It wasn’t hard. She glanced at the wine list and handed it to me. “I like red wine. Choose the most expensive.”
I chuckled. “Expensive doesn’t mean good.”
“I know,” she purred. “But we’d look like a power couple if an expensive label sat on our table.”
I focused on the wine list. If I looked up, I might see the seriousness in her expression, and I wasn’t ready for that. Was this woman for real? It was one thing to comment on my car, but I felt a little like I was paying for this woman to date me.
And the night only got worse from there.
Talking to Kimberly was like trying to get the attention of a puppy. Her attention flitted across the room, focusing on anything shiny or new. Only when I asked about her did she go on several one-sided conversations about her hope for opening her own yoga studio.
Then she hit me with a big one.
“I think when we solidify whatever amazing connection we have, then we could go in together on a studio.”
I gritted my teeth, appalled by this woman’s frankness. If she wasn’t Jess’s friend, then I might have told her I wouldn’t partner up with an airhead like her in a million years. I now knew for a fact she agreed to this date after knowing how much I made. Once again, I wondered how the hell Jess was friends with this girl. Jess had a heart of gold, and this girl appeared not to have one. Or tact either.
Once the waiter took our empty entrée plates, I signaled him for the check.
“No dessert?” she asked, leaning against the table. Her breasts swelled over the tablecloth.
“We should get going,” I said, meeting her eyes. My eyes watered trying to keep them above her neck.
Kimberly talked the entire ride home. About herself, of course, and then when we got to her place, I idled the car in front of her building.
She turned and smoothed her hand over my thigh.
“You should come up,” she said, her eyes sparkling and her speech slurred. She’d drunk most of the wine at dinner.
“I need to get home and relieve Jess,” I said.
Kimberly waved her hand. “She’ll be okay. That’s her job.”
“Maybe another time,” I said, trying to let her down gently.
She pouted, and I unlocked the doors, giving her a hint.
“Fine,” she said, flipping from flirty to upset. “Your loss.” Then she got out and slammed my car door closed.
I sighed. Thank god that was over.
On the way home, I tried to think of positive things to say about Jess’s friend. Jess would inevitably ask me how the date went. And I didn’t want to burn any bridges.
When I got home, I went straight to the wine cellar. I wanted to relax with a night cap. I popped open the bottle and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet in case Jess wanted to stay for a little longer. I hoped she would stay.
Jess was in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher. She smiled at me then glanced at the clock at frowned.
“Date didn’t go so well?” she asked, disappointed.
“Let’s talk about it over a glass of wine,” I said, needing something to take the edge off.
Jess and I locked eyes. With a single glance, I knew she didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t want her to go either. “Sure.”
If it were warmer, I would have taken Jess out to the patio, but instead, we settled in on the couch. If this had been the end of our date, I would have made a fire in the fireplace, but this wasn’t a date. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of that?
Jess made me more comfortable than anyone had since Amelia. Spending time with Jess put my mind and body at ease.
I poured her a glass and handed it over.