remind him that my secret admirer's name started with the letter J.
I left the office on time and headed home, walking as briskly as possible after I got off the last train. Jack was supposed to send a cab to my house to pick me up when it was time. I just needed to pick out something cute and casual to wear and I'd be all set to meet him.
After grabbing my favorite pair of jeans from the closet, I picked out a low-cut blouse. Normally, I would I have sought to be a little more conservative than that, but it was comfortable, and Jack had insisted that I be comfortable. Plus, there was nothing wrong with showing some cleavage. I had the boobs, so why not enjoy 'em?
I tidied up my hair/touched up my make-up and then sent Jack a text that said I was ready. Ten minutes after that, I headed downstairs and hopped in the cab that was there waiting for me. It was just as he promised.
The driver was very friendly, so friendly that he probably would have told me exactly where we were headed had I asked. I wanted a surprise, however, so I kept my mouth shut. I just wouldn't know where we were going until we got there.
Excitement bloomed inside of me, every passing block only making it worse. I was giddy as hell—this wasn't like a date I was used to.
The destination turned out to be a casual bar and grill sort of restaurant. Being new to the city, I had never been to it. The line in front of the building was a good sign, however. Jack was standing right in front of the crowd, his hair perfectly messy, his jeans perfectly tight. He opened the cab door for me.
"Effie! So nice of you to join me! You look terrific."
"Couldn't you have sent a limo?" I asked jokingly, instinctively deflecting his compliment and putting the attention on something less serious. I wasn't ready to start blushing.
"Next time," he said.
"Jack!" I complained, knowing that he probably wasn't kidding. He extended his arm and I accepted it, emerging into the warm night air.
Jack handed some cash to the driver and then led me inside, cutting through the rows of people waiting to get in. The interior was pretty much what I would have expected. There was a stage for live music and an expansive bar. Jack had a table for us near the stage, one that seemed exclusive, even if it wasn't. I couldn't tell if he was privileged here, or if he just made the proper reservations.
We started with a couple of drinks—he got a Manhattan again; I got a gin and tonic—and with their arrival came his inquisition.
"Effie, I want to know about you. Why are you here? Why are you giving me a chance? I'm sure tons of guys bother you all the time." It was the first round of drinks, so I couldn't blame it on the alcohol—yet.
I was taken aback by his forwardness, but I liked that he was being blunt. It blew my mind that he was asking me about being hit on, because I wanted to ask the same of him. He was the music star while I was just nothing. Maybe it was just him manipulating me, but even if it was, I liked it. It leveled the playing field entirely by making us both equal.
No lie emerged from my lips, even though I felt that his question was a little unjustified this early on. I was as honest as possible with him, withholding no details, keeping no secrets. When I mentioned my history with Timothy, he laughed.
"I know people like that," he said. "You made the right decision. It might have been okay for a year, but then you'd start realizing what you missed out on." Despite his preaching to the choir, I really appreciated his sympathy. It felt warm and genuine, even if it was redundant.
"I didn't even get that far. I just didn't want to do it." I sipped my drink, thankful that it was strong in that moment. Some of these memories were heavy to say the least, so it helped me keep moving forward.
"Well, it sounds like you got out of it okay. That's always a positive. Do you like it here?"
"I guess so," I said. "It hasn't been that long."
"Sure. Right." He took a big gulp of his drink and then moved to a sip of water. "I do