Up & Out - Ariella Papa [104]
“Oh, God, I couldn’t live without cheese,” I say strongly. He laughs. I feel like a dork.
“I like your glasses.” Maybe this is proof of how dorky I am.
“Thank you. I got them at a store nearby called Selima. My friend Kathy should work there.” I tell him all about how Kathy wears glasses all the time and makes people get the right glasses for their face. He is looking at me the way I’m sure I’m looking at him, like everything is fascinating. The bartender calls him over for a shot.
“I’ll be right back. It’s this little tradition we have. Are you going to hang out?”
“Of course,” I say before I can stop myself, but it makes him smile so it’s worth it. I watch him do his shot. This is really strange. Is he just nice to all his customers? Maybe this is a ploy to drum up business.
“Whiskey will be the death of me. Or nicotine. You want another cigarette.” I nod and take one out of his pack. “You ate all your fish and chips. Good girl.”
“Oh, yeah. It was delicious. And I like to clean my plate.” What the hell am I saying?
“Good, I’m glad you liked it.” He stares at me.
“How old are you?” I ask.
He laughs. “Why?”
“Just wondering. How old?”
“Thirty-five. And you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“What did you do before you didn’t have a job?”
“I used to write and produce a show called Esme’s Enlightenments.” Used to, it still hurts to say.
“Really? I think I saw some of those. They were commercials, right? I used to watch Explore! all the time when I got off work when I lived in Santa Barbara.”
“Yeah, they turned it into a show.”
“That’s really cool. Did the show get canceled?”
“No, I did.”
“I’m sorry.” He says it like he means it.
“Thank you.” I want to lean over the bar and kiss his lips. I must be getting drunk.
“Ben, you got a turkey Reuben in your bag of tricks?” I have decided I hate the bartender.
“Yeah,” Ben says, but he doesn’t look at the bartender. He is still looking at me. I think he wants to kiss me, too. I hear the group of women get up behind me, it distracts me. The spell is broken. I look at them.
“Good night,” the now-drunk birthday girl says to us.
“Happy birthday,” I say.
“Have a good night,” Ben says. I look back at him. “Another beer?”
“Okay, but you’ve got to get the turkey Reuben.”
“I know, I just, I want you to stay.”
“I will, I’ll put some more songs on the jukebox.”
“Okay.”
This time when he comes back out he brings me French onion soup. I’m getting full, but I can’t resist the melted cheese on top and a little of the broth and most of the soggy oniony bread.
“You see why it’s so hard to give up cheese?” he says, smiling.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I try to scrape off some of the cheese from the side of the bowl. “So what were you doing up in New Hampshire?”
“My family’s from there. I went to see them for the Fourth. Have you ever been?”
“Yeah, a couple of times. I went to school in Massachusetts.”
“It’s a nice drive up. A long drive, but I think you would like it.” He stares at me again. “I’ll be right back.”
Every time he leaves I wonder what the hell is happening to me. I’m not the kind of person who picks people up in bars. Okay, I’m not that kind of person anymore. This seems like more than that, but how can it be? He’s just nice, that’s all. I just happened to pick the right seat. It’s almost midnight. I should go. I should just leave. No, I have to say goodbye.
When he comes out again, I lose my cynicism and just accept the fact that I don’t want to go, that I want to stay and talk to him. He has changed into a regular button-down shirt.
“What? No amuse bouche?” I ask, referring to the starter you get at the beginning of a meal at some restaurants. “Isn’t this a reverse meal?”
“I get it, she’s a foodie.” He laughs.
“I prefer gourmand, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Is he wearing contacts that make his eyes sparkle like that? “The kitchen is officially closed. I decided to just bring you me this time.”
“That’s the best,” I say a bit brazenly.
“Do you want to do a shot with me?”
“Sure.”
“Do