Page 57 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
I fish my phone out of my purse and scroll through my contacts until I find Anastasia’s name.
“Stella, my love! What’s up?” Anastasia answers the phone. I frown. It doesn’t sound like she’s in a car – although I guess I’m used to her showing up late.
“Ana,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. “I’m standing outside the restaurant. Where are you?”
“Oh, sweetie..” she stops talking for a second. “I’m so sorry. I won’t make it.”
That’s perfect news!
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, me and Fabio are…well…you know what I mean.”
I know exactly what she means. That’s just like Anastasia - to get whisked away by some guy.
“Aw, well, maybe we can do this double date another time.”
“What? No. It’ll just be you and Paul. I want you to still have fun. He’s waiting on you.”
The truth slaps me right in the face.Anastasia had never wanted us to go on a double date – she just wanted me to be face to face with Paul.Oh that conniving little…”Can’t wait to hear all about it. Good luck, love! You got this!”
She hangs up before I have the chance to say anything else.
Sometimes, I really hate my best friend.
The quicker I get this fake date out of the way - the better.
New plan…I’d just tell Paul the truth and beg him not to tell Anastasia. That’s not as foolproof, but it still might work.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the heavy glass doors and step into the fully decked out restaurant. The warm glow of crystal chandeliers casts a golden hue over elegant tables adorned with crisp white linens and delicate floral arrangements. A pianist plays softly in the corner, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.
“Wow,” I whisper under my breath, feeling a mix of awe and discomfort at the stark contrast to my own life. This kind of opulence is foreign to me, a world away from the small apartment I share and the long hours spent working multiple jobs just to make ends meet.
“Good evening, Miss,” a sharply dressed host greets me with a polite smile. “May I assist you in finding your party?”
“Uh, yes, please,” I stammer, momentarily flustered by his professionalism. “I’m meeting someone named Paul. I think he’s already here.”
“Right this way,” he says, leading me through the maze of tables. As we walk, I can’t help but feel out of place in my not too modest dress and worn heels, surrounded by glamorous patrons who look like they belong on the cover of a magazine. Still, I force myself to stand tall, remembering Anastasia’s words about confidence.
“Here’s your table, Miss,” the host says, gesturing to where Paul is waiting for me. His eyes light up as he catches sight of me, and I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest.
“Thank you,” I reply, taking my seat.
I won’t lie — Paul is gorgeous, just like I remember him growing up. He has a jawline so sharp it could cut and eyes a green like I’d never seen before. His hair is shaggy and dark, and I can tell, even with his clothes on, that he works out.
If it weren’t for Elio, I’d be all over him.
“Stella, you look fantastic,” Paul says warmly, making me blush. The familiar sound of his voice grounds me, and I can’t deny the happiness in seeing him again.
“Thanks, Paul,” I respond, smiling sincerely. “It’s great to see you too.”
As we begin our evening together, I do my best to push thoughts of Elio to the back of my mind, focusing instead on the kind man sitting across from me. The guilt still lingers, but I try not to let it mess with my thoughts too much.
Paul stands up as I approach the table, his eyes lighting up with a genuine smile. “Stella, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
“Thank you,” I reply, feeling my cheeks redden slightly. As he pulls out the chair for me to sit, I can’t help but notice how effortlessly charming he is.
“Did you get here okay? This place can be a bit tricky to find,” Paul asks, concern evident in his voice.
