Page 65 of Perfect Date
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must be hard,” he says kindly and for the first time I wonder what I’m doing. Jordan really is nice. He doesn’t deserve to be used like this. I’m determined to have a nice time.
“I really like the burgers here, the steaks are amazing, I’ve never had a salad I don’t like either.”
“Wow, so you come here a lot?” Jordan asks with a laugh.
“Yeah, I’ve been here a few times,” I shrug.
Looking toward the bar, giving in to that damn magnetic pull, I see Sam and Justin having what looks like a lively argument. It makes something inside my chest flare and I feel anger burn my skin.
When Justin suddenly turns his head, seeing me looking at him, I look away quickly, and overly exaggerate a smile at Jordan. Making small talk about the menu and other tidbits, out of the corner of my eye I see Justin stalk over.
Eyes widening, I make sure every single bit of attention is on Jordan.
I may even be smiling seductively.
I didn’t know I even knew how to do that.
Truth is, when Jordan looks up at me, he just looks…confused.
But when my drink suddenly lands with a crack in front of me, I know that the arrow I was trying to aim, is a bullseye. Looking up at Justin, again, he looks absolutely furious.
“Your margarita,” Justin says placing the drink in front of me, “Since you hate wine.”
He puts Jordan’s in front of him without a word.
“Are you going to talk to me?” He asks.
“No.We’d like to place an order for food.”
“Too bad,” Justin says.
“What are the specials?” I ask him again.
“Look, it’s time for you to get down off of whatever high horse you’re on and talk to me, dammit. You’ve made your point, so tell the man you’re sorry and lets go talk.”
“Excuse me?” I ask indignantly and feel my cheeks flush and to be honest, I don’t know if I’m feeling embarrassment or excitement at his directness and the fact he clearly knows what he wants.
“Hey man-“ Jordan tries to interrupt.
“Did you seriously just say that?” I ask talking over Jordan.
“You bet I did. I’ve been trying to track you down to talk to you for days and now you’re here, so, yeah, we have unfinished business to conduct.”
Jordan interrupts again, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to have to ask for a manager if this doesn’t stop.”
“He is the manager,” I say at the same time Justin says, “I am the manager,” in annoyance.
“We’d like food; we want to order. Now.”
“I said no,” he says to me.
“Uh, excuse me?Jordan’s hungry,” I insist.
Eyes on me, he walks to a neighboring table who were just served their meals, and takes one of their plates and thrusts it in front of Jordan.
“There you go, dude. Eat.”
“You did not just do that.”
