Chapter One
Liz
Another Saturday night, another foray into the dating world. But this time, I’d had help, and not from my well-meaning—
but not always successful—wing-woman. This time, I’d had help from Scintilla.
The programmer I’d been chatting with via Spark, code name “CMDiver,” worked at another start-up company in the area. I stood outside the restaurant he’d picked out for us—a high-end sushi place in a trendy part of San Francisco. Couples and small groups of friends walked briskly past on the sidewalk, and traffic was stop-and-start going past. I smelled car exhaust and fried foods and a mixture of faint perfumes and colognes. Another busy night in the city.
A man approached, and I wondered if it would be CMDiver. He had dark brown eyes and light brown hair. His skin was tanned, and he had a nice build, too. Muscular but without being showy. He didn’t have as nice of a body as Jamie’s—he was a little too broad in the shoulders for my taste—but he was a good-looking guy.
He stopped in front of me. “Hi,” he said. “Um, this is awkward but are you Liz, um, 94941?”
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “You’re right, we should have exchanged our names and what we look like, huh?”
He smiled in relief. “Exactly. Well, hi. I’m Paul.”
“Liz.”
We shook hands. His skin was cold, and it made me think about his Scintilla name. His bio on Scintilla had said he was into diving.
“Should we go inside?” I asked.
“Yes, let’s. I made a reservation.”
“Is it under CMDiver?” I teased.
He gave me a strange look. “No, it’s under my real name.”
“Paul,” I said, trying it out in my mouth. A sturdy, dependable name. This was a name that probably wouldn’t be taking off for the east coast without warning. Or if this name had to leave town for any reason, this name would check in with me, first.
Solid Paul, I thought.
The host brought us to a table, rattled off the specials in the most engaging way possible, and then left us alone.
“You, uh, you do like sushi, don’t you?” Paul asked.
“Love it.”
“Okay, good, because if you don’t, they have other things here, too.”
I wanted to laugh and tell him I wasn’t a little kid, that I could eat all kinds of things. But the poor guy seemed so nervous, I didn’t want to freak him out. “I’ll eat pretty much any kind of food,” I said.
“Me, too. I’m not a foodie or anything, but I like a good meal.”
Already we had something in common. As he studied the menu, I studied him. There was a light-colored mole on the left side of his jaw. He had long eye lashes—the kind that made women jealous. They were certainly longer than mine ever got even when I applied several layers of mascara. His brown eyes were a simple, deep brown, and they had a sort of sad look to them. Not because of his expression, but because of the way his eyebrows pulled down, I figured.
Like I’d noticed before, he had a nice body. His hands looked strong and capable, and those broad shoulders looked like they were packed with muscle. His appearance didn’t make me immediately want to jump into bed with him, but my physical chemistry with Jamie had been an anomaly. Most normal relationships didn’t start out with people being uncontrollable around each other. This was a civil date between two civil people, and it would proceed as it should—with civility.
The décor in the restaurant was understated, muted grays and blacks, with aqua-blue highlights. I felt like I was inside a submarine. It was nearly as quiet, with music so faint I wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for the sudden lapse in our conversation.
A waiter came. I ordered a roll of saba and a California roll. Paul ordered unagi and what I thought was octopus, but I couldn’t be sure because he was using the Japanese word for it. I thought of asking, but I didn’t want to seem nosy or ignorant. We each ordered Sapporos.
After we ordered, Paul looked at me earnestly. “So, Liz, tell me about yourself.”
I could feel myself blushing already. He was staring at me with such scrutiny. “Well, I work for a gaming company as a project manager.”
“Fascinating,” he said.
Not really, I wanted to argue, but I didn’t.
“How’d you come into a job like that?” he asked.
“I don’t know, really. I just wanted to be in California, more than anything. I’m highly organized, too, and with my business degree and some experience working my way up the ranks of another gaming company in an internship, I sort of fell into it.”
“That’s really cool,” he said. “I’m a transplant to California, too. Where’d you move from?”
“I moved out here from the Midwest.”
“Really? Me, too. Ohio.”
“Indiana. What did you think when you first moved out here?”
He laughed. “It’s so different. In a great way—I love it out here. But very different.”
“Same here,” I said, laughing a little, too. “It’s probably the biggest memory of my adult life. I moved out here and it was like my whole world opened up.”
The waiter returned with our bottled beers, which he placed in front of us next to two empty pint glasses. He then filled each glass for us, then stepped away with the empty bottles.
“Cheers,” Paul said, clinking his glass to mine. “What do you like to do when you’re not working?”
“Oh, I work in the garden, and paint. I also don’t mind hanging out in front of the television with some good pizza. I’m not antisocial or anything, but sometimes I just like to be quiet and alone.”
“I get that,” he said.
“How about you?” I asked. “Your Scintilla profile said that you’re into diving. What kind of diving? Like, high dives, or…?”
He grinned. “In the ocean. I dive for abalone, sometimes, but mostly I just like going down there and being quiet.”
I stifled a shudder. The thought of the endless ocean, all that water, freaked me the hell out.
“You’re not so into the idea?” he said.
Guy was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for. “No, not at all,” I said. “Near-drowning accident when I was a kid. You can’t get me near the water.”
“Oh, we can work on that,” he said. “It’s just a matter of mind over body. You have to—“
I shook my head. “Sorry, not interested.”
“But it’s so great down there.”
I pursed my lips. I’d already said my piece, and if he was going to pressure me, I’d have to cut this date short. He seemed to realize I was serious, so he nodded and held his hands up to show he meant no harm.
“Hey, that’s cool,” he said. “Different interests, no worries. What kind of shows do you like to watch?”
We talked about television shows and books, and in those areas, we had a lot in common. Paul also liked dogs, and he’d had a German Shephard for almost a decade. He’d actually been thinking about getting a second dog to keep the first one company during his long hours at work.
“If you could get any kind of dog, what kind would you get?” I asked him.
He thought for a second. “I’d get a dog from the shelter. Whatever they had that needed a home. I’m partial to large dogs, honestly, but I’d just want a friend to hang out with, and someone to keep Rex company.”
My heart melted a little at that.
Still, as I looked at him, I waited for a spark of attraction or lust. Maybe we just needed to get to know each other better. The waiter brought our sushi. The food was amazing.
“This is the freshest-tasting saba I’ve ever had,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, I love this place,” Paul said.
While we ate, we chatted more. We talked a little more about what it was like coming to California from another state, because Paul was also from the Midwest.
“I came here for school because I thought the Silicon Valley was the place to be,” he said. “All the frontier notion of business was so romantic to me. But man, you should’ve seen me when I got here. I knew nothing about this place.”
“Sometimes I feel like I still don’t know anything about California,” I said. “I’m like the most ignorant transplant.”
Paul adopted a formal tone. “Trust the quality of what you know, not the quantity.”
“Hey!” I said. “That’s from one of my favorite movies.”
“Karate Kid,” he said. “No way, you, too?”
“Hey, what’s not to love. A good underdog sports movie always makes me happy.”
He grinned. “I think we’re going to get along great, Liz.”
After dinner, we walked around a little, digesting, and talking more. I still wasn’t feeling like I wanted to jump his bones, but that was okay. Finally, I pulled out my phone. It was close to ten-thirty. “I should probably get going,” I said.
“Did you drive here?” Paul asked.
“No, I took an Uber.”
“I could give you a ride home, if it’s not too presumptuous,” Paul said. “If your Scintilla name is any indication, you live in Mill Valley, right? I’m in Corte Madera, so you’re on my way.”
I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, that would be nice, thanks.”
The ride to my place was filled with idle chitchat. His car smelled briny, like he parked it at the beach often. I half-expected to find sand in my seat, but it was surprisingly tidy. We pulled up in front of my house.
Paul’s voice was awed. “That’s a pretty big place, and wow, in a great location. Do you mind telling me how much you pay for rent?”
“I actually don’t rent,” I said. “It’s mine.”
He raised his eyebrows and whistled.
I could tell he was dying to know how I could’ve afforded to buy a house in Mill Valley, but he was too polite to ask. Instead of leaving him hanging, I explained, “No, I can’t afford it on a project manager’s salary. My parents’ are finance people, and I get a trust fund salary.”
“Whoa. Why do you work, then? I mean, the hours at a start-up are never forgiving.”
I shrugged. “It’s fun, and I like the routine. It gives me a sense of purpose, being a part of something bigger than myself.”
He nodded. “That makes sense.”
I moved to get out of the car. “Thank you for the date,” I said.
“Liz,” he said, “I’ll walk you up.”
“Sure. But I have an early morning tomorrow, so I can’t invite you in for a nightcap.” Code for: nope, I’m not putting out tonight.
“Yeah, I couldn’t stay, anyway,” he said.
The night air was chilly, and I held my pea coat closed as I walked up the little path through my front yard, Paul at my side.
“I had a great time, and if I’m not misreading things, you enjoyed yourself, too,” Paul said.
“That’s exactly right,” I said. And it was the truth—I had enjoyed myself. Paul was fun to talk to, and he seemed like a really smart, kind person.
“You wanna do this again sometime soon?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said with a smile.
He leaned forward and gave me a swift kiss on the corner of my mouth. It was the most fleeting of kisses, and his lips were soft. Up close, he smelled a little like fish. He stepped back. “Thanks again for coming out with me, Liz.”
“My pleasure.” I opened my door and stepped inside, and he turned around and went back to his car.
That kiss had done absolutely nothing for me, but I would remain hopeful.