Page 5 of Perfect Date
“Do you need an excuse to leave?”
“What? Are you serious? You don’t even know me. How do you know what my type is? Or that I may need an excuse to get out of my date?”
“I know, a woman like you,” he looks me up and down and I swear I feel fire on my skin every area his eyes touch, “doesn’t match up with a guy like that,” he jerks his thumb back toward the table.
Indignation crawls up my spine, and dammit so does desire, but I quickly come to my senses and take a step back, “As a matter of fact, Chad is just…fine.”
“Fine? Did you say ‘fine’? Sweetheart, you deserve more than ‘fine’.”
I ignore his comment, “He’s actually getting ready to take me for a ride in his vintage mustang.”
He chokes and his eyes widen, “Excuse me? A ride? In his mustang, you said?”
“Yes. He likes vintage cars, and he’s going to take me for a ride in his mustang. I’m sure it will be a really great time. More than fine.”
“I’d like to see you go for a ride in his… mustang.”
“What?” I ask confused.
He simply shrugs and smiles at me. I have no idea why, but I find it, and him, completely infuriating. With a roll of my eyes, I push past him and walk back to the table.
Chad looks up as I approach and smiles gesturing to the table.
It takes me a full minute to comprehend what I’m seeing.
Then, I need another minute.
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait. I wanted to have them all ready for you to see when you got back.”
“What is- “
“Aren’t they great? These are only some of them, my favorites. I have more at home for another time.”
Blinking. I think I’m just standing here… blinking.
“What do you think? I’ll tell you about all of them. So, this one…”
“But- but- but… I thought… we were going for a…ride? In your vintage Mustang? Your vintage Shelby mustang convertible?”
“A ride?” he looks at me confused, the smile on his lips slowly falling in confusion.
“Here’s your beer, man. So, you got them all set up then, huh?” Justin pushes past me and sets Chad’s beer on the table. He looks back at me over his shoulder and when he catches the look on my face, he covers his smile, or laugh, with his hand.
It doesn’t help.
I’m not amused.
It’s clear Justin, the hot bartender that I’m clearly crushing even though I refuse to admit it to myself, had already seen Chad’s surprise.
“Yeah, Charlie seemed really interested in my car collection, so I brought my carrying case with me so I could show her tonight. I just got excited and didn’t want to wait anymore. Super cool, right? This one is my favorite, a 1967white Ford Shelby 350 GT Mustang convertible with a red racing stripe down the side. Did you know it’s powered by the dual-quad 428?”
There, sitting on the table, are at least a dozen matchbox cars all lined up for me to see.
“Your Mustang…that’syour Mustang?”
I stare down at the table and at all of Chad’s cars in disbelief, Justin’s now unconfined laughter as he walks away burns my ears.
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