Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Xavier was stalling. Just a little bit, but he was definitely stalling.

Shaking his head at himself, he set aside the pile of paperwork that could have waited until tomorrow… or even next week.

Why, he asked himself for the umpteenth time, had he decided to get set up on a blind date again?

His doubts faded as quickly as they arose, however. For all that he was very nervous, he was also excited. It had been too long since he’d pushed himself out of his comfort zone, and the promise of doing so was rather exhilarating.

His comfort zone was just so comfortable though, he thought to himself with a rueful, self-deprecating chuckle as he pulled on his coat and double-checked that he had his wallet and keys. But if he was the kind of guy who only chose the easy route, he’d never have become a doctor, never would have built a practice from the ground up in this town. And those were parts of his life that he cherished, so it only stood to reason that making bold new strides could lead to greater happiness too.

He didn’t want to put too much pressure on this date, of course, but it wasn’t this date itself, he rationalized. It was more that he was proving to himself that he could try new things… and that would remain true regardless of whether tonight ended with him meeting the woman of his dreams or someone with whom he found he lacked chemistry.

He mused on these thoughts as he quickly headed home and took Coco out for a short walk. Coco once again showed that she was the most wonderful dog in the world by only showing a tiny bit of displeasure that they weren’t taking as long a journey as they often did, instead happily curling up on the end of his bed while Xavier took a quick shower and considered his wardrobe.

He stared at the closet for a long moment.

“Coco,” he said finally, addressing the dog where she lay with her head perched on her crossed paws, “we might have a tiny bit of a problem. I have no idea what to wear.”

Coco let out a sympathetic little whine.

“I know, I know—I sound like a character from a movie,” Xavier admitted. “Plus, I’m talking to a dog. None of this says, ‘Xavier Lofton is a competent professional ready to take the dating world by storm.’”

Coco stuck out her snout and tried to lick his hand. She was too far away, however, and only got air. She considered this for a moment, then laid her head back down in the unmistakable doggy version of a shrug.

Xavier laughed and closed the remaining distance between them, ruffling Coco’s ears. Then he turned back to the problem of his closet.

Somehow, he realized with a pang of dismay, his wardrobe had become entirely overtaken by the things he wore to work. Practical button-down shirts and comfortable, sensible slacks dominated the space. He had a small dresser, but that wouldn’t help him in this instance, since the only things he stored in there were worn t-shirts and athletic clothes that he wore to do work around the house.

Was he supposed to wear a suit on a date, or was that too formal? Should he wear a tie, or would that make him look too fussy? If he erred and went with a look that was too casual, would his date worry that he wasn’t interested in her?

He chuckled and shook his head at himself. Apparently, he’d completely forgotten how to dress for a date. If that wasn’t a sure sign that he’d been neglecting his romantic life for too long, he didn’t know what was.

He looked at Coco, who was blinking with increasingly drowsy eyes. She was headed for a nice nap, Xavier knew.

“I think we might have to admit the truth, Co,” he said to her. “It might be too late for this old dog to learn new tricks.” He indicated himself where he still stood, after several minutes of deliberation, in the t-shirt he’d hastily thrown on after his shower.

A glance at the clock told him he didn’t have too much time to deliberate. He grabbed one of his nicer shirt and slacks combos, figuring that he’d at least feel comfortable and confident even if he wasn’t hitting the perfect “date night” dress code. That had to count for something, right?

“I’m not sure what I got myself into,” he said to his dog, who was now clearly snoozing happily. “But let’s both hope that it’s something good.”

Emily put her hair up, frowned at the mirror, and put it back down again. Yes, that was better…

Except then she turned and saw the back of her hair. Was there always that one bumpy spot at the nape of her neck? She put her hair back up. Was this too serious? She was going to a date, not a business meeting. She eyed her curling iron. There wasn’t enough time for that, was there? Her hair was much longer than it used to be, after all.

Perhaps for the first time since leaving New York, Emily missed her no-nonsense, businesslike bob. It had been so simple to style it. None of this indecision had plagued her then.

Then again, running a business was very different from dating. Before everything had gone wrong, the boardroom had been a comfortable place for her, one where she knew the rules and was confident that she could play the game with the best of them. Even dating had been easier back then. She’d stuck with casual outings, a dinner here, a party there. She’d been far too busy for a serious relationship, and the crowds she’d traveled in hadn’t expected it. She’d been in more of a “see and be seen” kind of world instead of one where you sat quietly and really got to know one another.

And after the scandal had broken… Well, Emily hadn’t dated at all, then, too afraid that some seemingly nice guy who just wanted dinner was secretly looking for insider gossip that would end up splashed all over the internet. She’d been mocked enough—she didn’t need to get her hopes up only to have them dashed.

“That’s not going to happen here,” she told herself as she finally decided to leave her hair half-up, half-down, a casually cute look she never would have attempted in New York. She was reasonably confident in her own statement, as she didn’t think sweet Darla would set her up with anyone unkind but just thinking about New York had made the nervous knots in her stomach grow three times as tight.

She pushed the thoughts away. She would enjoy herself, darn it, she vowed. She would access the part of herself that used to enjoy dating, even when the romance was destined to fizzle out. Before she’d boarded up her apartment and taken on her self-imposed hermit status, Emily had enjoyed meeting people, had liked the spark of possibility that came from a new acquaintance.

A glance at the clock told her she’d let her thoughts drift for too long. She hurried back to her getting-ready routine, noting ruefully that her time in New York was still good for one thing, at least. She could put her makeup on perfectly in about two minutes flat, something she’d perfected from years of trying to put her last touches on a presentation before rushing off to meeting with this or that investor. She’d spent most of her time on the work and left the ‘getting ready’ part as long as she could. It was paying off now.

Another thing that worked in her favor was the total absence of traffic in Whale Harbor. She didn’t drive much since moving, given that nearly everything in town was walkable, and she’d never driven in New York, since it had been far easier to use public transport or take a taxi when she needed to go somewhere. Since that had left her feeling a little like she was learning to drive all over again, the easy road conditions in a small town were very welcome.

Plus, who liked traffic? Nobody Emily knew.

She drove carefully to The Blue Crab, a restaurant in town that Darla had promised had great seafood and desserts. It was, her neighbor had told her, a go-to for date night in Whale Harbor.

“I think you’ll hit it off with Xavier,” Darla had said with a wink, “but even if you don’t, I can guarantee you’ll get a delicious dinner out of it.”

Xavier Lofton, the town doctor. That was all that Emily had gotten from Darla in terms of specifics. The other information the woman had given her had been general. Xavier was promised to be kind, handsome, and thoughtful… though Emily knew those qualities could mean different things to different people.

She pulled up in front of the restaurant and put her car in park. And then she… didn’t get out of the car.

“Okay, Emily,” she told herself sternly. “It’s time to go.”

Her feet did not seem to want to listen to her.

She huffed out an impatient breath. She could see inside the restaurant from where she sat—one whole side of the building was windows, to best enjoy the landscape. It looked warm and bustling inside, happy without being too fussy. It seemed, as Darla had promised, like a perfect date location.

So why couldn’t Emily make herself go inside?

“Right,” she said, feeling like an absolute ninny for arguing with herself out loud. “Just get out of the car for now. You don’t have to go inside the restaurant.”

This, it seemed, she could do. And surely the cold air outside would push her to actually enter the eatery, right?

Wrong. Despite the winter air, even more frigid due to the proximity to the ocean, Emily stood outside the door, unable to push herself forward.

If this was her attitude, should she leave? She could message Darla and claim she’d gotten sick or something. It was a transparent excuse, but maybe it was better than making some nice doctor sit through her bad attitude. After all, if he was as good a guy as Darla had claimed, he deserved a good date too, not a night out with someone who was forcing herself to be present.

She had to make a decision quickly though. For one thing, her toes were starting to freeze in her cute but not practical for the weather shoes. For another, the illumination outside the restaurant meant that someone would see her soon enough. Backing out of a date with a cheap excuse was embarrassing enough—she didn’t need to get seen doing it as well.

She looked toward the appealing warmth of the restaurant one more time, trying to convince herself to stop being such a chicken, and paused. Was that…?

She blinked. Yes, the man inside the restaurant, fiddling with his fork in an unmistakably nervous ‘I’m waiting for my date to arrive’ kind of way, was the man that Emily had seen on the bench. The one she’d felt a strange urge to get to know.

Without any further convincing, her feet began to carry her toward the front door of the restaurant and then inside, where a blast of warm air welcomed her like a congratulatory hug for her bravery.

It didn’t feel like bravery anymore though. Now that Emily had seen whom she was destined to meet, she didn’t want to escape anymore. No, she thought, her heart stuttering in her chest, suddenly the idea of this date was one that sparked with hope.