Page 69 of The Thorne at My Side
A rock rolls in my stomach. What does the election have to do with this? Shit, have I been texting with Senator Quinn? I scoff. That’d be wild. No, wait it can't be, she's out of town. And that rules out her team too.
"What does the election have to do with anything?" I ask as I reach for the door handle.
“You said it yourself. It doesn't matter," Felix says and then he reaches over and pops the door open for me and all but shovesme out. "Go get ‘em tiger!" He cheers.
I close the door, run my hand through my hair, and walk up to the door of the restaurant. I purposefully don't peek through the windows, wanting my genuine expression to be the one she sees. I step past the lattice that blocks the door from the rest of the space and stop dead in my tracks before rushing backwards behind the screen.
It's Maggie.
The woman in the red dress with the flower phone case on the table is Maggie Collins. Her hair is down in soft waves that falls just past her shoulders. She's looking down at the menu and nervously playing with the frayed edge of the corner. I eye her through the screen for a minute until she lowers the menu to the table and folds her hands on top of it. She checks the time on the phone and then looks around the restaurant.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and pull my tie off, and stick it in my pocket. As I undo the top button on my shirt, I stride confidently to her table. I'll decide how I play this once I get her reaction.
It's immediate. I see the change from hopeful anticipation as she scanned the room to skeptical disdain when her eyes settle on me. I watch as her jaw sets into place and her eyes narrow. She squares her shoulders and drops them down into their sockets.
"Well, well, well, Maggie Collins. Fancy seeing you here."
"Austin." She says shortly.
"Mind if I?" I ask as I pull out the chair across from her and take a seat.
"Yes, actually I do mind," she hisses and then she looks around the restaurant again. "I'm meeting someone."
"For a date?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Yeah, I think I would."
"You know it's a date, don't be a dick."
I shrug, "How come you never got this dressed up for me?" I lean across the table and pull a strand of her hair through my fingers.
She swats my hand away. But the tingling sensation of the silky curl lingers.
"Can you go? I'm sure you've got yoga instructors to fawn over."
"Jealous, Maggie?"
"No." She insists but she definitely looks a little green.
I make a point of checking my watch. "Is your date late?" I ask and follow it with a tisk tisk sound effect.
"I'm sure he'll be here any moment." Maggie says as she flips over the phone to check the time again.
"Wait a minute, is that?" I grab the phone from under her grasp and pull it towards me. "Why, Maggie Collins, I believe we have an SMS Connect phone here. Are you meeting your match?"
"Just, stop it. Give me that." She says as I let her snatch the phone back. She sets it down in her lap and looks up hopefully at the door as it opens.
A kid who could not be more than twenty years old strides in wearing an oversized t-shirt, baggie jeans, and Birkenstock sandals with socks.
"Think that's him?" I ask as I turn back towards her.
"No," she growls.
"So, tell me about him? How long have you been chatting?"
"Austin," she says in a pleading way. "Do we have to do this?"
