Thoughts of stabbing Mia in her sleep suddenly come to mind, or maybe worse, burning all of her beloved designer shoes. I should have known she’d push this as far as possible once I mentioned being open to dating.
Zack clears his throat through the phone line. "So....lunch? Please?" Zack asks, interrupting my thoughts of plans to get back at Mia. It’s the please that does me in.
I sigh in feigned defeat. My heart is thumping a gazillion beats a second in excitement at the thought of seeing him.
"Come on up, I'm in 1012." And then drily add, "Unless Mia's already told you that, too." I buzz him in through the lobby and take a quick glance around my room.
I hate her. And yet, I don’t. This is all so confusing to me.
I shoot a quick text to Mia: You’re dead, woman.
Her response is immediate: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
I shake my head at her response, knowing there is no way I’m doing on a lunch date what Mia would. The very idea of being with a man alone makes me blush.
I set down my phone, rush to my bedroom, and throw all my clothes in the bedroom closet, then put all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and wipe off the counter. I run to the bathroom and gasp. I have no make-up on, my unwashed hair is in a scraggly ponytail, and I’m wearing an old ratty t-shirt with yoga pants. I’m a hot mess.
I throw some water on my face and in my hair to smooth out my ponytail, and run back to my closet to find a better shirt. Right as I’m wrestling myself into a light pink tank top, I hear a knock on my door.
***
Zack stands in the hallway, looking just like I'd seen him on Wednesday night. The only difference is he has on a light blue t-shirt under his jacket instead of the grey shirt he'd been wearing. He looks good and my stomach flip-flops.
Why am I suddenly so nervous? I’ve spent the last two nights around this guy and I haven’t once felt like throwing up.
He smiles at me and holds up two large bags of take-out Thai. It smells delicious.
"Come on in," I say and step back into the apartment. My kitchen is immediately to the right when you enter so I simply wave a hand to show him where he can set the food. I wonder briefly what Zack thinks of my place. It’s probably much smaller than his – wherever he lives. Heck, my place is so small he has probably stayed in hotel suites larger than it.
It strikes me how different our lives are. I’m just beginning mine again and it’s simple. He’s at the top of his career, famous, and probably lives in luxury. I’m not sure if this bothers me or not, so I push the thought out of my head and place it in my think-about-later-box.
"So, I'm sorry to ambush you like this today." He doesn’t look sorry at all. He looks incredibly pleased with himself.
“Sure you are.” I deadpan and turn around to grab some plates from the cupboards while Zack carries the food to the kitchen table just past the kitchen. To the left is the living room and as I reach for silverware and some water, I notice him walk over to the bookshelves where all of my favorite family photos sit.
I brace myself for the questions that are sure to come when I join him in the dining area, but he says nothing.
"So, Zack Walters," I begin with a playful smirk as I open up all the food and he joins me at the table. "You show up at my place, unannounced with food you knew was my favorite. All of which is potentially stalking behavior. Which makes me wonder....” I wait until we start eating to finish. “Are all those stories about you that I've heard about from Mia and her gossip magazine collection true?” At the questioning look in his eyes, I continue. “Are you really the playboy they make you out to be?" I’m not sure what I actually had expected his to response to be, but it definitely wasn't the sound of him choking on his food.
"Are you okay!?" I squeal. He chugs his water while his face turns bright red. He nods his head and I can’t contain the laugh that pours out of me. I try to apologize, but I’m laughing too much