I wasn’t even half-finished with my glass of wine when D appeared, plopping down in the bar stool beside me.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said.
He looked more handsome than I recalled the night before. He was dressed in a collared, button down shirt, jeans, and Chucks…I love Chucks.
“I thought about not coming,” I said. “But here I am.”
He told the bartender we were there for dinner, and she found our waitress—a beautiful woman who had a name fit for a mermaid—who lead us to a table nearby.
We got our waters, and he ordered a bottle of wine for us, The Prisoner, which impressed our waitress.
She returned with the bottle of wine, a decanter, and no menus.
“So, you all are doing ‘The Experience’?” she asked.
“I saw what Chef has started preparing you guys…looks amazing,” she said.
I had no idea what “The Experience” meant, and I suppose I had a look of confusion on my face leading D to explain.
“After you left last night, I found the chef and asked him if he’d be willing to make us something special,” he said. “So, I’m really glad you showed up!”
I was flattered. As a self-proclaimed foodie, I was excited about the meal ahead, but even more excited that a man I didn’t even know would go to such lengths to impress me.
The meal that followed was heaven—5 courses of some of the best food I’ve ever had. The conversation we had was also stimulating; he was easy to talk to, and I found we had plenty in common.
He was open about his past, a divorce, and a daughter who was the light of his life. He asked me if I was bothered by the divorce and his daughter.
Truthfully, I’d never dated someone who was divorced or who had a child, but neither of those things bothered me. He had split custody of his child and maintained a platonic relationship with his ex; both I found respectable.
When we finished stuffing ourselves with dessert, we polished off our second bottle of wine. On that Monday night, the restaurant’s crowd was dwindling to just us.
With only the restaurant manager around to see, he took my hand and asked me if I wanted to dance. I did, despite having no clue what I was doing.
We stayed, dancing and talking, stepping outside into the cold a few times, so he could smoke.
And just then, he kissed me.
It was sweet; a seal on one perfect date.
I drove home at 3 am, high from potential. He was certain a second date was in order.
TO BE CONTINUED…