4. Robert

Chapter four

Robert

It's Sara. The girl from the coffee shop. I hear her voice, unable to form any words.

I thought she would've tossed my number the second I gave it to her. But I guess things are different than I thought.

"This is a surprise," I begin, chuckling a little bit.

"Yeah, well, you gave your number to me. And I want to know why."

"Isn't it obvious? I wanted to apologize for being rude earlier. "

"Yeah, but you did that. What's the number for?"

"Because I thought about making things up to you."

"I mean, it was just one encounter. You more than made up," she reasons.

I know she thinks that, but there are other reasons for this.

"It's not easy for me to do this either, Sara."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, asking someone out and such."

The line goes silent. I know she's trying to figure out how to respond. I look around my office before turning on the desk lamp. It illuminates the place, so I'm not just sitting in a dull and dark place.

I'm used to it, but my assistant Rebecca hates it when I do that.

"So, you're asking me out," she reasons.

"If that's what you want."

"I mean…maybe? You're making this way weirder than it has to be."

"I'm not making anything weird at all," I retort.

"You kind of are! Like we met once, and you acted as if you hated my guts."

"It was an error of judgment on my part."

"You need to elaborate. It's like, a date, right?"

"Yes."

"Why, though? You clearly didn't want anything to do with me when we first met."

"Yes, well, that was an error in my own way. You intrigue me, Sara, and I want to make it up to you. It's a simple yes or no. Your choice."

I am waiting for her response. She takes a deep breath.

"I would like that. I just haven't dated in a long time."

"Don't think too much about it. It's just something casual. I just want to get to know you."

"Okay. I like that."

"I'm glad. So, what day works for you?"

"Let me look at my schedule. I'm guessing you work during the day."

"I can make time."

It's true. Any of the people who need to meet with me can wait. I don't have to meet with them at any specified time. The sound of rummaging echoes through the other line. She then speaks.

"Well, I have this weekend off. I'm not working my barista job nor at my other job."

Another job? I thought she just worked as a barista to pay the bills.

"Well, how does Saturday at eight look?"

"Great! But uh, where do you want to meet up?"

"I don't meet up at people's houses on the first date. Let's rendezvous at the coffee shop."

"Okay. That sounds fine."

"Great. I'll talk with you soon."

After I hang up, I realize that for the first time in who knows how long, I feel a strange feeling in my heart.

Excitement. Hope?

I've never felt this way since Maria. In the past, I've gone out with a few women in an attempt to forget about her. However, every time it ended up in interests that differed, or I felt nothing at all.

And yet, when I asked out Sara, I felt something deep in my heart. A little twinge of excitement, something foreign to me otherwise.

It probably won't turn into anything. I mean, I keep trying because I need to get Maria out of my head. I can focus on my business and on being by myself once I shut down those feelings.

And yet, despite thinking this, her presence lingers at the forefront of my mind.

I get up and sigh. I can't stay here. The clock shows after eight pm. Usually I stay here for another two hours during the week, but tonight I don't want to.

Locking up and heading out to the car I hear my phone buzz.

"Who now?" I mutter, grabbing it. It's Rebecca. What the heck does she want at this hour? I press the green button and then place my phone on the mount.

"What is it?" I start.

"Hey, Robert. Just wanted to see if that closing was filed yet—"

"It'll be done tomorrow."

"Oh. I see. Are you still at the office?"

"About to leave."

"A little early for you, don't you think?" he reasons.

"I needed to get out," I explain. "I don't want to stay here too late."

"Ah, finally setting boundaries. Something the rest of us need to do too."

A dry chuckle escapes my lips at those words. I'm not the only one with a bad series of habits when it comes to running a business.

"I'll be in tomorrow and get that done first thing."

"Very good."

I hesitate, wondering if I should ask her to do this.

"If you don't need anything more, I'm going to hang up and—"

"Wait a second."

I think about where to go. This is just a meager first date, but I want to take her somewhere special.

"What is it, sir?"

I purse my lips at his cheeky use of the word "sir," as it is her way of pushing my buttons and I chuckle. Rebecca takes care of all of my appointments. This includes personal engagements.

"Could you get me reservations for a place?"

"Uh, sure. Where, though?"

"The Ruxton."

"There? Are you meeting with an investor? Is there someone that I forgot to pencil in—"

"Relax," I chide. "It's a personal engagement."

"Oh. I, uh, see. This is different."

"It's just someone that I met. I doubt it will go anywhere, but I want to make sure she has a nice time."

"That's nice of you."

"I guess so."

"So the Ruxton . . . when?" she asks.

"Eight p.m."

"Okay. And what day?"

"Next Saturday," I rattle off. My voice cracks on the final syllable.

"Got it. I'll text you when I have those reservations in place, and good luck. I didn't know you were even on the market."

"I'm not. It's just apologizing for my actions," I reason.

"I see. Well, have a good evening, Robert."

"Likewise."

I hang up the phone, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of my chest. I clutch my hand over it as I take a deep breath.

What the heck's gotten into me? I never get like this, especially when it comes to dates. I'm so used to keeping everyone at arm's reach that I never get these kinds of feelings. And yet, when I think about our date, I feel something different.

Butterflies!

I close my eyes and shake off those thoughts. I don't get butterflies. In fact, I'm only doing this to appease my guilty conscience for being mad at her in the first place.

Back at my place I begin to head to my office, but instead of opening my computer to do a bit more work, I grab my phone.

There's one more thing I need to do.