When Kit and I separate, I go back to my apartment to change and get ready for my date. I wish I could beg off, but I'd never hear the end of it from Kit, so I take a shower and put on a light green summer dress with ties at the shoulders, and slip on a pair of comfortable sandals. My hair has decided to cooperate, so I leave it loose on my shoulders and apply a bit of makeup. I'll have to do.
I take the L train toward 8th Avenue, then change to the C train. As the car rattles around me I think about the failure of today. I owe Kit a day for her. It feels gross that we barely spoke about the fact that she's about to get engaged. I take out my phone and text her.
Thanks so much for today. Next time will be 100% about you.
She sends me back a heart emoji. Good luck tonight!
If he proposes call immediately.
You mean if he GOES DOWN ON ONE KNEE?
Ha!
I smile and put my phone away. When I get to my stop, I walk up the stairs and then to the restaurant. It's seven and the day has cooled off, a gentle breeze in the air. The restaurant is on a street with a string of similar places—smaller, with bistro tables outside and flowers draped over the entrance. The smells coming out of it are wonderful—garlic, butter, and fried cheese. I haven't had anything to eat since I devoured the eggs benedict of death and I'm finally hungry again.
I walk up to the hostess and give her my name. "I'm here for Jack Dunne."
"Yes, he's already seated."
"That's a nice surprise."
Her thin face pinches. "What's that?"
"Nothing."
She smiles the bland smile of a million similar interactions. "Follow me, please." She picks up a menu and walks around the outside of the building to the last table under the deep blue awning. A man's sitting there, fiddling nervously with a fork. Jack.
He looks up. "Chloe. So glad you could make it."
He stands and it's a shock. Because he does look superficially like Fake Jack—my Jack my mind bleats—but also quite different. His eyes are more brown than hazel, his hair a shade lighter with less curl in it, and his frame is thinner. He's a good-looking guy, and his blue checked shirt and dark blue chinos fit him well.
If he'd shown up last weekend, I would've been pleased. But all I can feel right now is a vague disappointment. Some stupid part of my mind thought that it might be him. That the two Jacks might be the same person, playing a trick on me.
I'm such an idiot.
"Hi," I say and try to smile.
We stand there for a moment awkwardly, with me wondering if he's going to try to hug me. He doesn't, just comes to my side of the table and pulls my chair out for me.
"Thank you." I sit and take my napkin off the table while the hostess tells us our waitress will be with us shortly.
"Have you been here before?" Jack asks.
His voice is medium deep, without any trace of an accent that I can discern. A nice voice for a nice man that so far I'm feeling no chemistry with. But I'm not being fair. Did I feel chemistry with Fake Jack immediately? Or was it just the relief of thinking that I hadn't been stood up when I had?
"No, but I've heard good things."
He nods enthusiastically. "It's great. I live near here, so I've been a bunch of times."
YOU ARE READING
CHLOE BAKER'S LOST DATE
ChickLit[COMPLETE] When Chloe Baker agrees to go on a blind date with her best friend's co-worker, she's only doing it to appease Kit. But then she and Jack hit it off and spend a magical day together. That is until he's suddenly unfindable after the date's...
