Page 7 of The Physical Attraction Seminar
Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, a burst of uncontrollable laughter spills out of me. I can’t help it. Murphy’s law has outdone itself today. I knew Iwas due for a stroke of bad luck, considering how peaceful my life had been for the last few months. I just didn’t expect the impending setbacks to ambush me all at once.
Just as my sides start aching, I hear a throat clear below me, and I snap back to the present. In a matter of seconds, I scramble off of the poor man, feeling the rough texture of the pavement on my hands as I push myself up to my feet.
The man moves to stand almost as quickly, and the surrounding sidewalk suddenly feels suffocatingly narrow. As I glance up from his leather Oxford dress shoes, my attention is drawn to the smooth fabric and crisp lines of his navy-blue suit. It’s perfectly tailored, and the fine stitching is similar to Elliot’s, which leaves no doubt in my mind that this guy is well-off.
When he extends his large hand between the two of us, my heart skips a beat. I expected him to make a snide remark, laced with annoyance, and tied together with a condescending tone, before stomping off. Not for him to outstretch his hand, ready to introduce himself.
A small voice inside me whispers to spin around and take off running down the street. Crashing into each other was already embarrassing enough, and the last thing I want to do is stand here and rehash the details. Then, the more rational side of my subconscious reminds me that apologizing is the least I can do, so I stay put.
With a gulp, I reach out and slip my palm into his. Between the fall and my fit of laughter, I only got a glimpse of his good looks. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the clean-shaven jaw and rich, brown eyes.
As he straightens out his suit jacket, I catch himroaming his gaze over my figure, and his shameless gaze makes my knees turn to jelly.
Stranger. This is a stranger.
Get it together, Lyla. You’re never going to see him again.
At least, that’s what I tell myself until his lips turn up into a smile that nearly knocks me out cold against the sidewalk. “Forgive me. I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.”
I fight a gasp, trying to mask the effect this man is having on me. My last boyfriend could never elicit even a fraction of the butterflies that are currently taking flight in my stomach right now.
While I don’t possess the same level of boldness as Camila, men rarely intimidate me. However, the sight ofthisman’s mouth turning up into a bashful smile as he shakes his head is making my brain short-circuit. I’m a gawking mess, and to be honest, it’s almost as humiliating as accidentally barreling into him and sending him crashing to the ground.
On the other hand, the chances of seeing him again are slim, which means I should make the most of these final moments and take in the view.
When I don’t respond, a wave of concern washes over his expression. “Are you hurt?”
His eyes sweep over the bare areas of my arms and legs, checking for scrapes and bruises that don’t exist. If anyone were to bear the brunt of injuries, it would surely be him, considering he so graciously broke my fall.
I shake my head, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine. Thankyou, though.”
Assuming that is the last of our pleasantries, I crouch down with a sigh and mourn the loss of my beloved pad thai. Grilled cheese and tomato soup for the third night in a row doesn’t seem nearly as enticing as takeout, but I’ll manage.
Above me, the man’s words are indistinct as he mumbles something into his phone. Drowning him out, I almost miss it when he speaks to me again. “Why don’t you grab us a table while I take care of this?”
He tips his head toward the Italian restaurant a couple of yards down from where we’re standing. My face twists as I look up at him and point at my chest, then his, trying to confirm whether I heard him right.
He wipes his thumb over his lips to brush off his laugh as he nods, and my lungs feel like they’re imploding on themselves. He’s got to stop doing that whole pretty-boy-smiling thing because my resolve is fading fast, and I can’t keep adding humiliating moments to today’s recap.
“The least I could do is buy you dinner.”
"Oh, no." I quickly push myself up off my knees and wave a dismissive hand. “You—You really don’t have to do that. This is all my fault, anyway. I grabbed my roommate’s sandals on the way out the door. I should’ve known they’d be a tripping hazard.”
“If I hadn’t been preoccupied with the phone call, I would’ve had the chance to move out of the way, and you’d be enjoying your meal right now,” he counters back. Our eyes lock, and a sudden warmth spreads across my cheeks. “Please. I insist.”
He might be attractive and wealthy, but after the dayI’ve had, I don’t have the emotional capacity to add another name to my ever-expanding catalog of disastrous dates.
Would this even be classified as a date?
For all I know, he could use this dinner as a scheme to gather information before blindsiding me with a personal injury lawsuit.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. Camila and Elliot would be upset if they found out I went out on my own instead of grabbing a celebratory drink together, and I have an interview tomorrow that I can’t afford to mess up.
After Elliot sent me home, I opted for a five-hour nap instead of preparing, which has put me behind schedule. My confidence is already shaken, and not knowing the name of the company we were acquired by only adds to my uncertainty. In hindsight, I knew I should’ve asked before leaving the office, but the thought of rushing back home and crawling into bed clouded my judgment.
Somehow, all the rationale seems to have evaporated from my brain because my feet have a mind of their own, guiding me into the restaurant.
It doesn’t stop there because even the sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filling the air doesn’t stop me from asking the middle-aged hostess for a table for two.
