Chapter Nine
Roman
"Don't wear that."
"What's wrong with it?"
"A polo is too casual. It's a sit-down dinner date, you can't show up to a restaurant at night in one of those," Tiffany said. I hung the shirt back up in the closet.
"Better?" I asked, holding up a button down white shirt.
"Not white. Something colored." I rolled my eyes, putting the shirt back up with the rest and pulling out a light blue one.
"Should I wear a tie, too?" I asked sarcastically.
"It's a date, not a job interview," she snapped from my bed.
"I'm a big boy, Tiffany. I'm pretty sure I know how to get dressed myself."
"First impressions are everything, Roman. She might forgive your shitty personality if you look good," she said. I put the shirt on, buttoned it up. She had chosen the tan slacks I was wearing, too.
"I already don't like her. She sounds shallow."
"I'm trying to help you, Roman."
"Then tell me what I'm walking into tonight. If I'm spending money on this girl, I at least want to know who she is."
"She's cute... Blonde hair, same age as you, average height..."
"That doesn't really narrow down the pool, Tiff. That's about a good forty percent of my graduating class."
"It doesn't matter. What's important is you're going to like her."
"Whatever you say," I said, looking into the mirror and fixing my collar. I had been game for this blind date, but now that tonight was the night and Tiff was still being cagey, I wasn't really feeling it as much. She was so confident that I felt it had to go left somehow.
"Roll your sleeves up. Girls like forearms," she said, standing and walking out of the room. She had come over specifically to help me prep for the date like I was a freshman girl who had been invited to my first prom. All I had needed was something to identify this girl she had set me up with and she could have told me that over text, like a normal person. We were pretty close, but she was way more invested in this date than she should have been.
I grabbed my wallet, slid some shoes on, and came out of the room. Tiff was waiting in the kitchen.
"So?" I said expectantly.
"You look great. Have fun," she said brightly, turning and heading for the front door.
"Wait, wait, wait. How the hell am I supposed to know who she is?"
"Just get a good table and wait. I already told her how to find you. She'll come to you," she said.
For the second time in maybe ten minutes, I regretted ever agreeing to this. If tonight was a disaster, I was never letting her do this for me again. I wasn't desperate enough for this. I knew that it wasn't going to be a prank or whatever where the chick was actually an escort, but Tiff was being too smug about this. I wasn't looking for a fucking wife tonight, just someone to eat with and maybe fuck later if I could.
"Be a gentleman, don't make her pay, and don't make me look bad," she said as she walked to her car.
"You set the bar pretty high, Tiff. I better not be disappointed," I threatened lightly. She smirked and slid into her car, driving away first. At least she hadn't chosen the restaurant. I wasn't cheap, but she was a girl – she didn't pay for dates anyway, what would it matter to her. Tiff's friend had better like Italian. If she was one of those girls who didn't eat carbs or wouldn't eat real food in front of guys, then I wouldn't see her again anyway.
I had called to make reservations the day before. The table was near a window, but still inside. I sat so I was facing the entrance. I didn't know what this girl looked like, but since she was supposed to know, I'd just make myself easy for her to spot. The date was for seven thirty, and it was seven twenty-three. I ordered a beer and waited.
Seven thirty ticked by and my beer was three-quarter ways done. Tiff hadn't given me this girl's number so I had no way to contact her and tell her where I was in case she had gotten here and missed me somehow. I hadn't really seen anyone who I thought would be my date – there were a lot of couples and bigger groups, but I hadn't seen a woman walking in alone.
I thought about calling Tiff to make sure this girl was showing up, but didn't. No, the stakes weren't that fucking high. It wouldn't matter if she didn't end up showing. I had nothing riding on this. I wasn't even that hungry. If she wasn't here by the time I finished my beer, I'd just go home.
A blonde in a blue-green dress caught my eye as she walked in. I didn't know who my date even was, so it didn't matter that I was checking her out. The first thing I noticed was she was alone. The next thing was she was fucking stunning. From across the room, under the dim lights scattered across the ceiling, she was beautiful. Her hair was shiny and long, the curls tumbling over her shoulders and chest.
That color was good on her, I thought absently. She was scanning the crowd of patrons, looking for someone. She glanced past me, and I would have choked if I was taking a drink of my beer. It had to be a good twenty feet between us but I knew that face anywhere. Softly defined cheekbones and a delicate, feminine face. Bright, round green eyes and pink, pert lips.
Veronica Kanter.
I bolted to my feet. Confusion, then this fierce drive to go to her overcame me. It was Veronica, here, alone. I started towards her, weaving around the tables to where she stood, still scanning the tables. Yup, it was definitely her. Right height, right shape, right face. Why the hell was she here? No, wait a minute, what the hell was I doing?
I watched her as she finally noticed me. We locked eyes, and her lips parted. She stood still as I walked up to her. It was too late to act like I hadn't seen her now. I didn't want to do that, anyway. I wanted to talk to her, but it had been a year and I was here because I was supposed to be on a date with another woman. I hadn't thought about this moment that much, but I hated that I had nothing to say to her. This was Veronica, she wasn't a stranger.
"Roman," she said first as I approached.
"Ronnie. Hey," I said.
"Hi," she said, smiling a little. That was good. Smiles were always good.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I could ask you the same thing. I didn't know you were back in town."
"Hasn't been that long, just about a week," I said. "You look great," I added honestly. She really did. Now that I was close enough to get a good look at her, she looked even better. She looked like she was here for a date.
"Thanks. Likewise." A couple awkward seconds of silence passed.
"Are you here with someone?" I asked. She had walked in alone, but that didn't mean the answer to that question was no. Even though I sort of hoped that it was.
"Actually, I am," she said. Fuck, of course she was. Tiff had said she was with someone. They were here on a date. "It's kind of a funny story."
"What happened?"
"I let Tiffany set me up on a blind date," she said, looking down like she didn't really want to tell me. All I had heard was the words “blind date.”
"Are you kidding?" I said.
"I know. She said she knew this guy from her work that she thought I would like... Sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. You're probably here with someone."
"Ron. She told me the same thing," I said. She blinked a couple times.
"What?"
"Tiffany. She said the same thing to me. Blind date with a girl from her work." Her brows scrunched up as she looked at me.
"No, she didn't."
"I swear."
"No. Then that means..." She paused, and I didn't need her to finish to know what she was thinking.
"I thought for a minute I was being stood up," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Her face was still puzzled, and I didn't want that to turn into anger. Call me a dog, but fuck, I had her. I hadn't even had to try and she had just shown up. I wasn't going to just let her get away.
"This has to be a mistake," she said.
"It was Tiffany; she planned this every step of the way. Do you want to call her and ask?"
"Would you mind?"
"I mean, I've got a perfectly good table and it looks like she got both of us, so we might as well get a good meal out of it," I said. She looked unsure, like she was thinking about it and wasn't convincing herself that it was a good idea to stay.
"Could you give me a minute?" she asked. I nodded. She said she was using the ladies' room. I showed her where the table was and went to sit while she was gone.
I started feeling nervous. I wasn't worried that she would tell me to wait for her and then ditch. I just hadn't been ready to see her again. This, an awkward meeting where we were set up without knowing it, was the last way I would have picked to see her again.
I was happy to see her and wasn't going to lie, I was a hell of a lot more excited for this date now that I knew it was with her. But I wished I had gotten to choose, maybe ask her out myself, talk to her first about it because the last thing I wanted was to be sitting with Veronica and not be able to talk to her. She didn't take long in the bathroom.
I pulled her chair out for her and waited till she was sitting before I did again. Neither of us had to say anything because the server appeared and poured us both glasses of water and gave us menus. She fidgeted with the laminated booklet before putting it down on the table.
"I'm sorry about tonight," she said.
"What?"
"You were obviously expecting someone different. I'm sorry Tiffany did this."
"You can't apologize for that. I was just about to leave when I saw you."
"What about now?"
"What about now?"
"Do you still want to leave?" She could have dropped an anvil on my head and it would have been more subtle.
"I want to buy you dinner," I said.
She sighed softly and ran her hands through her hair, leaning her elbows on the table. I was losing her. She was thinking about that door and walking out of it. When the server appeared again to take our orders, she picked her menu up, fumbling to skim through it fast enough to place an order while the guy was still waiting.
"You guys ready to order?" he asked. She apologized, looking at me desperately.
"I'll have the cannelloni," I said. "And, she'll have the baked gnocchi." She looked up from the menu, surprised. The man asked her whether that was what she wanted, and she nodded her head, thanking him.
"You ordered for me," she said once he had left the table.
"I know what you like."
"How do you know what I like hasn't changed?" she challenged.
"One of the first times we went out together, it was for Italian. When you were ordering you got mad that the menu said stuffed ravioli because ravioli's already meant to be stuffed. You ordered the gnocchi and got the same thing both times we went back to that place."
"You were talking shit about that couple sitting next to us," she said, remembering. "You said you thought the woman was his mistress because of how he kept watching the door and nervously checking the time."
"Then you wanted to act cute and pretend you were too full for dessert," I said. She cracked a smile, looking down at her plate shyly.
"I was nervous. I didn't want to be that girl. I was still trying to make you think I was a delicate flower," she said. I laughed.
"How long did that last?"
"I wanted to make sure I had locked you down before you found out I could eat an entire pint of ice cream myself," she said grinning. Her whole body language was calm and she was making jokes as she relaxed. This date wasn't going to be unbearable.
Our food came pretty fast, but that didn't slow us down. Once we had gotten the ball rolling, it was like it had never stopped in the first place. There weren't a lot of people I could feel so free and comfortable around. I had missed this feeling. Being with Ron again. All our beats and rhythms synced up perfectly. She didn't say no to dessert this time.
It was almost like no time had passed, at all. It was like we had never broken up and this was just another date night for us, not some weird scheme that my sister had hatched to get us to spend time together.
I asked her where she had parked, and we started walking slowly towards her car. We were both silent. It was a little breezy, and I had to stop myself from putting an arm around her in case she was cold. She still drove the same car, that red sedan that used to give her hell back in the day, with no functioning seatbelts in the backseat.
"I had fun tonight," I said to her.
"Yeah. I did, too."
"I think we should do it again." She stopped and turned to look at me.
"That can't happen," she said blankly.
"What? Why not?"
"Tonight was a special case. Tiffany bamboozled us. This wasn't a date."
"What the hell was it if it wasn't a date?"
"Dinner," she said shrugging her shoulders, "between old acquaintances." I laughed at that. All the years of history we had and she thought that made us acquaintances?
"Do you really think anyone in there with us tonight would believe that we hardly know each other?" I asked sarcastically.
"A lot can change in a year, Roman."
"You don't just stop being yourself. It doesn't work that way."
"You haven't been here, Roman. You wouldn't know."
"I know you."
"No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't have done what you did. You would have talked to me so we could figure something out together," she said. Her face was drawn with anger. That cool, relaxed vibe we had had going through dinner was dead.
"I knew what would have happened if I did, that's why I didn't. I was deployed. I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want it to be your problem, too."
"Yeah, Tiffany told me. You were deployed, not dead. Why didn't you think I could deal with that? Why didn't you at least fucking talk to me before cutting me loose and making sure I didn't try and come back?"
"You wanted me to make you wait for me when there was no guarantee I was even coming back?"
"It wasn't a good enough reason to dump me. You made me think you hated me. That I was this thing holding you back. That fucked me up, Roman." I shook my head.
"I couldn't do it to you. You'd be getting nothing when I was gone. I was protecting you."
"That's bullshit. You were wrong, Roman. You didn't protect me from anything. You hurt me. You destroyed almost three years together and for what? Nothing." I didn’t stop her as she walked to her car without another word and got inside, fuming mad. This was the last step she got to before she would cry from frustration. I hadn't meant to make her upset, but I'd be a liar if I said it didn't get to me that she was so mad about what had happened.
That meant she still cared. That meant it wasn't just me – the feeling was mutual. I'd also be a liar if I said I didn't find it cute when she got mad. More than a few of our fights had ended in hot, angry sex, and I wasn't sorry for taking it there. I hadn’t seen passion like that in her for a year and it took me back. I couldn’t help smiling.
Damn. I had missed the shit out of that girl.