Page 61 of Forget Me

18

MIMI

Ten minutesinto my first date with Mateo, I was starting to question my decision to date men.

So far, he’d tangled his finger in my hoop earring and nearly pulled it out of my piercing while helping me take my coat off; pushed in my chair at the table so forcefully I’d collided with the edge of the table and rattled the plates, drawing the eye of every diner in the fancy restaurant; and knocked over my first glass of wine—thank God I’d ordered white—trying to signal the waiter to ask if they could adjust the temperature because I was too warm.

Though he’d managed to flirt with the waiter, who’d winked at Mateo when he set a pair of bacon-wrapped figs in front of him.On the house,he’d said like I wasn’t even there.

The restaurant made my palms itch. It was full of tech bros and their manicured, spandex dress–wearing dates. The bros, awkward and mannerless, used money-backed sharp commands to cover up their discomfort. Their dates simpered and tittered, trying to seal the deal so they could eat meals prepared by a personal chef at home next year.

Maybe the whole thing was a mistake.

I’d taken our date seriously. I’d worn one of the few skirts in my closet, a flared black one that hit right above my knees, with a white blouse. Sure, I’d bought it for my bubbe’s funeral, so the blouse didn’t show any cleavage, unlike the tech bros’ dates. But I’d worn heels, for God’s sake. Heels that pinched my toes and made me cranky. Fine, more cranky. When he uncrossed his legs, Mateo accidentally kicked one of them under the table.

I sipped my second glass of wine and tried to interpret the menu for a first date–appropriate choice. Fish or chicken? Everything had a reduction or a foam or a mousse and sounded more complicated than one of my spreadsheet formulas.

I cleared my throat. “Do you, ah, come here often?”

Mateo gave me a tight smile over his menu. He wore his glasses, and my insides warmed a little. “It’s my first time here. Cooper recommended it when I told him I needed a place to take a special date.”

I fanned myself with the menu. “Did he say what was good here?”

“The filet.”

Filet sounded expensive. And it came with mushrooms, which made me shudder. I scanned the menu again and sipped my wine, then I looked up at my date. He clenched the thick leather menu folio so hard it shook. He had passed on a drink since he was driving. Mateo stared longingly out the front window, where a pair of men stood, smoking cigarettes.

My crankiness melted away. We were in this together. And we were both miserable.

“Hey.” I reached across the table and set my hand on the soft wool sleeve of his sweater. “Want to get out of here? I don’t need a meal this elegant. I could, um…cook?” The extent of my cooking was to boil pasta and cover it with a jar of sauce, but that had to be better than sitting stiffly at this table for two hours. “Or we could pick up a pizza.”

“You don’t like it here?” Behind his glasses, his blue eyes went round.

“I—I didn’t mean—”Shit.“No. Restaurants that don’t have prices on the menu give me hives.”

His shoulders eased down. “It’s awful, isn’t it? I’ll make dinner if you don’t mind simple food.”

“Simple food sounds great.”

After a brief tussle with the check, he paid for my wine and we got back into his Jeep. He drove carefully, no rapid accelerations or hard braking, his head swiveling right and left. So it surprised me when he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“For the restaurant. I wanted to please you. To impress you. Instead, I made you uncomfortable. I can’t seem to do anything right around you.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

And in that moment, I imagined him not as the suave, flirtatious guy he was with everyone else, or as the clumsy, bumbling lunkhead he was around me. With my mental eraser, I lifted all those layers to get to the scared, lonely man under it all. The one whose mother had left him and whose father had died too soon. Who used a honeyed façade to surround himself with people so he wouldn’t be alone.

Even though my family got up in my business too often, it was a comfort to know they were there whenever I needed them. I was glad Ben had adopted Mateo as part of his family.

I waited until he stopped at a red light, then I put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to try so hard. I’m already impressed, or I wouldn’t be here.”

He turned toward me. “You are?”

I nodded.

Leaning across the console, he reached for the back of my neck and pulled me in for a brief, fierce kiss. When we broke apart, his eyes blazed like blue lightning. “Thank you. For saying that. I won’t disappoint you.”

He tangled his fingers in mine, and when the car behind us honked, he pulled forward, still holding my hand.

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