Usually by the third date with a girl, I’d already wined, dined, and seduced her. Usually, at this point, about a week or two in, I was looking for an out. An excuse to cut things off and move on to the next. My brothers, who were just as bad as I was, always told me that I gave them a run for their womanizer money.
But, this girl? This girl was different. She was like a magnet, pulling me in and keeping me close. I wanted to be with her all the time. I never wanted her to stop talking or laughing. I thought about the color of her eyes and the cute dimples that appeared when she smiled, like I was some kind of lovesick teenage girl. When we were apart, I wondered what she was doing and what she thinking. Maybe it sounded harsh, but I’d never cared about a girl as much as I cared about this one.
I’d been a reckless in my choice of location for our third date. Love Park, right in the center of the city. It was home to one of the most photographed sculptures in the country, though the artwork was nothing more than massive red letters spelling out the word LOVE. Maybe it was silly and a little too forward, but Alana didn’t seem put off by it.
In fact, she giggled and insisted I take a photo of her underneath it. She’d admitted to me that she wasn’t from Philadelphia, that she’d actually grown in Boston, and would appreciate a local boy showing her around.
“Do you believe in true love?” she’d asked after I’d taken a handful of photos and she’d given her official approval on two of them.
I glanced up at the massive monument. Love, quite literally hanging above us. The moment was impossibly corny, almost unbearably on the nose, but I felt a flutter in my chest regardless.
Alana giggled.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I think I do.”
“Me, too,” she replied, shooting me a wink.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me. We kissed, softly and sweetly. Her lips were gentle, still unfamiliar to mine after just three dates together. She pulled away first, the ghost of a perfect smile still on her lips.
I was breathless.
“So, are you still not going to tell me what you do for work?” she asked, a grin tugging on the corners of her lips as she reached for my hand and pulled me away from the massive sculpture toward the busy summer streets. She’d worked late at the urgent care clinic the night before and was in desperate need of a latte; I was taking it as an excuse to show her a romantic Parisian cafe that was nearby.
There really was something wrong with. I’d never been a romantic before.
Three dates and this woman was changing me for the better.
I chuckled casually at her question. “I told you, I’m… self-employed.”
“Yes, but self-employed at what exactly?”
I shrugged, dropping my arm around her shoulders. “I do odd jobs here and there for my father. He owns sort of an… enterprise.”
But, Alana wasn’t the type of girl to just let things go. That much was clear already.
Weirdly, I didn’t feel as stressed out as I usually did when girls asked what my job was. I always tended to give a vague answer, like I’d given to Alana, and they’d brushed it off without much follow-up interrogation. Even though Alana was obviously concerned with the details, it felt like it wasn’t because she was nosy, but rather that she was just interested in my day-to-day life.
Alana snorted quietly, elbowing me in the ribs. “What kind of odd jobs?”
“Oh, just boring administrative things for the… company,” I replied, keeping my voice light. “Sales, distribution, client follow-up. All that kind of stuff.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding her head slowly. “Yeah, that does sound a little boring.”
I resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Operation deflection: success.
We wandered into the cafe and Alana gasped in delighted surprise at the Paris-themed decor and French coffee menu.
“I studied abroad in Bordeaux when I was in college,” she said. “I miss it so much; it’s like you read my mind!”
I grinned in response and shot her a wink.
We grabbed our coffees and sat down at a tiny spindly-legged table by the window. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I glanced down at the screen while Alana busied herself taking her coat off and smoothing down her shiny auburn curls.
Angelo Varasso’s name flashed up at me and I sighed internally. Dear old Dad… always the best timing.
I didn’t bother opening the text. It would either have to wait, or he would just have to rope one of my brothers into doing whatever he needed. Right now, his precious heir was busy.
“So, speaking of jobs, what did you want to be when you grew up?” Alana asked, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands. She was just so… cute. I couldn’t help the slow smile that spread across my lips.