Like tonight… how I’d gone with my favorite pair of strappy stiletto sandals. Maybe I’d just stay sitting for now, until I got a better sense of the guy. Instead of getting up, I waved him over.
Mark smiled warmly as his eyes flicked up and down my outfit—I’d gone with something simple, my red sundress with a sweetheart neckline, and chandelier earrings. The look was the perfect combination of classy and sexy without looking like I was trying too hard.
I didn’t even need to try that hard, if digging through three boxes to find where I’d actually packed away my outfits didn’t count.
Mark took the seat across from me, and then immediately shot an impatient look at Sexy Bartender-David.
Without making eye contact, David put down the glass he was polishing, and meandered over with our menus.
Not gonna lie, I was a little tense that Mark was going to say something rude in front of the hot bartender, which would be unbearably embarrassing. Even if I wasn’t the one saying the rude things, Ihadagreed to go out with the guy. So, it would be like his decision kinda rubbed off on me somehow. Even though I wouldneverbe rude to my waiter, I’d be somewhat associated, as someone who was mistakenly attracted to rude assholes.
But no, our orders went off without a hitch. Mark got a burger, and I got a chicken salad, and Sexy David slipped away to give our orders to the chef.
Okay, so that wasn’t so bad. Maybe my date was just hangry?
Mark had a cocky grin on his face as he leaned closer to me. “So what do you bring to the table?”
“What?” For one second, my gaze flicked to the booth table as if it held some clues as to what things I was supposed to bring.
Wait, no. That was stupid. It wasn’t like I was supposed to bring like, forks and knives to a restaurant. Was I supposed to pack them in my little clutch bag when I was finished dining? Wipe them down and place them next to my little portable salt shaker from home?
No, eating out didn’t work like that.
So… why was Mark expecting me to bring something? Was this his first time dating? Did no one ever explain to him how this was supposed to work?
His cocky grin faltered somewhat. “What do you bring to the table, like what do you bring into a relationship?”
Oh.
Uh, I was the kinda person who could be counted on to arrive for a date on time, for starters. Not that I was going to say that.
What a weird question. Was this a job interview or a date?
I shrugged, like Mark hadn’t been vaguely insulting, asking me how I would bring value to the relationship.
“Okay.” So he thought it was normal to just demand that I prove myself to him. On a first date? This was stupid. “No one’s ever asked me that before. Could you tell me what kind of things you contribute?”
“Well,” Mark actually sat up straighter. “As a high-value man, I am a provider. Since I work in marketing automation and data, I have a salary that is a lot more substantial and reliable than the average guy you’d meet on these dating sites. Recently, I’ve invested in my stock portfolio. I’m looking at a growth index fund with the potential for a higher return than the broad market index.”
Mark was still talking. I couldn’t stop myself from zoning out. I twirled a strand of hair around one finger, staring over my shoulder into the kitchen. Hopefully, I looked like I was interested in dinner, and not scanning the room for David, as if catching sight of him could save me from this date somehow.
“Wow,” I said at the right time to make it look like I was paying attention—I’m not sure if I needed to bother. Mark seemed to be doing a fine job handling the entire conversation without any input from me at all.
It took every ounce of my focus to force my eyes from glazing over and pretend to care about Mark talking about how important his money made him.
God, I could barely keep it together during one date. How could this relationship have a shred of hope of going anywhere? Consumer discretionary,blah blah blah,health care sectors… Did he really think that this was a good way to get to know someone?
The conversation didn’t get any better when he changed the topic from finance either.
“I’m the kind of man with a high-value mindset.” Mark nodded. “It’s all about the kind of people I surround myself with.”
At least I had dinner to distract me. David had dropped it off, giving me one curious look as if he was checking if I was okay.
In fact, I was not okay.
I speared my lettuce leaves, chewing each one thoroughly. Anything really to divert attention away from this mess. Eventually, thankfully, Mark seemed to slow down from all the talking. He even managed to finish his meal, by kinda chewing and talking with his mouth full.
Great, no one was talking. There was no food. The bill was squared away. This was it—my chance to get away.
