2

Will pretends to be Ana's date.

I check the time on my phone; 8:49. The timer still ticks off seconds under the clock. Each rejected second adding up like sand until I’m drowning under a mountain I can’t dig myself out of. A bubble seems to burst in my chest; anger and sadness and this finality wash over me. I shove the phone deep down into the depths of my bag and stand up from the table much too quickly; losing my balance in these ridiculous shoes.

Before I can even stretch a hand out to catch myself, a guy just appears. I swear he wasn’t there when I stood up, but then his hand was catching my waist and his face was entirely too close to my ear. I try to turn to say thank-you, but he squeezes as he turns me around while talking loud enough to attract the attention of quite a few guests:

“So sorry I’m late, Darling. Traffic is hell right now and it took me forever to get out of the office.”

His smile is dazzling and he leans in close to my face again, kissing my cheek before whispering, “I’m Will, just go with it, yeah? Whoever didn’t bother to show up for you is a dick.”

He’s still smiling as he sets me down into my own seat and takes the remaining chair. I feel myself blinking in a horribly dazed sort of way. This must be some sort of trick. This must be some new way for men to gain macho-points from their friends. I bet this will go right onto the internet. Girl stood up by boyfriend, now for your viewing pleasure. But looking around, I see no cameras or group of men laughing. A large number of fellow diners are staring though. Some have replaced their apologetic and sad looks with smiles and nods. Others, mostly women if I might add, seem to be looking straight past my frantic camera searching and at my table mate. 

 

“Are you guys ready to order?” I nearly levitate as my waiter (Our waiter?) looks expectantly down at me. I feel my face grow warmer, and I’m sure it must be turning from red to purple.

“Oh. Um. I...” I glance at the menu. None of the words seem to be English as I quickly try to scan the items. I look up at the stranger sitting with me and he’s still smiling; his eyes twinkling expectantly. The flaming creeps down my neck; the whole room seems to be waiting for my answer.

“Do you feel like pasta, Love?” That’s the boy. Man. Guy. Human. The human who I now notice has dark hair and really lovely grey eyes.

“Um. Yes! That sounds great.” My words come out rushed and frantic. The human’s eyes seem to laugh more and he orders two of something. My, well, our waiter seems to be smiling too as he takes our menus away, though I’m not sure if it’s polite waiter-ly smiling or smiling because a goat has more finesse than I do right now.  

The boy-human leans back in his chair, the amused expression still plastered across his jaw.  He’s actually quite attractive, if one can get past the fact that I have no idea who he is.

“So. A name would be helpful. It will get a bit weird if I just keep calling you darling.” ew

“Oh! Right; of course. Um, I’m Ana.”

“One ‘n’ or two?” He leans a bit across the table, like he’s really interested in the answer to this odd question. It’s almost unnerving to not have to battle a cell phone for attention; I all of a sudden don’t know

what to do with my hands or myself.

“One.”

“Short for?

 

“Analeigh”

“Unusual name.” 

“And Will is short for…” I try to let a little of my mother’s sass creep into my voice, but I smile despite myself. So much for mysterious and aloof.

“William.”

“Original.” He grins, a big goofy smile that crinkles his eyes.

“Family name. After my great-grandfather.”

“Ah.” I laugh, though I’m not exactly sure why, just as our waiter returns with more bread.

“Wine, Ana?”

“Um. No, Thank-you. But please, if you’d like some.” His grin appears again, though I don’t have any idea why that’s amusing, and orders two more of my iced-teas. Our waiter walks away again, smiling. Is there a joke I missed? I look around the room expecting to see that hidden camera, but once more there is nothing. All the diners, excepting the occasional glance, seemed to have returned to their own evenings.

“Not a drinker?”

“What?” I turn my attention back onto him. His suit seems well tailored and finely made, he’s certainly a well off somebody. “Oh, no, not really. What about you?”

“A little. But not when I’m in such good company.”  A strangled sort of laugh pushes its way out of my mouth and I can feel my face burning again. Great finesse, Ana. Really.

Awkward silence fills my side of the table, pressing down upon me like a weight. He, however, seems exceptionally well at ease. I’m actually quite surprised I’ve gone along with this. There should be big fat warning bells going off in my head. Red flashing lights spelling out: Danger. Extremely attractive male who has no reason to sit with you has approached. Run with fear. And yet nothing. My survival instincts suck.

I really hope he’s not a serial rapist-murder. I really don’t want Law and Order to make an episode on how I sat through dinner with my killer beforehand. That would be embarrassing. How would I explain that to people? It was lovely, really. We had a nice conversation, had some delicious food, and for dessert he took a steak knife and slit my throat while sipping coffee.

“Looking for an escape route?”

“What?” Damn. I forgot about exit strategies. That’s it, I’m dead. I’m surprised I’ve lived this long. “Uh, no.

I’m sorry. I’m acting kind of strange. You must think I’m crazy.”

“Strange, yes.” He laughs; a lovely lyrical sort of laugh. Ringing. “But not crazier than forcing a girl you don’t know to have dinner with you.”

“I…You didn’t force me, really.  Just surprised me, a little.”

“You probably think I have some sort of agenda.”

“Murderer might have crossed my mind…” I smile meekly as he laughs again.

“Ah! You caught me. I was going to seduce you over dinner, then bash you over the head, take you home, and drink your blood.” His laughter is contagious, though a little part of me still wonders if he’s not just reverse psychologizing me. “You must like those crime shows then, huh? What’s your favorite?”

“Law and Order and Criminal Minds. I might have a small addiction.”

“My kind of girl. Well, let me reassure you that I have no plans of killing you. You just looked upset.”

“Want me to record that? So the police know my murder wasn’t premeditated?” He chuckles, the lines around his eyes crinkling once more. The waiter quietly sets the two raspberry tea-lemonades on the crisp cloth between us, breaking my eye contact with him. I hadn’t realized how intently we were talking.

 

 “But really, thank you. That was really kind, you didn’t have to do that.” I try to convey every ounce of earnestness in these words.

“I was hungry, and what better way to grab some dinner than with a beautiful lady?” The goofy sort of grin spreads across his face again and he leans back in the chair. I don’t have to feel the heat to know my face is burning red again. It’s a lie; but it’s a kind one and it makes me smile.

“So, who were you waiting for anyway? I hope they have a pretty good excuse.”

I can feel my smile waver slightly; I had almost forgotten about Ben.

“My boyfriend. He asked me to come to dinner with him this morning. But I guess he forgot somewhere between his secretary and the desk clerk.” I roll my eyes, trying to be nonchalant, but the bile turns in my stomach a little at the thought. Will’s eyes turn soft and angry all at once; as thought my being stood up is a personal blow to him. Maybe he’s a good actor too?

“Ana, I’m sorry. Like I said, anyone to not bother showing up for you is a dick.” I smile at him, but I’m also shaking my head, suddenly fascinated by my drink.

“You know. This isn’t the first time he’s stood me up.” I feel the heat rising in my face for the millionth time but the words just won’t seem to stop. “I’ve been dating him for almost two years now. My grandmother set us up. Thinks we make such a wonderful match. And on paper, I guess we do. And for the first couple months, he’s wonderful. Flowers and little notes and random calls just to say hello, I love you. Then I caught him cheating on me with his first secretary and the florist on the corner where he gets my flowers from. I always remember saying I could never forgive a cheater; and yet there I was, convincing myself that he really didn’t mean to stray. He seemed so sincere, so sorry. But then a few nights ago I caught him again, this time with some client. I was furious. I am furious. That’s why he wanted to go for dinner. The ceremonial I’m-so-sorry-you-caught-me-and-i-promise-i-can-do-better night out.” I can hear the contempt in my voice and the quiet crackling as I tread the dangerous grounds.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I just had to tell you all that. You probably think I’m an idiot.” I look back up from my tea, the crinkling around his eyes is different now. Sadder.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think he’s a prick. I think you can do a hell of a lot better. But I don’t think you’re an idiot. He doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have someone so special.” This time, I’m the one whose laugh rings across the table.

“You’re far too sweet. You don’t even know me.” Our waiter arrives with our food in hand, placing the hot plates of garlic and chicken sauced pasta down in front of us and I mumble a thank-you. Will doesn’t even look up, his eyes still staring right at me like he can see what I’m thinking.

“I don’t have to know you to see that you’re special.” For the third time this evening, our waiter walks away smiling but this time I’m smiling too.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Are Will and Ana's banter realistic?
Is it too cheesy?