We exit the building and I glance up. It’s already dark.
“I should have stepped outside today,” I smile. “I’m afraid I missed it.”
I love the longer days we have in the summer, so the shorter daylight hours of a Pacific Northwest winter can be brutal. It’s still dark when I arrive on campus, and dark again when I leave.
“How about I pick you up at seven?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“I’ll see you then.” He gives me a small wave after depositing me at my car.
Knowing Ted, he’ll want to go to the bistro near the university. That works for me. They make the best cheese and spinach ravioli.
By the time he arrives to pick me up, I can almost taste those raviolis.
“Thank you for this,” I say as we walk to his car.
“Anything for you, Lucy,” he replies as he holds my door open.
Once he’s inside the car, I notice he’s wearing a suit. My mind has been so focused on Cody every minute that I didn’t even notice how dressed up Ted is.
Surprised, I ask, “Wait, where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
I glance at my tan pants and sweater. “I’m underdressed, aren’t I?”
His eyes sweep over my body. “You look great.” When they flicker back to mine, I swear I see heat in his stare.
For a moment, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. But then he gives my shoulder a squeeze.
“I’m glad we’re friends. It’s great to have someone to talk to about university politics.”
I exhale happy he said friends. I must have imagined the heat.
After a short drive in silence, he parks on the street near my dry cleaner and nowhere near the bistro. Damn it. I really wanted those raviolis.
I meet him at the back of the car, and he takes my hand, leading me down the sidewalk. Why is he holding my hand? I think how to take it back without simply jerking it back.
“There is this great new restaurant I’ve been wanting to try. And here it is.”
I glance up.
‘Steak Your Claim’
The sign is lit up in bright green neon. I’m not familiar with this restaurant, but the scent of grilled meat wafts through the air and I realize how hungry I am.
He holds open the door. This is my chance to get some distance. I pull my hand back as I step inside. Though, I have to squint to see where I’m going; the lighting is very dim.
“Two please,” he tells the hostess after he follows me in.
She leads us to our table, toward the back, and gives us menus.
“I’ve never been here,” I say.
The fare basically consists of twelve types of steak. I had no idea there were that many, but here we are. I flip the page and find they also have a couple of salads. The blue cheese steak salad actually looks great. I set the menu down as the server arrives.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks.
