“I have perfect dental health, thank you very much.” I pick up the rose from the vase in the middle of the table, spinning it between my fingers. “There’s this invention called the toothbrush. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It might be a little above your medical pay grade, though.”
Tyler lets a slow breath out through his nose. He shakes his head. “You know what surprises me?” I raise my eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. “For someone who likes fruit snacks, you’ve got an expensive taste in pasta. I thought you’d enjoy thedelicacyof SpaghettiOs over lobster ravioli.”
“Don’t you dare insult my SpaghettiOs.”
“I’m simply making an observation.” He runs a hand through his hair, but one rogue curl still remains on his forehead. “I’m also surprised that Aunt D ever thought we’d be a good match.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue with someone who can’t recognize the brilliance of foods like SpaghettiOs and fruit snacks. “We can at least agree on one thing: Darla is crazy for thinking we could be each other’s happily ever after.” He stares blankly at me. “Her words, not mine.”
He raises his glass of water toward me, and I clink my Diet Coke to it. “I’ll drink to that.”
We both sip our drinks and set them back on the table. Neither of us speaks, and once the silence becomes deafening, I can’t stand it anymore. “So, do you come here often?” I laugh nervously. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a first date. I chide myself. Not that this is a date. It’s definitelynota date. Just a dinner between a boss and his employee. Two colleagues eating together.
“At least twice a month.”
“Let me guess, you order the same thing every time?”
“I know what I like.” He says it in a way that leaves much room for interpretation while looking directly at me. I blush as I notice his eyes for the first time. They’re a beautiful shade of green, like the color of the buds at the beginning of spring bursting forth from the ground. Of course, he has the rarest eye color.
Brushing some hair behind my ear, I break eye contact.
“Do you usually eat out or at home? I know you can make a mean Caprese chicken, but I can’t imagine you had much time to cook when you worked four jobs,” Tyler says.
“Mostly at home. I have Taylor Swift to keep me company while I cook after a long day of work.” I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “I sometimes grab food out on the way home if I didn’t make it to the grocery store that week. Also, anytime I’m feeling sick or sad, I grab a Hot Brown sandwich. My mom always got me them growing up, and they became my ultimate comfort food.” I laugh. “I know it’s very Louisvillian of me.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a Hot Brown.”
I gasp. “How long have you lived here?”
“Four years.” He leans back in his seat, looking more at ease with the flow of conversation. “But three of those were during my residency, so all I did was eat, sleep, and breathe work. Then one of my colleagues retired as the head pediatrician at Little Louisville Pediatrics, and I got the job. I jumped from one kind of busy to another, so there wasn’t much time for exploring the area or trying new things. I tend to stick to what I already know I like since I don’t have time for much else.”
“Like ordering the same dish at an Italian restaurant every time you come and dropping off flowers to your great-aunt on Thursdays after work?”
“Exactly.” As quickly as the word is out of his mouth, Tyler shoots me a quizzical look. “Wait, how did you know I get Aunt D flowers every week?”
“I saw them in her room when I helped her with the duck fiasco, and she told me about you. You know she’s kind of your wingwoman, the way she talks you up.”
“Don’t encourage her.” He laughs. “If Darla heard you call her that, I’d never be able to escape her matchmaking attempts.”
“Then I should definitely tell her,” I tease.
His eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I wouldn’t stoop that low. Even for you.”
“I’m touched.”
The waiter returns with our food. I inhale the garlicky notes of the cream sauce, and my mouth waters. Tyler’s plate looks exactly how I imagined it: healthy.
I take a bite of ravioli and hold back a moan.
“Good, right?” Tyler smiles at me. I’m not sure when we started being nice to each other, but I’ll enjoy the civil conversation while it lasts.
“Delicious.” I wipe my mouth with a cloth napkin, making sure I don’t have any sauce on my lips. “So, where did you live before you moved here for your residency?” I dive back into my pasta while he talks.
“I grew up in a small town in Northern Alabama. I got my undergrad at The University of Alabama and went to medical school at The Ohio State University before landing at The University of Louisville for my residency. I originally planned on doing my residency at Johns Hopkins, but my sister lives here. When her ex-husband left them a few months before I was supposed to start my residency, I changed my plans to be near them so I could help as much as possible.”
Anger stirs up in my stomach at the thought of someone leaving Evie. “I always wondered what happened to Evie’s father, and now I’d love to meet up with him in a dark alley. Just to…talk, you know?”
