Page 9 of Falling for Red
“It’s okay to say the fire was scary.”
“It was scary.” I giggle, surprising myself with that noise.
“I’m really looking forward to tonight.”
“Is this, like, your thing … picking up girls you meet on the scene?”
He chuckles. “There’s never been anyone as beautiful as you.” I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “That’s not a line,” he says into the silence. “Is seven good, or what time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Wouldn’t table availability dictate that?”
“There are perks to my job. The owners of La Nonna treat me like a king ever since we put out a kitchen fire a while back. If I call them, they’ll give us a table whenever we want.”
I guess he always makes friends on the scene then. It’s cute. “Let’s do six. I’m an early bird.”
“Six. I can’t wait to see you in a less stressful environment.”
I’m smiling too much in agreement. “See you there.”
“There? No. Let me pick you up. Text me your address.”
“Okay,” I relent with no sass. I should have put up more of a protest there, but whatever.Captain Americais picking me up now. He probably drives a truck and will be wearing cowboy boots. I really hope neither are true.
I hang up after giving him my address and saying our goodbyes. Opening the fridge, I blankly stare at it.What am I doing, getting excited about a date with a guy who probably has toxic masculinity seeping from his pores? A military guy who’s now a firefighter, a far cry from the entrepreneurs and WASPy finance guys I usually go for. Not that those guys have worked out well for me. I shouldn’t judge Jake so hard. My gut doesn’t get bad vibes.Lower the guard,I remind myself.
Looking at my phone, it’s almost time for my ex to pick up Gabby. I try to push aside the anxiety that always builds as his arrival gets closer. After checking for the fourth time that she has everything she needs, I feel confident I didn’t forget to pack anything.
“Lista?” I ask, looking down at her. Her dad is only a couple of minutes away.
“Si, mama,” she says, excited. She’s always excited to see her dad. I don’t want to put my feelings toward him on her.
“Bueno.”
My ex isn’t the worst human on the planet. Every time I speak Spanish, I think about the early days of our relationship. Him wooing me. I’d never met someone from Argentina before. He was so smooth, so captivating.
But he can’t keep it in his fucking pants. At first, I brushed it off—cultural differences, monogamy is a patriarchal concept anyways. I mean our marriage was never traditional. It was open. It was easier to be open than constantly fight about his girls on the side. But when he was actively choosing his then girlfriend over me and this baby he begged for … that’s not what we agreed to. Gabby and I were supposed to be his top priorities. It still makes me mad that I was second fucking fiddle in my own home. He’s a self-centered prick. Always has been. Always will be.
“Claire,” he says in a voice I wish I didn’t find attractive with a face I want to punch as he stands on my doorstep.
“Samuel,” I greet tightly, noting how his brown hair has more gray since the last time I saw him. “Remember, if she eats past seven, she will have nightmares. I know your family eats late, but this is a proven thing. Don’t let your mom tell you it’s all in my head. If you want to sleep for the next couple of nights, do not feed her late.”
“Relájate.”
“Don’t tell me to relax.” I squint at him, then bend down to hug Gabby. “I miss you already. Have so much fun swimming with your cousins.”
“Bye, Mommy.”
I squeeze her tight, grateful I only have to part with her a few days a month. Shutting the door, I stare blankly at my living room for a moment.Free time.
I lean into the silence. What am I going to do before my date? I have to shave my legs, that’s for sure. Maybe I could organize …no. I need to take this time to relax.
8
Starting my vintage blue Camaro, I’m too excited about this date. Driving across town to pick her up, I play some comfort music. There’s something about blasting Kings of Leon while driving this car that makes me feel like I’m in a movie.
Cutting the engine, I’m suddenly more nervous than I thought I would be, seeing Claire already outside.Now that’s a dress.She looks incredible in a flowy, peach sundress with cutouts at the waist. Sliding out of my car, she smiles as I approach her modest home. Her smile.Shit.It’s beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. Claire is breathtaking. I want to go in for a hug, but we’re strangers. I hesitate, standing in front of her.
“You look nice,” she says before I can think of something to say. There’s a hint of surprise in her tone, as if she wasn’t expecting me to clean up well. I guess she only saw me in my fire suit. Claire has no idea what my style would be. Not that I havestyle. But my mom enforced the idea that you need to look good when you leave the house.
