“Well, it’s real, and I assure you that I am genuine and not playing any games,” he said. “So, would you like to have a seat and share some wine and food?”
“Um, sure,” I said.
I’d finally stopped laughing, afraid that doing so looked like I was mocking Nick rather than expressing utter disbelief. Nick put his hand on the small of my back—again, sending all sorts of urges and desires through my body that would have been wholly inappropriate to act upon in a public place like that—held the seat out for me, and then headed back to his side of the table once I was seated.
OK. It’s real. It’s not a game, and if it is, you at least know you’re getting food out of it. Just…chill.
“How…why?” I said when Nick was seated and back to flashing his megawatt grin to me.
“Why?” he said. “Well, I suppose it would make sense after something like this to just get right to it, doesn’t it?”
He grabbed his glass of water, held it to his lips, and carefully eyed me as if analyzing the proper way to say his words. I almost felt like he was undressing me psychologically, and it was just as hot as the look a man would give when he was undressing me physically. Even though he had taken all the risk in setting this up, I felt like the one with the most to lose—or gain—here.
“I’m not going to lie to you and say that there aren’t perks of attention when it comes to being a professional athlete,” he said. “But ironically, that flood of attention can make it so much more difficult to find a woman who is strong, determined, and capable. When I read your email, I felt a certain curiosity—I know a lot of the administration and planning people at Fresno State—”
“Oh, I’m not with the university,” I said. “I just work for a firm that handles a lot of their event planning.”
“Oh,” Nick said, looking sheepishly dumbfounded—but not embarrassed. “Well, that explains that. But anyway, I nevertheless will admit that I was curious to learn more. And, well, as ridiculous as this might sound, I think I should be honest and say I looked you up. And you had a certain fire to your eyes that most people don’t have.”
I didn’t think that was ridiculous at all. I had searched every prospective date since Malcolm online so I avoided having a repeat of what had happened with him. The only reason I hadn’t done so with Nick was obvious, and in any case, I’d done work on him.
But still!
This was real? This was still real. And that compliment…oh, shit…
“When I saw you at Fresno State, I tried to get your attention, but I just got one brief gaze; do you remember that?”
“Uh-huh.”
But the simple reply understated that moment. I remembered it as vividly and clearly as anything else from that day. You didn’t forget when someone looked at you like that, especially when hundreds of students could have seen him gawking at me. The confidence and somewhat shamelessness that he had acted with was too compelling not to remember.
“Well, besides that, I could not get a hold of you. Your assistant, Rachel, she was great, but I felt it was slightly ridiculous to ask her for your number. So, I decided that the best way to do it was to go a little old school.”
“Flowers and an anonymous letter?”
I’d meant to say that romantically, but it probably came across a little accusatory.
“How else would you have me do it?” Nick said, his words gentle but the implication clear—he did things how he saw fit. “I wanted to go old school for a woman that I felt had a little bit of an old school soul to her.”
Oh, he was so kind.
But he was also so wrong.
There was nothing old school about a single mother with an insane ex-boyfriend, one that would gladly beat the shit out of Nick regardless of his athletic standing. Fortunately, Nick had plenty of size on him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to put anything past Malcolm.
“Well, that’s very kind and flattering of you to say,” I said. “But don’t get too carried away. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I fully admit that. Which is why I wanted to meet you for dinner.”
OK, he’s smooth. Credit where credit is due.
“So tell me about yourself, Izzy. What brings you to the Bay Area? Where did you grow up?”
Probably need to keep some of the juicier details to the end. No point in scaring him off yet.
“Well, I grew up in Utah, actually. Salt Lake City. One of three kids. I was always driven to set an example for my siblings, and when I graduated from Utah State, I got a job working in a marketing firm in Los Angeles. That drive has probably cost me a few fun nights out, but it also got me to where I am today. I moved here for work…yeah, for work.”
And to avoid Malcolm. But, you know, that can wait to be explained later.
“And what about you?” I said, both very curious to know more than just the athlete and to get the subject off of me. “And don’t give me SportsCenter answers. I want real answers.”
Nick’s gentle laugh was enough to put me at ease. It made me feel like I could settle down and not be seen as this weird object of desire. As flattering as this all was, I still needed to ground myself at some
