All In (9 page)

“But…”

“Here.” He holds out a grey silk tie
with wide white diagonal stripes on it. It’s nice. I knot the tie
then check myself out in the full length mirror covering his
sliding closet door. The tie works, and I don’t look like a waiter.
Much.

I run my hands through my hair
nervously, messing up the style I just spent twenty minutes on. I
quickly fix it back into place and face Grandpa again. I’m as ready
as I’ll ever be.

“Well, how do I look?” I ask surprised
by how nervous I am.

“You look like you like this girl,” he
says knowingly and he’s right.

…

While on my way to meet
Ashley at the club, after a quick stop at the local florist shop to
pick up a bouquet of roses, I can’t help but laugh at myself. The
entire time Ashley and I were looking out at the town from the top
of the lighthouse I was trying to man up enough nerve to ask her
out. Car races, sure. Fist fights, no problem. Asking a girl out,
no, asking
this
girl out on a date, total wuss.

Even though Ashley
technically asked
me
out, I called ahead and made a reservation at the club for
dinner. Madison was happy to give me the best table in the house,
the corner one overlooking the water. I want to show Ashley I can
give her what she’s accustomed to.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants one
last time and try to act like I’m not stressing out when she pulls
up and gets out of her car.

She looks stunning. Her long dark hair
is pulled up in a high ponytail, and I can’t stop staring. I let my
eyes follow the curve of her neck down to the sparkly tank top
she’s wearing and then to the short black shorts she has on,
showcasing her long toned legs, the whole outfit topped off with a
pair of heels. High ones.

Damn.

“Hi,” she says, a beautiful smile
lighting up her sunburned cheeks. Or is it a blush? “Thanks for
meeting me here, my parents are hosting a dinner party tonight at
the house, it’s complete chaos.”

“No problem.” I nod pulling out the
bouquet of flowers and jutting them out at her like an
idiot.

“Thank you,” she says, delicately
taking in their scent.” They’re beautiful.”

I stand there staring at her like a
fool. Those flowers have nothing on her.

“Well…should we?” Her voice jolts me
from my thoughts. She starts to walk around to the passenger side
of my car before I stop her.

“Um… I actually got us a reservation…
here,” I say.” If that’s okay?” I add quickly.

She glances at the
entrance of the club and then back to me. “Oh. Of course. That was
so thoughtful of you,” she says sweetly, but I wonder if it’s the
truth. I hadn’t actually considered she might not want to be seen
with me at
her
country club until this very second. Gregory may not be the
only one to accuse her of ‘slumming it’ because of me.

“We can go somewhere else,” I offer as
my mind races for a restaurant that’s nice enough to take her to,
but one I wouldn’t need a reservation at on such short
notice.

“No, Lane, this is great.” The smile
she gives me calms my nerves until I walk into the lobby of the
club as a guest and not for work.

Mr. Billings sees us from across the
lobby and quickly makes his way over to greet Ashley. He turns his
attention to me next and speaks under his breath, “Lane, I don’t
have you on the schedule tonight, and you’re a little over dressed
for dish washing.”

Dish washing? You’ve got to be kidding
me. I obviously didn’t think this decision to bring Ashley to the
club for a date thoroughly through. “Sir,” I whisper back, trying
to keep my voice so quiet Ashley won’t hear, “I’m on a
date.”

Mr. Billings straightens up and looks
at Ashley who is politely ignoring us, but I can tell she’s heard
the entire exchange by the way she keeps staring at her feet, like
they’re the most interesting things she’s ever seen. Inside I’m
dying. I widen my eyes at Mr. Billings begging silently for a life
preserver.

He clears his throat and gives me a
knowing nod, “Mr. McCarthy, sir, Miss Whitmore, right this way.” He
gestures with a wide sweep of his arm toward the dining room
entrance. I wonder as we walk if Mr. Billings is trying to help me
out by treating me like a member, or if he’s covering his butt
after insinuating a member’s date should get to the back and wash
dishes. Either way I’m relieved when Madison shows us to a table
tucked into the corner of the dining room with an amazing view of
the harbor.

“This is really nice,” Ashley offers
once we’re seated and looking over our menus. I know she’s been
here before, and this is probably not all that special of a
restaurant to her, but I appreciate her acting like it is. It makes
me feel like I’m not failing completely. Yet.

A new waiter, one I’ve never met
before, which I’m thankful for because I don’t feel like getting
razzed in front of Ashley by one of my friends, takes our orders
then returns promptly with our salads.

I look down at the multiple sets of
forks, knifes and spoons in front of me and realize I have no idea
which utensil is for which course, even though I’ve set these
tables a million times. I’ve never actually eaten at this nice of a
restaurant or paid any attention to which utensil the Stays use.
Crap. I steal a quick glance at Ashley’s place setting while she’s
telling me about growing up in Hartford and luckily I’m able to
deduce which fork she’s chosen to use.

Crisis averted.

We fall into comfortable conversation
during dinner, never experiencing any awkward first date silences.
She’s easy to be myself around, and I like to listen to her talk.
She’s smart and funny, and when she laughs it makes me want to say
something funny again so that I can keep hearing it. What is this
girl doing to me?

“And how was everything this evening?”
our waiter asks, his eyes lingering on Ashley, and I suddenly
understand why Gregory yelled at me.

“It was great, thanks,” I say, pulling
his attention back to me.

“Very good, sir.” He nods, discreetly
placing the bill next to me and walking away.

I stop myself from making a choking
sound when I open the thin black leather folder and see a hundred
and twelve dollar bill for dinner tucked inside. I’ve worked here
for three summers so I shouldn’t be surprised by the total, but I
am. I clearly miscalculated when I got cash out of my savings
earlier today.

Shit.

I do a quick calculation in my head
and realize I have a little less than a hundred bucks left on me
after buying Ashley flowers and filling up my tank. My heart starts
to pound, but I try to keep my face expressionless while my mind
scrambles with a way to pay for dinner.

I give her a quick smile as a plan
develops. “Will you excuse me? It seems I left my wallet in the
car,” I say to her nonchalantly, even though on the inside I’m
freaking out.

“Of course,” she says, glancing at the
check then back up to me. “But—”

“I’ll be right back.” I give her my
most confident smile before casually walking out of the restaurant
and then out the front door. The fresh air hits me like a welcome
drink of water in the desert, and I’m able to take a few deep
breaths to calm myself down.

My plan will work. I hope. Otherwise
I’m gonna have to beg Mr. Billings to take it out of my
paycheck.

“Vic?” I call out into the mostly
empty room but don’t see him anywhere.

“Vic’s gone for the night,” Pete says
from a table in the back of the garage where he has his feet
propped up and is reading a magazine. “A little over dress for
detailing, don’t ya think?” He smirks.

Funny. Haven’t heard that one
before.

“Dude, Pete, can you do me a huge
favor?” Technically he still owes me one. “I’m on a date right now,
and I don’t have enough cash to pay the bill.”

“Who’s the lucky lady?” he says,
wagging his eyebrows up and down exaggeratedly.

“Ashley Whitmore.”

He drops his feet from the table with
a loud thud. “Whoa.”

“Exactly.” I tap my foot frantically
on the concrete floor. “So?”

“Oh yeah, sure, bud.” He pulls out his
wallet and hands me twenty five bucks. “It’s all I got on me,
man.”

“No, it’s great. Thank you so much,
I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” I say before running out of the
garage. It won’t be a huge tip, but at least it’ll cover the
bill.

I jog up the stone path
back toward the clubhouse, cash in hand, and come to an abrupt stop
when I see Ashley standing outside clutching her purse and flowers
as she scans the parking lot. Why is she outside? I haven’t been
gone
that
long,
have I?

I straighten my tie and quickly walk
the rest of the way up the path, hoping I’m not
sweating.

“Is everything okay?” I
ask.

“Everything is fine.” She smiles.
“Ready?” she asks, wrapping what looks like a thin black scarf
around her bare arms.

“Okay. Sure. Let me just run in and
take care of the bill real quick,” I say and head for the front
door.

She reaches out and grabs my hand as I
walk by stopping me. “I took care of it already.”

“But—” I start to say before she cuts
me off.

“Lane, I asked you out, remember?” she
says softly. She looks down at our entwined hands and then back up
into my eyes. “It’s my treat.”

She took care of it? Her
treat?

I’m pretty confident she
must know, or at least suspect I couldn’t cover the bill and that’s
why she paid for dinner and not because
she
technically asked me
out.

“Uh, thanks,” I say, letting go of her
hand and feeling like a complete fool standing there with a wad of
crumpled bills in one hand and my pride figuratively crumpled on
the ground.

Great. First. Date.

Ashley

I glance at the clock on my car’s
dashboard after pulling out of the club’s parking lot and head down
the coast towards home. I switch off the music, too flustered to
concentrate. I can’t believe it’s only eight and our date is
already over, and worse, I can’t stop over analyzing what went
wrong. Did I do something? Say something? I’m at a loss.

I’d thought it was going so well,
except for the small hiccup when we first arrived. But I’m pretty
sure Lane didn’t realize I overheard Mr. Billings insinuate he was
over dressed for washing dishes. Thankfully.

Otherwise, the evening had
been great. Our table had a beautiful view of the boats in the
harbor, dotting the dark water with the warm light of their berths.
But I hardly paid them any attention, too caught up in staring at
Lane. He was wearing a gorgeous tie that brought out the gray in
his crystal blue eyes and his hair was perfectly messy in that
stylish
I just fell out of bed
kind of way. And our conversation had been
effortless. I found myself laughing easier and more often than
usual, and Lane seemed to be having as nice a time.

As first dates go, it was wonderful.
Or at least I’d thought so, until the end.

I’m not sure what transpired in such a
short amount of time, but when I met Lane outside after taking care
of the bill, since I’d technically asked him out, everything that
had felt so easy all night felt awkward and forced. Lane eventually
thanked me for dinner before walking me to my car and giving me a
handshake goodnight. A handshake? I didn’t know what else to do
than to leave, quickly.

“Great first date, Ash,” I say out
loud, chastising myself for blowing it, but still not sure what had
exactly gone so wrong. Maybe I’ll never know. I doubt Lane will be
calling me again.

A car horn breaks me from my thoughts.
I glance in my rear-view mirror and see Lane flashing his
headlights at me. Did I forget something? Like a pat on the
back?

I pull into the beach’s parking lot
and unroll my window as Lane pulls his car into the spot next to
mine. He jumps out of his car, not bothering to use the actual
door, and I can’t help but swoon a little. He looks so effortlessly
cool.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, wondering
why he’s flagged me down.

“No, everything is not okay,” he says,
opening my car door.

“What’s wrong?”

He takes my hand in his, a shy smile
playing on his lips. “What’s wrong is that I don’t want our date to
be over.”

I take a deep breath returning his
smile and reveling in the feel of his hand wrapped around mine. “Me
either.”

“I’m so sorry for before, I
just…well…I just wanted to take you on a great date, but I think I
failed.” Lane tightens his hands around mine and takes a step
forward leaving only a small distance between our bodies.
“Bad.”

“No, it was great. I’m sorry if I did
something…” I want to look down, worried he’ll confirm somehow I
ruined the date, but I can’t break away from his gaze.