meet Eric in person and a part of me was scared. It’s only dinner. It’s not like the guy is asking you to go away for the weekend. Live a little, Shelly. Take some chances. He could be the one. It’s just one dinner. What could it hurt?
We made plans to meet at Bella’s, my favorite Italian restaurant, the next night.
I called Jackie as soon as I got off the phone with Eric.
‘Tell me everything,’ she said. ‘Beginning with hello.’
‘He’s amazing, Jack. Sensitive, kind and caring. He told me that his first wife cheated on him. And how devastated and broken he was.’
‘Wow,’ Jackie said.
‘Wow is right. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man so open and honest. His voice cracked and he sounded as if he were about to cry when he talked about his ex-wife cheating on him. I’m not used to sensitive men.’
‘He sounds amazing,’ Jackie said.
‘Yeah, kind of scary.’
‘Don’t be scared,’ Jackie said. ‘Just be aware. You deserve to be happy. It sounds like you guys have been through the same thing. Maybe Eric’s right. Maybe you were supposed to find each other. Maybe this will turn out to be your happily ever after.’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But he almost seems too good to be true.’
‘That’s why meeting him in person will be a good thing. You’ll get to see him face to face. Look, it’s just dinner. Relax. Try to enjoy it. I’ll call at eight to make sure you don’t need rescuing.’
‘You won’t forget?’
‘No. I’ll set the alarm on my phone. Promise.’
Before I went to bed I went through my closet looking for something to wear on my date. I hadn’t bought new clothes in forever. Most of the clothes in my closet were AM/BD – After Marriage/Before Divorce. I’d planned on donating them to a second-hand shop, but just hadn’t done it yet.
I settled on a denim dress that was a bit big, but I added a belt to gather the excess material. I hung it on my closet door. I had an afternoon appointment to show a property to a couple who wanted to downsize, but I’d have enough time to shower and change clothes before meeting Eric for dinner. I couldn’t wait!
As soon as I arrived at the office the next morning, I found out my client needed to move back the showing by two hours. I looked down at the black skirt and white blouse I was wearing, knowing I’d no longer have time to shower and change before meeting Eric. It wasn’t exactly the look I was going for, but it’d have to do. The listing agent called to tell me the buyers had accepted the Randalls’ offer. I called the Randalls right away to deliver the good news. Maybe this was a sign of more good things to come.
The day dragged on. I caught myself checking the clock every thirty minutes. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this excited and nervous.
After showing my clients the property, I headed to the restaurant and slid into the restroom to freshen up. I pulled out my hair clip and bent over, running my fingers through my long chestnut strands. When I stood, my hair fell across my back and I brought the sides forward so they fell softly over my shoulders.
I stared into the mirror and touched up my smoky eye shadow. I used to hate my amber eyes, wishing instead for green or blue. But I’d grown quite fond of them over the years. It occurred to me that I looked more and more like my mother with time. She, too, had golden eyes and red-brown hair with orange undertones. I never knew my father. Mom and him never married. He died in a motorcycle accident before I was born. I asked Mom about him a time or two, but she never wanted to talk about him.
I pulled the lip gloss wand out of my purse and slid it over my lips, then mashed them together. This is as good as you’re going to look, Shelly!
My heart pounded as I walked into the restaurant lobby. I felt as if the photos of famous Italian composers hanging on the wooden paneled walls were staring at me. ‘O Sole Mio’ played softly in the background. I looked around, wondering if the guy in the black suit with the leather satchel checking in with the maître d’ was Eric. He turned around and smiled. ‘Shelly?’
He was even more handsome in person – tall with sandy blonde hair and bluish-steel eyes, the color of storm clouds right before lightning strikes.
I nodded and he walked over. ‘Hi, Eric.’
He smiled. ‘Finally, we meet in person. Your online profile photo doesn’t do you justice,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’ My insides tingled. I felt excited and scared at the same time. I wanted to tell him the same, but I didn’t want him to think I was only saying it because he did.
The maître d’ escorted us to our table, tucked in the back corner of the dimly lit dining room and Eric pulled out the chair for me. Good manners, a definite plus!
Eric sat down, placing his satchel next to his chair, and ordered a bottle of wine. Takes control of the situation. A man who knows what he wants.
‘I can’t believe we’re finally sitting across from one another,’ he said. ‘I’ve thought about this moment since our first text.’
I smiled. ‘So how was the drive here?’
‘Not bad. Two hours went fast.’
My pulse slowed a bit. I was in a familiar place and I knew that if things went south, I’d be rescued in about an hour when Jackie called. Eric opened his menu and I did the same. I glanced down at a familiar list of entrees. I always plan to try something new when I eat at Bella’s, but it seems I always fall back on my favorite – chicken piccata.
I looked up from the menu to find Eric staring at me. ‘You look beautiful tonight.’
My cheeks grew warm as I felt the dopamine rush of a new romance. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you know what you want?’ Eric asked.
‘Everything here is fabulous, but I’m going with the chicken piccata. How about you?’
‘I was thinking about trying the pork sofrito. It sounds good.’
‘It is good.’
The waiter returned with the bottle of Pinot Grigio Eric had ordered and took our order.
‘We’ll have the bruschetta pomodoro and beet salads to start,’ Eric said. ‘My lovely date will have chicken piccata and I will have the pork sofrito.’
We settled into easy conversation and little by little my pulse slowed.
After enjoying the bruschetta pomodoro, the waiter served our beet salads.
‘I think this is the best beet salad I’ve ever had,’ Eric said.
I picked up my wine glass. ‘It’s delicious but not as good as my grandma’s. She made the best.’
Eric smiled. ‘Tell me about your family.’
‘There’s actually not that much to tell.’ I sat my wine glass down. ‘I have no siblings and my mother was a single parent.’
Eric’s eyelids closed for a millisecond, as if he was trying to imagine me as a child. ‘So no brothers or sisters? Or dad?’
I nodded. ‘That’s right. Just me, Mom and Grandma. Now they’re gone and it’s just me.’ I blinked, trying to keep the tears I felt coming at bay. I usually didn’t tear up when I talked about my family. Maybe the wine was making me a bit melancholy.
Eric sat back in his seat. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
I retrieved a tissue from my purse and dabbed the corners of my eyes. ‘But