Third Date (7 page)

“No, we can go. Whenever you want.” I feel knots forming in my stomach.
 

“You must like art. Do you do any art yourself?”

“I take pictures.” What a horrible answer. Everyone takes pictures.
 

“Oh, yeah? Have you taken photography classes or did you teach yourself?”

“I’ve had a few classes.” No I haven’t! Why do I keep lying?

“What else do you like to do?”

Tell him something truthful!
I yell at myself.
 

“I go to yoga a few times a week.” Finally, a true statement.
 

“I’ve never tried yoga. I’m a runner. Distance runner. I’ve done a few marathons. Do you like to run?”

“Yeah, I run.” Another lie! Where is this coming from? I hate running. I can’t even do it. I’d probably collapse from exhaustion if I had to run more than a few feet.

“Maybe you could show me some trails. I hear there’s a lot of them around here.”

I make a mental note of my growing to-do list.
 

Look up running trails as soon as you get home.
 

Start running.
 

Call the art center and find out how to be a volunteer.
 

Take a photography class.
 

Buy new furniture for your crappy apartment.

Thankfully our food arrives before I blurt out another lie about myself. I make it through dinner by asking Grant questions and talking as little as possible.

I find out that his dad is also a lawyer and practices criminal law back in Omaha. Then Grant tells me that he loves to cook and even considered being a chef before deciding to be a lawyer instead. He’s been to Europe twice—once to England and once to France. He hopes to go to Italy next. He’s a Nebraska Cornhusker fan. And he loves modern art.

“I feel like I’ve talked this whole time,” he says after the waitress clears our plates. “Sorry about that. You must think I’m one of those self-centered lawyer types. I normally don’t talk about myself that much.”

“It’s my fault. I kept firing questions at you. It’s one of my mentor duties. I’m trying to get to know you better.” I reach over for my purse. “I guess we should go. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I need to get in early tomorrow.”
 

The waitress brings the check, setting it in front of Grant, assuming we’re on a date. I reach for the bill just as Grant does and our hands meet.

“I’ll get it,” I say, sliding the check my way. His hand remains on mine.
 

“Let me pay.” He smiles. “It’s bad enough you had to give up your night to take out your mentee. The least I can do is pay.”

“I don’t know. There’s probably something in the mentor handbook that forbids you from paying.”

“To hell with the handbook. This one’s on me.” He retrieves his wallet from his coat and pulls out some bills, dropping them on the table.
 

We leave and he walks me to the car. “I had a good time. Thanks for suggesting this. It was good to get out and do something. I know I just moved here but I already feel like I’m spending too much time sitting around my apartment. If you don’t mind, maybe we could do this again.”

“How about this Saturday?” I ask, without even thinking.

Why did I say that? And did I have to sound so eager? Now he’ll think I’m desperate to go out with him again. And Saturday is date night. Everyone knows that. I just asked him out on a date!
 

He seems surprised. “Um, yeah, okay. Sure.”
 

“Well, I’ll see you at work.” I get into my car, a red 2000 Saturn. I watch as Grant walks behind me and gets in a brand-new silver Audi.
 

The rest of the night I replay all the stupid things I said and did over the course of the date.
 

Why does this always happen when I go out with someone I like? I always say or do something stupid and then I spend the next few hours, and sometimes days, reliving the scenes in my head. And if that’s not bad enough, I make all these assumptions about what the other person must be thinking about me. The post-date recap in my head is almost more stressful than the actual date.
 

This is why I never go on dates.

Thursday morning, Kayla and Paige are waiting in the lab for a detailed summary of last night.
 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say when I see them. “I made a fool out of myself and I’ve been replaying it all night in my head. I hardly slept.”

Paige walks up to me. “What happened? I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Trust me. It was bad.” I set my coffee down and go over to get my lab coat. “Let me clarify. It was bad for me, not for Grant. He probably thinks it went fine.”

“Then what’s your problem?” Kayla makes a note in a file, then gets her coffee and meets me at my station.

“I lied to him. Repeatedly. Like some pathological liar. The lies just kept coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t stop them.”

“What kind of lies?” Paige asks.

“Well, let’s see. Apparently I’m a runner and a photographer. In fact, I’ve even taken photography classes. Oh, and I volunteer at the Walker Art Center because I love art so much.”

They both stare at me, not saying anything.

“I told you. I’m insane. Completely insane. I don’t know why I said those things.”

Kayla shrugs. “I lie to guys all the time. It’s no big deal.”

“But I have to work with this guy. I have to interact with him as his mentor. And I’m trying to date him.”

“That’s true. I usually never see the guy again.”
 

Paige is still staring at me. “Why would you lie about all that stuff?”

“Because I got nervous and I was trying to impress him.”

“You could’ve impressed him by just being yourself.”

“That’s sweet, Paige, but I don’t think so. Like Kayla said, my hobbies are boring. I never go out. I never do anything exciting. I never travel. So what was I supposed to say?”

She doesn’t respond.

“See? This is why I had to lie. And now if Grant finds out I lied about all that stuff, he’ll have no interest in dating me. My dream man will be gone from my life before I even had a chance to date him.”

“Morgan, you can fix this,” Paige says. “Just tell him the truth. Explain that you lied because you were nervous around him.”

“Yeah, like I want to admit that.”

“Just be honest. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Honesty’s overrated,” Kayla says. “I say you keep playing along and see where this thing goes. Maybe it won’t go anywhere. Did he seem interested? Did you get any clues about whether or not he has a girlfriend?”

“He didn’t mention a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one. But I don’t think he’d go out to dinner with me if he had a girlfriend. As for being interested, I couldn’t really tell. I mean, he paid for dinner and he walked me to the car. And he did suggest going out again.”

“That sounds interested to me,” Paige says. “Are you going out again?”

“Yeah. On Saturday. It was my suggestion. Another dumb move. I don’t know why I said Saturday. Now he’ll definitely assume it’s a date. He acted kind of weird when I suggested it. But he said yes, so we’re going.”

“Morgan, you know Grant’s going to eventually find out you lied to him,” Paige says. “So just tell him. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.”

“I know. I’ll tell him on Saturday.”
 

Later that day, I’m checking email and see Grant’s name pop up in my inbox. For some reason, I’m not feeling the surge of excitement I expected to feel seeing his name there. I think it’s because I’m dreading having to tell him the truth.

His email says he has an offsite meeting tomorrow and won’t be around. He asks me what we’re doing this weekend but I still have no idea. He leaves me his cell phone number so I can call him when I figure it out.

***

The next day at lunch, I search online for places to take Grant. I’m supposed to know this city and know all the local hotspots, but I don’t at all. I don’t go out enough. Kayla goes out all the time but she tends to hang out at bars or clubs, which is not where I want to go.

“Paige is going home sick,” Kayla says as she comes into our cubicle.
 

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I think she has the flu. Not the stomach flu, but the achy fever flu that lasts forever. I hope I don’t get it. She was coughing on me earlier.”

Paige walks in sniffling. “I’ll see you guys later. I probably won’t be in on Monday.”

“You need to go home, Paige. You’re infecting all of us.” Kayla’s covering her hands in liquid sanitizer. I find it ironic she’s so worried about germs given all the disgusting things she touches at the bars she hangs out at.
 

“I hope you feel better,” I say to Paige as she sniffles some more.

“Thanks.” She turns to leave, then stops suddenly. “The conference!”

“What?” Kayla and I say it at the same time.

“I totally forgot I’m supposed to go to that conference in Boston!”

“What conference?” Kayla asks her.

“That whole grains conference. It’s that one you turned down so you could go to the one in Miami last September.”

“Oh, yeah. Miami.” She nods, remembering it. “That was a great time. Had myself a Cuban. And I don’t mean a cigar.”

Paige sneezes again. “What am I going to do? I’m supposed to leave tomorrow. Lisa’s going to kill me. That conference costs a fortune and the plane ticket is nonrefundable. I have to go tell her I can’t go.”

I hand her the box of tissues from my desk. “Just go home. I’ll talk to Lisa.”

Lisa’s our boss and she’s really nice. She won’t get mad. Paige just worries too much.

“She’s gonna make you go in my place, Morgan. You know she is. You haven’t gone to a conference all year.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind going. It’s just for a few days.”

Kayla covers her mouth with a tissue. “Paige, would you please just go home?”

Paige sneezes. “Sorry, Morgan. I hate doing this to you. I know you were looking forward to seeing Grant tomorrow.” She starts coughing.

“I’m getting out of here.” Kayla races past Paige, still covering her face with the tissue.

“Paige, don’t worry about it. Grant and I will just go out when I get back. Now go home and get some rest.”

Paige leaves and I go talk to Lisa. As expected, she says I have to go to the conference in Paige’s place. I have to fly out tomorrow and won’t get back until Wednesday night. I send Grant a text letting him know we can’t go out on Saturday.
 

Too bad. Was looking forward to it,
he texts back.

Actually I’m kind of glad our date, or whatever it was, is delayed. I’m not ready to confess my lies to him. I’m actually considering taking up running and getting that volunteer job at the art center so I don’t have to tell him at all.

Friday night, while I’m packing my suitcase, Grant calls. This can’t be about work. It’s 8 and I’m sure he’s home by now.

“Hi, Grant.” I take my phone to the couch and sit down. “You need something?”

“Yeah. You.” He laughs. “I’m at a bar in St. Paul checking out a band and I’d love to have some company. Is there any chance you’d consider stopping by?”

I smile, because his tone and invitation clearly indicate he’s interested in me. And not just as a friend or a co-worker.

I haven’t answered, so he says, “If you’re busy, I totally understand. I don’t want to mess up your evening if you had plans. I just thought I’d ask.”

“Yeah, okay. I can be there. Tell me which bar.”

He gives me the address and as soon as we hang up, I change into skinny jeans and a white sweater and put on more makeup. I don’t have time to do anything special with my hair so I leave it down and straight, like I wore it to work.

A half hour later I arrive at the bar. It’s in a really old building with a loft-like ceiling and exposed brick on the walls. Round wooden tables are scattered about and the lighting is so dark it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. The place is packed, mostly with people around my age.

I see Grant sitting at a table in the back.

“Hey.” Grant gets up from the table when he sees me approaching. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure.” I smile at him.

Grant pulls my chair out for me and I take a seat, hanging my coat over the back of the chair.

“Can I get you a drink?” Grant sits next to me, facing the band. He looks really hot, wearing jeans and a casual button-up shirt left untucked.

I see that he has a martini and I point to it. “I’ll have one of those.”

He waves at the waitress. She comes over and he orders my drink.

“How’d you hear about this band?” I motion to the stage where two guys and a girl are playing jazz music. It’s not my favorite kind of music but the band is really good.

“I saw them in Omaha last summer. Then I found out they were playing here tonight and thought I’d stop by. But I felt kind of strange sitting here by myself.”

So is that why he invited me? Just to fill a chair so he wouldn’t have to sit alone?
 

The waitress brings my martini and I take a sip.

“Were you busy doing something when I called?” he asks.

“Just packing for the trip.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to see you before you have to leave tomorrow.” He turns toward me, putting his arm along the back of my chair. “I had a good time at dinner the other night.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“So you’re okay that I asked you out tonight?” He smiles. “I assume you are since you said yes, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with the whole mentor thing. There’s not some rule against it, is there?”

“Um, no. There’s no rule against it. At least, not that I know of.”

“Good.” He leans back, still smiling at me as he picks up his martini.

It’s official. This is a date. I’m counting it as our first date since he asked me out and it’s Friday night and we’re not talking about work. So only two more dates and we’ll have our third date? I am not at all prepared for that. Grant is really hot and he seems like a nice guy, but having sex with him after three dates seems way too soon, at least to me it does.