A Taste of You

3: Did I Just Lose Everything?

It's Sunday, which means I get two glorious days to myself. I love the restaurant, but everyone needs a break from what they love now and again so they don't become enslaved by it.

I set into a day of self-care. Exercise, long shower, simple homemade omelet for brunch. I am just finishing brunch when my phone buzzes with a text.

Text from Mateo: Sorry we didn't catch up again after our "argument" over the flour. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me.

I roll my eyes. It's even easier to avoid him when I'm not stuck within the same confined space with him for 10-12 hours at a time. I ignore the text, putting my dishes in the dishwasher. Time to do laundry and binge watch something new on Netflix.

I've settled on a new Netflix original series when my phone buzzes again.

"Ugh, take a hint, Mateo." I groan. I would prefer to not have to explain this to his face. I pick up my phone and see an unavailable number.

Text from ???: Hey, it's Ethan from the other night. You remember, right? Tall, dark, and awkward?

My heart flutters, even though my head is screaming "He's charming, but not actually into you. Move along."

I hesitate to respond. Should I flirt back? It's just a text, after all.

Text from me: Hmmm. I seem to remember mostly the awkward parts, but that lighting sure is low in the restaurant so tall and dark may have been a possibility. Supposedly the lights help set the mood, but they aren't conducive to checking people out.

Text from Ethan: I seemed to manage just fine. Also the lights don't set the mood. It's who you have across from you that does.

What! I can't tell if I'm flattered or appalled at his level of game. I better change the subject.

Text from me: So anymore thoughts on Friday?

Text from Ethan: Nope. I have no clue what she'll like. Maybe the wine glasses?

Text from me: I'm sure if you're the one asking, she's not going to care how you ask. I wouldn't.

I see the little dots indicating that he is typing a response, but it's several minutes before he finally sends it.

Text from Ethan: You obviously don't know her.

Cryptic. What's that supposed to mean?

Text from me: So when are we meeting to get the ring in my hands?

Text from Ethan: Thursday morning? I can head into work a bit late.

Text from me: Oh where do you work? I can meet you nearby so you aren't too late.

Text from Ethan: I'm in the front office for the Mariners. VP of Guest Relations. There's a great local coffee shop right around the corner if you really don't mind coming to meet me.

Text from me: As in the baseball team? T-mobile Park? Sweet gig. I'd love to hear how you ended up in that line of work.

Text from Ethan: Come meet me for coffee at 8AM on Thursday and I'll tell all. Cherry Street Café.

Text from me: I get up for no man that early.

Text from Ethan: How about if I throw in a behind the scenes tour of the stadium?

Text from me: Now you're speaking my language.

Text from Ethan: And here I thought I could get by on my charm and good looks alone.