“I was wondering if you were going to call.”
“I just got back in town. Are we doing this or what?”
“Can we talk?”
“When? Where? What are you doing this afternoon? You want to meet for a drink. Anywhere but Ciro’s.”
She was waiting in a booth, a glass of water in front of her. I sat down. We looked at each other. I nodded.
I didn’t waste words. “Are we going to feel each other out? Is there something you want to say? Do you want to do this?”
“I want to do this.”
“Which is what? What do you want to do?”
“You don’t give me much room, do you?” I thought she might lose it. She closed her eyes for a moment. “Am I supposed to say I’m sorry. You tell me what I’m supposed to do.”
I pulled on the end of my nose, smiled to myself, leaned forward and said, “You’re supposed to make me fall in love with you. You did it once. That’s both good and bad. I mean . . . I know most of your gimmicks, so you may have to work a little harder, but then again you know a lot of what I like so you sort of have a leg up.” I looked at her, the challenge as obvious in my eyes as in my words.
With absolute sincerity, she said, “How do I make you trust me?”
“Wow,” I pressed my lips together as though deep in thought. “Wow. This is our first date. Trust is something you build. You have to earn trust.” I played my best card. “I know you had some cheating issues in the past and, well to be honest, I have some issues with being cheated on . . . but you know,” I lifted my hand and let it flop on the table, “it’s funny how life works. You see how it goes.”
Sherry was quiet. I could see her thinking. I waited.
“I’m not as easy as you may have heard,” she said.
“Really? I heard you were pretty much a sure thing.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m looking for a substantial relationship. If you just want sex, I’m not the right girl.”
I raised my eyebrow. She cocked her head, holding her water glass with both hands.
“Do you like what I’m wearing?” She lifted one arm to indicate her blouse and skirt. “I just got it. My ex-husband cut all my clothes to pieces. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe.”
“Very nice. It looks good on you. You ex sounds like a real jerk.””
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I guess he didn’t like my clothes.” She leaned toward me. “You know, there was one good thing about him.”
“Just one?”
“More than one, but this one was very important.”
And what would that be?” I leaned forward.
“He was an excellent kisser.” We were almost touching. “I couldn’t be interested in any guy if he couldn’t kiss at least as well.” She tilted her head. We were inches apart. “I just couldn’t . . . ”
The words hung in space as our lips met, as our mouths joined, as our tongues touched. A slow, gentle, loving kiss. A good first date kiss.
We lingered in the space we shared, then Sherry leaned back and stretched. I did the same. She smiled as her eyes twinkled. “This,” she said, “is going to be so much fun.”