Page 4 of A Powerful Attraction
Stan was now officially fifty minutes late, which meant he had stood her up. And she wasstarving.
The phone chirped beside her and she read the text.
Stan: Me and my ex have been talking for the past hour. We got back together. Sorry.
Wow.
Deflated, Sherry thought about the past three months of flirty texts and long conversations. And what about all the trouble she’d gone to just to get ready for tonight? She’d left work early to get her nails done, and her hair washed and styled into silky, shiny, loose curls that brushed her shoulders. She’d done a full face of makeup and even bought a new dress to impress him. All for naught.
Sherry channeled her anger and tapped out a quick message.You’re an ass.She hit send. Then she turned her phone to silent and flipped it over onto its face. If he responded, she didn’t want to know.
The waiter approached, a young Asian man with a sympathetic smile on his face. “Do you still need more time?” he asked.
She’d planned to leave, but Sherry felt guilty for holding his table for such a long time with only a glass of water. She could leave a nice tip, but why leave at all? Why waste a perfectly good outfit? And she was, after all, hungry. She would not let Stan force her back home. She’d had enough of letting a man’s bad behavior dictate her actions.
She knew the menu inside out and chose to make the best of a bad situation. She was going to have dinner, dammit. By herself on a Friday night in a crowded restaurant.
“Actually, I don’t need more time. The other person isn’t going to make it.”
“Oh.”
She gave the waiter her order for a meal and a drink, and he left.
Idly, Sherry let her eyes wander around the room, and a bit of longing overcame her and her enthusiasm dimmed. Couples flirted across the tables from each other, and groups of friends laughed uproariously as they dived into the delicious-smelling Italian food served from the kitchen.
Maybe she should have tempered her excitement so disappointment didn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste.
The waiter brought her drink, a Negroni, and set it on the table along with a platter of crisp bread and a small cart with different flavored olive oils and balsamic vinegar. “Your dinner order has been entered and should be up shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Sherry removed the orange peel from the side of the glass and sipped her cocktail.
“Don’t tell me you got stood up.”
On its own accord, her pulse bounced into alertness and then raced at the sound of the familiar voice.
Sherry looked up at Alex, standing beside her table, holding a tumbler with the remnants of a red drink in his hand. He wore the jacket from earlier in the day, but sans tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked like he’d come straight from work to dinner.
“Excuse me?” Sherry said.
A sexy smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and caused tingling in the middle of her chest.
“I came in and sat at the bar behind you and saw you waiting for the past thirty minutes or so. Did your date have to cancel?”
Sherry considered lying, but what was the point? If Alex had been seated at the bar, then he’d accurately guessed she’d been waiting for her date, until a few minutes ago when she finally placed an order.
“Yes, he had to cancel,” she admitted reluctantly.
“That’s too bad.” His face gave nothing away. “Then you shouldn’t mind some company.”
“That’s mighty presumptuous of you,” Sherry said.
“Am I wrong?”
Sherry shrugged. “It’s a free country. You can have a seat anywhere you like.” She spoke in a dismissive voice, though she would welcome the company.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
