I’D MET BRAN early for our workout, then showered and left him to go on ahead to the coffee shop.
I didn’t want to arrive with either Bran or Carmen, since I was friends with both, and didn’t want it to seem like I was taking sides. Plus, I was the one pushing them to give this a second try. If it went bust, I needed to be able to hightail it outta there.
“Morning, Cynthia,” I called as I grabbed my coffee. “I’m meeting some friends, so I’m gonna grab the table in the back, okay?”
“Sure thing, Lila, let us know if you need anything,” Cynthia replied as she continued stocking books on her shelves.
I was checking my emails on my phone when Carmen came up and pulled out the chair next to me and said, “Did I beat him? I wanted to beat him. I need to be sitting down and mentally prepared when he walks in. I’ve been trying to plan out what I want to say and didn’t get any sleep last night.”
I looked up to see a frazzled-looking Carmen.
Carmen never looked frazzled. She was chic and put together, which usually made me what to kill her, just a little bit, but right then? She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week and had been wearing the same clothes for just as long.
“Are you okay?” I asked, honestly worried. “If you don’t want to do this, you can head out and I’ll let Bran know.”
Carmen shook her head, her eyes wide.
“Uh-uh. No. I can’t go through this again. I need to get it over with.”
“Okay, well, do you want me to get you some water or something? Maybe tea?” I asked, thinking the last thing she needed was coffee.
Before she could reply, Carmen looked up and said, “Oh, God, he’s here,” then slid down in her chair.
I started at her in shock, before turning to watch Bran approach.
He was in his suit and ready for business, looking completely at ease and unfazed, unlike Carmen, who was now laying on the table shielding her head with her arms like a toddler.
What in the world?
“Carmen,” I whisper shouted as I stood to greet Bran. “Pull yourself together.”
“Hello again,” Bran said with a grin, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek, before turning his attention to Carmen and adding, “Nice to see you, Carmen.”
His voice was low and rich, and Carmen’s name slid out of his mouth like silk.
She looked up, face strained, and replied nervously, “Uh, hi, Bran.”
“Why don’t you have a seat. Can I get either of you anything?” I asked.
Carmen shook her head frantically, and I knew she didn’t want me to leave them alone.
“I’m okay right now,” Bran replied.
I took my seat and Carmen visibly relaxed.
Once we were all sitting, I looked to Carmen, who was watching Bran nervously and biting her thumb nail.
“So, Carmen, didn’t you want to say something to Bran about your date?” I asked, trying to be helpful by prompting her, but rather than taking the assist, she looked at me like I kicked her dog. “Okay, what about you, Bran?”
“Yeah, actually, I do have something to say,” Bran replied easily, and I could tell he was centered and feeling better after our talk.
And, he let it all out. He told Carmen a bit about his childhood and addictions, although not all of it . . . I was sure that would come later, if they ended up actually starting a relationship. He also told her how nervous he’d been for their date, and why he thought things went terribly wrong.
I watched Carmen as he spoke, and it was like watching a caterpillar morph into a butterfly. With each of Bran’s confessions, she sat up a little taller, the tension eased from her shoulders, and she became the Carmen I was used to.
By the end of his story, her hand was covering his on the table, and she was captivated by his every word.
“Wow, you’re so amazing,” Carmen said once he finished. “What you’ve done with your life, the changes that you made . . . not a lot of people would have been able to do that.”
Bran blushed and shook his head, and the way they were looking at each other almost made me feel like a voyeur.
“I have to be honest, I was totally freaked out during our date as well,” she admitted. “I worked myself into a frenzy worrying about it for days . . . I tend to do that, get so anxious over something that it effects my sleep, my work, everything . . . I liked you so much, and worried that I’d never measure up to the type of woman that I thought you deserved. So, I bungled the entire date . . . I’m sorry.”
“Sounds like we bungled it together,” Bran said kindly, then turned his hand under hers so that he was holding on and asked, “Liked . . . as in past tense?”
I squirmed, starting to feel a little uncomfortable.
His tone was low, intimate, and his thumb was stroking her hand softly, sensually.
I cleared my throat, but they were too caught up in each other to notice.
“No, not past tense,” Carmen said with a shy smile. “I still like you. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Can I make you dinner tonight?” Bran asked.
“I’d like that,” she replied, beaming.
“Okay, well, I have to get going and I think you guys are good here, so . . .”
I stood up, grabbed my coffee and waited for their response.
“Bye,” Bran said.
“Thanks, Lila, I’ll call you later,” Carmen added, but neither could tear their eyes off of the other.
Well, all righty then, mission success.