Chapter Nineteen - Lucas

I’m more nervous to pick Samantha up for our date than I’ve been about anything in a long time. I don’t know why. Something about her just makes me feel like I really want to get this right. I park my car in front of her apartment and head up her stairs. I feel like I’m holding my breath after I ring her doorbell.

When she answers, I feel like all my breath has been taken away.

She looks stunning. She’s always beautiful, of course, but I’ve never seen her dressed up. Her hair is around her face in curls and the dress she has on clings to her body, her curves making her look sexier than ever. I can’t help thinking that she dressed up like this for me. That she picked this dress out, those shoes, that jewelry, all while thinking about me seeing it. I’ve never thought about that sort of thing before, but something about Samantha doing it for our date feels like a big deal. It feels like the start of even bigger things.

“You look beautiful,” I say, leading her to my car. She smiles a soft smile at me.

“Thank you,” she says, blushing. “You look great, too.”

“Thanks,” I say, grinning, glad she thinks so. I’m normally pretty confident in my own looks. I spend too much time working out for it not to be something I think about fairly often. I’ve certainly had women whisper in my ear how hot they’ve found me before, and I’ve made the hottest bachelor in town list twice over the past couple of years. Still, hearing Samantha say so makes it feel truer than it ever has.

We talk about how our days have gone on the way to the restaurant. I’ve made our reservations at a fancy, upscale spot downtown.

Samantha’s eyes dart around as we’re seated in a corner booth. “I’ve never been here,” she says, “or to any restaurant like this, honestly.”

“It was voted the most romantic restaurant in the city by readers of the newspaper,” I say, watching her look around. I’ve only been here a few times myself, but restaurants of this caliber have become fairly commonplace for me. Investors and lawyers like to meet me at them or treat me with gift cards to them. I’d wanted to take Samantha someplace really nice – really memorable and special.

“Was it? I can see why,” Samantha says, settling herself in the booth.

“For a few years in a row, actually. The chef here is also amazing,” I say.

“Have you been on a lot of romantic dates here, then?” Samantha asks, watching me.

I shake my head. “I’ve actually never been here on a date. Just for work,” I say as a waiter brings us over a bottle of wine.

“Never?” Samantha asks, looking surprised.

“It’s actually been a while since I’ve been on a date at all,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.

“It’s been a while for me too,” Samantha says, sipping her wine. We take a minute to read our menus and order before conversation picks back up.

“I used to date a lot,” I say, “but lately, I haven’t been into that whole scene: the bars and clubs and setups.”

“Getting too old for it?” Samantha teases.

I laugh. “I might be,” I say. “I just don’t think that’s what I’m looking for anymore.”

“But you are still looking?” Samantha asks, taking another sip of her wine.

“For a couple of years, I wasn’t really. I pulled back,” I say, thinking of Paul telling me I was going to be a lonely old man, married to my job and obsessing over finances before I knew it.

“What changed?” Samantha asks, meeting my eyes.

“The new neighborhood, I suppose,” I say, smirking and making Samantha laugh. Making Samantha laugh has become one of my favorite things to do. She looks so pretty when she laughs, and I want to see her that way all the time.

“Of course,” Samantha says, biting her lip.

“What about you?” I ask. I know Samantha isn’t seeing anyone right now. Well, anyone other than me, anyway. I don’t know anything else about her love life, though.

“Me?” Samantha asks. I nod. I can’t get over how beautiful she looks in this light, all dressed up and sitting across from me in a place like this. I think I’d like to take her out more often. I know I’m getting ahead of myself – that even with how we’ve been getting along, there is still the looming matter of our businesses hanging over us. I still really want this to work.

“You said you hadn’t been on a date in a while either,” I say.

“Everyone says I’m married to the center,” Samantha says. “I guess I have been. It’s always been hard to date and keep things up and running. It’s been even harder to find someone who understands and gets it. I’m a business owner, and so many dates have treated me like one day I was going to get a ‘real job.’ They didn’t take what I do seriously, so I didn’t take them seriously, either.”

“I know what you mean,” I say, nodding, “I’ve had a lot of people think it was a smart business venture but not understand why I cared so much about the details, clients’ success, or being there myself so often.”

“People expect you to be all business,” Samantha says, nodding. “I did before I knew you.”

“And people expect you to be no business,” I say, making Samantha laugh again, “the way I used to.”

“Before yoga class kicked your ass?” Samantha says, making us both laugh this time.

I grin. “I was going to say before I really got to know you,” I say, laughing. “But yeah, that too.”

Samantha shakes her head.

Our food arrives, and it’s every bit as delicious as I remember it being. We talk over more of our business ideas and more about the terrible dates we’ve both been on and how hard it’s been to meet anyone we felt serious about. By the end of the evening, I’m sure I’m starting to feel very serious about Samantha. I drive her home after our date, and the whole way, I’m thinking about how much I don’t want the evening to end. I take her to the door and we pause outside it.

“Thanks for this, Lucas. It’s been a great night,” she says, looking up at me. I step in closer to her, eyes on her lips.

“It has been,” I agree. I raise a hand and put it on her face the way I’ve wanted to do so many times. She nods and makes a little breathy sound that I think I’d like to hear her make over and over. She leans in and up toward me, and I lean down.

Her lips are warm and soft against mine as we kiss, and I tug her in closer, wanting to make this last. She puts a hand on my back, pulling me in even closer to her like she’s thinking the same thing. It’s an electric kiss, one I think I’ll remember even if things don’t end up working out the way I want them to.

My hand slides into her hair as I kiss her. I haven’t known her for long, but kissing her somehow feels like something I’ve been waiting for and wanting for years.