5 - Seeing Things that aren't real
JO
I've always enjoyed watching people—especially couples and how they interact. Their body language reveals plenty about the relationship.
Take that guy over there at the table in the corner of the French restaurant I currently dine at. His bright eyes never leave the woman sitting opposite him. He leans forward whenever possible, and the smile on his face when she talks speaks volumes. He moistens his lips as if he couldn't wait for that next kiss. The woman's back is turned to me, but I bet she returns his enamored smile. There's no ring on her finger—yet. He probably plans the best way to pop the question while she anticipates his proposal.
This other couple over there, on the other hand, is close to a break-up. They might sit at the same table, but their thoughts are anywhere but with their partner. The only connection they shared was when they momentarily held hands walking in. His eyes scan every female that walks by their table, and her focus is on the cute waiter that serves them. He probably fucks his secretary while she has an affair with the pool boy.
Yes, watching people—making up stories about them in my head—is a favorite of mine.
I shouldn't do it, though, while I'm on a date. I should concentrate on what Adam talks about. I should look at him and not the other guests. But my eyes, as well as my mind, keep wandering.
It's not that Adam is boring or not ogle-worthy; he's cute with his hazel eyes, perfect nose, and full lips. His stubble is definitely a turn-on, too, and he's easy to talk to. We had some great conversation at first, but the further the date progresses, the more obvious it becomes that his charm doesn't work on me.
This is our second date, and Adam is the third guy I went out with since I let Mads sign me up with this dating app. While I was perfectly content with my single life, my best friend thought it necessary to finally put an end to it.
"What do you think?"
My eyes snap back to Adam's. Damn, I didn't catch his question because I was so deep in my own thoughts. "Um, sorry. Think about what?"
Adam laughs softly, and I hope he hasn't realized that I wasn't listening to most of what he said. "About dessert," he explains. "The Crème brûlée maybe? As you mentioned earlier, you've never tried that."
Ugh, why does he have to be so attentive? He listens—something I can't say about the other two guys I went out with. They were more interested in themselves, always talking, never paying attention to me for long. Yes, Adam would be excellent boyfriend material.
I smile at him. "Yes, that's sounds awesome. Would you order?" Excusing myself to the restroom, I get up from my chair. I straighten the purple cocktail dress that I had to wear because this place is fancy as fuck—as Mads called it.
After relieving my bladder and washing my hands, I stand at the sink and look at my reflection in the mirror. "Ugh, Jo, you're hopeless," I mutter. I feel bad for Adam. He is a sweet guy, but a pair of blue eyes and lots of messy blond hair ruined it for me.
Damn, Liam screwed with my head. All I do is compare the other guys to him. It's not even about the looks—although Liam is one gorgeous hunk—but about the feelings he evoked. I thought we clicked. What happened, though, showed I was wrong. So now, every guy not only has to live up to high expectations but also convince me he won't ghost me.
I take in a deep breath before I exit the restroom. I will return to our table, and I will pay attention to Adam. I will listen to him and get to know him. I will give him a chance and forget all about Liam.
When I'm almost at the table, Adam lifts his gaze, and our eyes meet. The sweet smile he gives me makes me feel a little fuzzy, and I cover my belly with my hand while the corners of my lips lift a fraction.
Just before I sit down at our table close to the window, a movement outside catches my attention. It's still busy on the street, but my eyes stare at the black luxury car that pulls up on the curb next to a woman in an elegant maxi dress and a man wearing a suit.
A strange sensation rushes through me when I watch him open the car door for her. Once she sits inside, he slams the door shut and jogs around to the other side, giving me a better view of his face.
My heart stops; it refuses to beat for what feels like a full minute. My breath hitches in my throat, denying my brain some much-needed oxygen. No, this is impossible. I'm seeing things that aren't real. This isn't Liam getting into a car with some hot brunette, driving off into the New York night.
"Jo? Are you all right?"
Once again, Adam's voice tears me out of my haze. I blink at him, not capable of uttering a single word. "Um, yes, no... I don't–" I stutter. Shaking my head, I clear my throat. "Sorry." I sit on my chair with a sigh. "I just thought I saw someone I knew outside." I grab my wine glass and take a huge gulp.
Adam turns his head to look out the window before he directs his gaze at me. "Okay, well, I ordered dessert—if you still want that."
I grimace. "Adam," I say with another sigh. " I apologize for being a little distracted tonight. I'm not sure what's going on. I hope I wasn't horrible company." I give him a smile that I hope doesn't look fake. "And yes, I'd still love dessert."
With my heart racing and my thoughts all over the place, it's difficult to give my voice enough sincerity, but Adam chuckles reassuringly. "It's okay. We all have days like this. And I'm glad you're staying for the dessert."
For the remainder of the date, I do my best to ignore the incident that shook me more than I'd like to admit. We talk some more about work and our hobbies. We both love traveling, but while I prefer a beach destination, Adam is more of a mountain guy.
We chat and we laugh, and after the fantastic Crème brûlée and some more of that delicious red wine, we stand in front of the restaurant, about to say our goodbyes for the night.
"Thank you for an enjoyable dinner," I tell him. "And that dessert... hmmm." I let out an appreciative sigh, making Adam chuckle.
"You're welcome. Thanks for your company." He takes a deep breath. "You know, I like you, Jo. I'm not sure you feel the same, though." He shakes his head when I frown. "Look, it's fine, really. Give this some thought, and call me if you want to see me again, okay?"
I give him a tentative smile. He doesn't seem upset, and that makes it worse. He is a decent guy, and I wish I could get over myself and give him a chance. "I will."
Acknowledging my words with a nod, he leans in and presses his lips on my cheek for a lingering kiss. "Goodnight, Jo," he whispers on my skin, causing a pleasant shiver to run down my spine.
"Night, Adam," I murmur as our eyes meet when he pulls back. My subtle smile turns into a genuine one, and I watch him take a few steps back before he turns around and leaves.
Looking after him, I let out a deep sigh. Once he disappears around the next corner, I make my way home too, determined to move on from that perfect evening three weeks ago.
"Okay, so your dad will sit next to you." I shoot Lauren a glance over the seating chart for the wedding dinner. She, Henry, and I sit at their dining table, using the time until we have to leave for Lauren's next dress fitting to start with her side of the family, even though we have not yet received all RSVPs.
We haven't gone over Henry's side yet, and I'm not even sure who is part of his family. I need to go over the list of guests soon, but this hasn't been one of the more pressing matters so far.
Lauren had already sent out the invitations before she approached me. It's unusual that someone hires me this close to their wedding. We have less than six months until the big day, and I have to admit I was reluctant at first to accept the job offer.
When a bride-to-be needs a wedding planner this close to the set date, it more often than not means there's a huge mess to sort out. The logistical details can be overwhelming, and once the couple realizes this, it might be difficult to arrange everything according to their wishes.
Luckily, Lauren has done an outstanding job so far. She and Amy had planned Amy's wedding last year, and from what I've heard, it was an amazing day for everyone. So they started planning Lauren and Henry's wedding, but now Amy has a newborn to take care of. Lauren had to acknowledge that she couldn't handle everything by herself anymore, so a mutual friend suggested we meet.
The official photographer for this wedding, Ava, is a freelance photographer who I've hired more than once for other events in the past. When she heard of Lauren's dilemma, she recommended my services.
It also helps a lot that Henry's best friend's fiancée is a florist and that Henry's parents have a beachfront house in the Hamptons—the perfect venue for a summer wedding. Last but not least, I was surprised when I learned how small the wedding party is going to be—well, small for someone of Henry's social status, but I prefer this over a major event any day.
"Have you asked your brother if he's bringing a plus one?" Lauren asks Henry.
He shrugs his shoulder. "He didn't say, but I guess he'll bring Nadia."
Lauren's eyes widen. "He's bringing his fuck buddy to our wedding?"
I almost choke on my spit when I hear her words, but luckily, they don't take notice of me.
Henry rolls his eyes. "Hey, she is not his fuck buddy."
Lauren waves her hand dismissively. "Yeah, he keeps saying that," she huffs. "I don't believe it. You can't be friends with such a hot babe without fucking her."
"She's a hot babe?" Henry laughs. "Sorry, that fact has escaped my attention."
Lauren snorts. "Mr. Davies, you're a bad liar."
Henry smirks and leans closer to his fiancée. He buries his nose in her hair and murmurs, "You know that for me, there's no one hotter than you, soon-to-be Mrs. Davies."
When he presses a soft kiss on her neck, her lips stretch in a happy smile and a faint blush suffuses her cheeks. She even giggles softly. Seriously, the longer I watch them together, the closer I am to developing some kind of diabetes—that's how sweet they are.
After some more chuckling and murmuring sweet nothings, we position some more of Lauren's family members on the seating chart.
While we do, my thoughts return to Lauren's remark about Henry's brother. Mads tried to talk me into having a one-night stand more than once. She keeps telling me that might help with the chronic tension in my neck—and probably other body parts too. I keep telling her that casual sex is not my cup of tea, and the concept of friends with benefits has always been awkward for me.
Mads always praises the advantages of some great sex every once in a while, even—or especially—while being single. So I'm not sure if I should feel disgusted or happy for Henry's brother.
With a small sigh, I look at the time. My eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, guys. I hate to interrupt, but Lauren and I need to leave for her appointment."
When Lauren and Henry say goodbye with a last scorching kiss and declarations of love, I avert my gaze, ignoring the slight sting in the pit of my stomach.
Lauren follows me out the door, and I take in a deep, slow breath, thoughts of one day having what they have again lingering in the back of my mind.