Page 59 of The Confidentiality Clause
The hostess says someone will be with us shortly before leaving the way she came.
“Ariel, you look gorgeous.” Cohen draws me in for a hug. A deep, musky scent envelops me. It’s not bad, and probably expensive, but it’s not my favorite either.
“Thank you, you look handsome.”
We each sit in the booth across from each other. He folds his hands on the table.
“I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of the house red.” He gestures to the two full glasses. I can’t help but think of wine in a hot tub with Brock.
Focus, Ariel, I scold myself.You have a hot doctor smiling at you, stop thinking about Brock.
I smile. “I don’t mind at all. Red wine is my favorite.”
Cohen’s smile widens. “Mine too. I’ve toured a few vineyards while on vacation in the past. Maybe one day I can show you around one.”
That’s forward. We’re not even two minutes into our first date and he wants to plan a vacation together? I manage to maintain my smile. I’m probably overthinking things.
“I’ve never been to a vineyard,” I say. “That sounds nice.”
“I’m looking forward to it even more now.”
I take a sip of wine to hide my confusion. Did I just make plans?
“How was your day?” I ask as I peruse the menu. There aren’t many options, which I actually prefer. Going to places where the menu is practically a telephone book stresses me out.
“It was great. I had today off, so I went for a run, meal prepped, and ran a few errands.”
“Very productive.” When I have the day off, I either go to the cabin or stay in my pajamas all day.
“Yes, well, it’s hard to get anything done on days when I work, so I try to get as much done as I can when I don’t have a shift.” He takes a sip of wine. “How about you? How was your day?”
“It started off sad because my best friend headed back home to Alabama, but I worked through the day and now I’m here, which is cheering me up.”
“I wish I would have known she was in town so I could have met her. Maybe next time she visits.”
“I–uh–maybe,” I stutter.
This feels weird. We haven’t been talking long enough for him to be inviting me on vacation and meeting my best friend. I’m all for commitment and jumping head first, but this is a lot even for me.
“Have you thought any more about running your first marathon? There’s one this December that if you start training now, we could run together.”
I blink at him. “I haven’t really thought about it. Isn’t the training super intense?”
He starts talking about schedules and interval training. I take a sip of my wine and look around the restaurant. A familiar smirk and head of messy blond hair catches my eye. There at the bar, in an all black suit, is none other than Brock Jones.
Why is he here?
He raises a glass to me in greeting.
I turn my attention back to Cohen. He’s gone from marathon training tips to the best kind of fitness watch without so much as taking a breath. The man is even more passionate about running than I thought.
My purse starts to buzz in my lap. I open it and look inside to see Brock’s name on my screen.
“Do you have a Garmin? I could get you one if you didn’t, so we can sync up our tracking.”
I look up, phone buzzing in my hand. “Wait, what?” I ask.
He chuckles as if my distracted nature is cute. “If we had the same kind of watch, we could sync our tracking and keep each other accountable in race training.”
