Something Borrowed - Emily Giffin [28]
* * *
On Saturday night, I cab down to
Gotham Bar and Grill with an open mind and a positive attitude—half the battle before any date—thinking that maybe Marcus will be the someone I am looking for.
I walk into the restaurant and spot him right away, sitting at the bar, wearing baggy jeans and a slightly wrinkled, green plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up haphazardly—the opposite of TTH.
"Sorry I'm late," I say, as Marcus stands to greet me. "Had some trouble getting a cab."
"No worries," he says, offering me a stool next to his.
I sit down. He smiles, exposing two rows of very white, straight teeth. Possibly his best feature. Either that or the cleft in his square chin.
"So what can I get you?" he asks me.
"What are you having?"
"Gin and tonic."
"I'll have the same."
He glances toward the bartender with a twenty extended and then looks back at me. "You look great, Rachel."
I thank him. It's been a long time since I've received a proper compliment from a guy. It occurs to me that Dex and I didn't get around to compliments.
Marcus finally gets the bartender's attention and orders me a Bombay Sapphire and tonic. Then he says, "So, last time I saw you we were all pretty wasted… That was a fun night."
"Yeah. I was pretty out of it," I say, hoping that Dex told me the truth about keeping Marcus in the dark. "But at least I made it home before sunup. Darcy told me you and Dex were out pretty late that night."
"Yeah. We hung out for a while," Marcus says, without looking at me. This is a good sign. He is covering for his friend but has trouble lying. He takes his change from the bartender, leaves two bills and some coins on the bar, and hands me my drink. "Here you go."
"Thanks." I smile, stir, and sip from the skinny straw.
An emaciated Asian girl wearing leather pants and too much lip liner taps Marcus on the arm and tells him that our table is ready. We carry our drinks, following her to the restaurant area beyond the bar. As we sit, she hands us two oversized menus and a separate wine list.
"Your server will be with you shortly," she says, before flipping her long, black hair and waltzing off.
Marcus glances at the wine list and asks if I want to order a bottle.
"Sure," I say.
"Red or white?"
"Either."
"Do you think you're going to have fish?" He looks at the menu.
"Maybe. But I don't mind red with fish."
"I'm not very good at picking wines," he says, cracking his knuckles below the table. "You wanna have a look?"
"That's okay. You can pick. Whatever is fine."
"All right then. I'll wing it," he says, flashing me his "I never skipped a night wearing my retainer" smile.
We study our menus, discussing what looks good. Marcus slides his chair closer to the table, and I feel his knee against mine.
"I almost didn't ask you out, since we're in the same summer house and all," Marcus says, his eyes still scanning the menu. "Dex told me that's one of the cardinal rules here. Don't get involved with someone in your house. At least not until August."
He laughs as I store away this fact for later analysis: Dex discouraged our date.
"But then I thought, you know, what the hell—I dig her, I'm going to call her. I mean, I've been thinking about asking you out since Dex first introduced us. Right when I moved here. But I was seeing this girl from San Francisco for a minute in there and thought I should wrap things up before I called you. You know, just to make it all neat and kosher. So I finally ended that deal… And here we are." He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand as if relieved to make this confession.
"I think you made the right decision." "To wait?"
"No. To call." I give him my most alluring smile, fleetingly reminding myself of Darcy. She doesn't have the market cornered on female attractiveness, I think. I don't always have to be the serious, dowdy one.
Our waitress interrupts the moment. "Hello. How are you this evening?"
"Fine," Marcus says cheerfully, and then lowers his