation level: Eight out of ten. “I guess you do. Seems like we have the same taste in bars.”

He nods and looks around, over my shoulder and then out to the sides.

I check my watch. I’m exactly on time. “So, your date’s not here yet either?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. It’s hard to say for sure, because I never saw her picture.”

I shake my head at him. “Why didn’t you look? How are you going to find her if you don’t know what she looks like?”

He shrugs. “I just figured she’d find me.”

I nod, feeling awkward but glad for the conversation. Silence would be worse. “I guess that’s a good strategy. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“Plus, it takes all the pressure off. She can look at me and decide without confronting me whether she actually wants to talk to me or not.”

“That’s very considerate of you.” I look more closely at him, narrowing my eyes a little bit. He doesn’t seem at all worried about being stood up. “How long are you planning on hanging around here to see if she shows up?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. A half hour?”