“Nice dress.” David tells me as he helps me back into the car. “You didn’t have to change on my account though, you already looked great.”
For some reason, his words make me feel unreasonably glad. “Thank you.” I say, “I wanted to.”
He nods and starts to drive towards the restaurant. We are both silent. I wonder if I should try to make conversation, but I don’t know what to say.
“Were you at a conference at Ashcroft Hills?” I ask finally.
He nods.
I search my mind for something else to say. “I hope it went well.”
He shrugs. “It went well.” He looks over at me. “I went to make a decision about a new software that may either be the next big thing, or a complete waste of time.”
“What did you decide?” I realize that I’m genuinely interested. I want to know everything about him.
“I bought it.” Something in his voice gives me a feeling that he is someone who is used to being able to get whatever he wants, as soon as he decides that he wants it.
“So what do you do instead of being outgoing?’ He asks, breaking into my thoughts.
I shrug. “I read, sometimes I draw.”
He looks interested. “What do you draw?”
“Stuff.” I’m definitely not going to tell him that I’ve been doodling his face on the margins of my book since he left the store. “I do more of reading actually.”
“Like Fanny Hill.”
I blush. I’m so embarrassed I don’t even know how to respond.
A smile curves his lips as he registers my embarrassment. “I thought young people never read anymore.” He says. I wonder how old he is.
“What?” He asks, his eyes are back on the road now.
“I am wondering how old you are,” I say softly.
He laughs, and my ears follow the sound eagerly. “Oh I’m legal,” he sounds amused. “I’m twenty seven.”
So am I, I think. I remember when he asked me my age earlier, and I try to control the shiver of excitement I feel.
At the restaurant, the manager takes one look at David and immediately puts himself at our service. There is so much deference in his manner that I start to wonder if I’m not missing something. David doesn’t seem surprised or bothered. He is used to people serving him, I realize. I don’t know what conclusions to draw, I know so little about him.
As the manager leads us to a secluded table with a view of park, I notice how the women stare openly, while the men look at him with a combination of jealousy and admiration. They know who he is, I realize. I wonder how soon I will have the opportunity to google him. I don’t own a computer, but there is one at the shop.
The waiter brings the menu, and David orders wine. I take my time studying the menu, trying to decide what to order, and thinking how young and gauche I must seem compared to all the sophisticated women he probably knows.
While we eat, I tell him more about myself. I think the wine relaxes me, because I really talk to him. I tell him about my mother, who died giving birth to me, and Aunt Josephine, her much older sister, who became my guardian. I even tell him about my father, who nobody knew, but who Aunt Josephine always said was some professor my mother had an affair with during the only semester she spent at college.
I tell him about boarding school, life in Ashford working at the shop, and about Stacey Carver. Finally, I tell him about my plans to go to Bellevue to get a job.
“Why not Seattle?” He asks. “It’s bigger.”
I don’t want to tell him that I chose Bellevue because my mother went to college there, and came back with me. I don’t want him to think I am chasing a ghost, so I just shrug.
He is a good listener, but he never says anything about himself. Not that I notice, I’m too caught up in the beauty of him, his graceful hands and fingers, the way his eyes seem to penetrate me when he looks at me, and the way his hair frames his face in a soft black wave.
I have a sudden urge to touch his hair, it’s so strong that I have to control it consciously. What is happening to me?
“Sophie?” The voice breaks me out of my admiration of David, and I turn around to see a familiar face, Eddie Newton. He was a neighbor back when I still lived with Aunt Josephine. I don’t know him very well, Aunt Josephine made sure of that. He always had a friendly smile and a wave for me when I was a lonely kid. He’s been away at college for a while, and I haven’t seen him since long before Aunt Josephine died.