the Mexican restaurant we will meet at.
Reservation is for: 7pm
2178 Wheeler Street
-J
“You sound excited, A.” Dena notices.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. What are the chances that the man I set you up with is the same hottie from the bar? If that’s not kismet, I don’t know what is.”
“Now you’re taking credit for setting me up?”
“Absolutely, girl. You fought me tooth and nail about going on this date. If it wasn’t for me, you probably would’ve never seen hot bar guy again.”
“It’s not a real date though, Dena. This is a favor for Caroline on both of our parts. Which I’m still wondering what kind of connection someone like him has to her.”
“Someone like him?”
“I don’t think a guy like him travels in Caroline’s circles.”
“Well, confidentiality is a huge part of Caroline’s brand, so I have no idea. She won’t even tell me his full legal name, and I didn’t tell her you knew him from the bar. At this point, I’m staying out of it. So if you want more answers, you’re just going to have to ask the man himself.”
I already embarrassed myself once by acting surprised that he’d attended college, so I’m not trying to go there again. It’s not as if all of Caroline’s friends are wealthy. Dena isn’t. It’s really none of my business how he knows her. I’m going to leave it alone.
“So is everything completely over with Troy?”
“Totally, oh, did I mention I think he’s been in my house again?”
“What do you mean? That sounds like a situation.”
“I think he was grabbing the rest of his things when he knew I wouldn’t be home, but he left me a letter.”
“He’s such a creeper.”
“With a banquet hall brochure inside.”
“Okay, now that’s actually really creepy.”
“I’m going to get the locks changed. That’ll solve all of that.”
I just have to remember to call the landlord when he’ll actually be available to pick up the phone. He never listens to voice messages.
“Good idea. So when’s the next date with hot bar guy? Where are ya’ll going? It’s ladies’ choice this time isn’t it?”
“That’s confidential information.”
“Ooh, you’re such a little bitch!” she laughs hysterically.
“Sorry, not sorry. Bye, Dena.”
Mexican restaurants are typically casual, so tonight I’m dressed in a pair of jeans with a purple fitted v-neck t-shirt, a swipe of violet shadow on my eyelids and a pair of white chucks. I throw on my Gucci crossbody bag to elevate the look and a short black puffer jacket. The jeans are tighter than I remember, probably because I’ve been eating everything under the sun since the break-up, so to eliminate any panty lines I decide to wear my jeans sans underwear.
Jason has picked yet another out-of-the-way restaurant with impeccable service and delicious authentic food. A small Mariachi band plays once I enter inside and they follow behind us as we sit at our table in a private section of the restaurant. Jason loves the music and waves his hand to the melody as each member plays their trumpet, guitar and violin.
It’s clear that his surgery was successful, and he’s in less pain than he was before. He looks lighter both on his feet and in spirit. That makes my heart happy, but only because I’m a doctor, of course. Not for any other reason.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says as he leans in to give me a one-armed hug.
Jason towers over me by well over a foot, so when he pulls me in for an embrace, my face meets him mid-chest. It’s a great place for my face to be. He smells like a heady mixture of soap, leather and cinnamon. I reluctantly pull from the embrace first. If I hadn’t, I would have settled into his chest like Mittens when she wants to snuggle with me. That’s how broad and luscious his chest feels. Like a high-end hotel bed.
“Did you like your grand entrance?”
“It was something all right.”
“They’re going to come back and play for us once our food comes to the table.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, that’s part of the ambiance here.”
“I wonder where the other patrons are?”
“I heard this place is way busier on the weekend.”
“Sure, that makes sense. I can tell that your shoulder is better.”
“I can’t put any weight on it and have limited range of motion, but the swelling has gone down significantly since the procedure.”
“I’m glad.”
He stares at me with a goofy grin on his face. “I am too.”
“So, does this place have black bean tacos?” I ask, joking