Whatever You Do Page 3

  I’m glad I picked there for my first Internet dating meet up. I read you should always meet for coffee on a first date. This way if it’s awkward or you don’t like the guy, you only have to stay for one coffee. Dinner can last for up to two hours and is best for a second date. Well, according to the ‘How to Own Internet Dating’ article I read anyway.

  Brooke leads the way into the Argentinian restaurant. It’s a small establishment with a homey feel. The walls are stark white but covered in brightly coloured landscape pictures. The striking white linens really make the bright blue chairs stand out. It’s as if we’ve been transported straight to Argentina.

  “Brooke,” the old man greets as we walk towards the counter.

  “Fernando, how are you?” Brooke beams at him.

  “It’s so good to see you.” I try to understand his thick accent. “And you brought two more beautiful women with you.”

  My face breaks out in a goofy grin and both the ladies I accompanied have similar looks on their faces. There is nothing like a foreign accent to make a girl blush.

  Fernando chuckles. “Come on, ladies, I have saved the best seats in the house for you.”

  He leads us over to a table in the back corner of the small restaurant, laying our menus in front of us before placing our napkins on our laps.

  “I’ll go grab some water and I’ll return to take your order.” The little bald man retreats back towards the kitchen.

  We browse over the menus for a little while before Brooke turns towards me. “So, Harper, did you have a nice week off?”

  “Here you go, ladies,” Fernando interrupts, placing the water jug onto the table, and pouring it into each of our glasses. Once he has taken our orders, Brooke looks at me expectantly, obviously still waiting for the answer to her question.

  “Actually, I did.” Deciding to bite the bullet, I tell her. “I signed up for an Internet dating site. I’ve met a few great matches on there already.”

  Brooke’s face curves in a slow grin while Ruth’s eyes widen. “And how are you finding it?” Brooke asks, taking a sip from her water.

  “Great. I have my first date tonight.”

  “That was quick.”

  “Well, I think it’s lovely,” Ruth says, breaking the awkwardness that has descended upon us.

  “Of course, it’s wonderful,” Brooke insists, clearing her throat. “I just didn’t realise it would happen so quickly, that’s all. I hope you are being careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again so soon after what Aiden just did to you.”

  “Don’t worry. Honestly, I’m excited to start meeting people, but trust me, I won’t be falling so hard or so fast again. It has proven time and time again not to work out in my favour.”

  “Meeting people,” Brooke repeats with a sly grin. “Yeah, I bet you can’t wait to start meeting people.”

  “I don’t have to fall for them to meet with them,” I say, using air quotes.

  Brooke and I both crack up laughing, and Ruth clears her throat while staring us down.

  “Sorry Ruth,” “Yeah, sorry Ruth,” we both say at the same time, looking away from each other like two children scorned by their mother.

  Ruth nods and opens her mouth to speak when Fernando approaches the table, delivering our meals.

  “Okay, ladies, we have the beef and two chickens.” He places the food down where we indicate. “Please enjoy and call out if you need anything.” He gives us a suave smirk and a wink, and all three of us giggle like schoolgirls.

  “So, Harper, tell us more about this date tonight,” Ruth says as she sprinkles salt on her chicken dish.

  “Well, tonight I am meeting Carl. He is thirty-one and works in statistical analysis and data reconfiguration. He seems nice.”

  “Where is he taking you?” Brooke asks as she takes a huge bite of her pasta.

  “We’re meeting at Emilio’s Coffee Shop.”

  “What?” Brooke mumbles around a mouthful of pasta.

  “What?” I ask cautiously, my eyes darting around expectantly.

  “He’s not picking you up? Not taking you out for a nice meal at a fancy restaurant?”

  I explain to Brooke about the rules of first dates and going for coffee.

  “Hmm . . .” She purses her lips in thought. “I guess I’ve never really dated. Nate and I were so young, and you know Saxon and I had quite the unconventional start.”

  I nod and Ruth smiles wistfully just at the mention of Nate and Saxon.

  “So, are you nervous?” Brooke asks.

  “Maybe a little. Although, unlike you, I have done more than my fair share of dating.”

  Brooke laughs as Ruth leans over and rubs my arm. “I’m sure it will be fine, dear. Just try to enjoy it and take it slow.”

  I smile sweetly over at the woman who has become so important to me over the last few years. Since my parents live so far away in a small town and I don’t have the best relationship with them, it has been nice to have a motherly figure around. I am so glad to be working with her again.

  I think about how something so terrible as getting fired has led to something so great. To go from thinking the worst to be able to work with my closest friends and previously loved colleagues has been a blessing in disguise.

  With everything else falling into place and working out for the better, I am sure something wonderful is going to come from this Internet dating, too. Maybe Aiden cheating on me will lead me to something more exciting. Maybe finally lead to my happily-ever-after.

  As soon as the clock hit five, I ran out of the gallery. I’d spent the whole day thinking about my date tonight; I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  Sitting in the taxi on the ride home, my knee bounces up and down as I think about my wardrobe, full of all the new outfits I purchased last week, contemplating what I’m going to wear to the Italian café.

  Pulling up to the curb, I throw my money at the taxi driver and jump out of the cab.

  “Your change,” he yells out the passenger window.

  “Keep it,” I call back over my shoulder as I run into my apartment building.

  Entering the small foyer, I run past the mailboxes without checking for my mail and head straight up the stairs to my apartment on the first floor. Unlocking the front door, I toss my keys and bag onto the dining room table on my way to the bathroom.

  I shower, shave, and buff, although I don’t know why because I’m not planning on letting anything happen in that department. I put on a light layer of make-up, not wanting to look too overdone for a coffee shop, and straighten my hair.

  Running back to my bedroom, I make a beeline for the closet. Popping my head inside, I go for black leggings, my charcoal knitted dress, and black ankle boots. Once I’ve added some large gold hoop earrings and a long necklace, I’m ready to go.

  I’m a little early, so I decide to walk to the café instead of catching a cab. Grabbing my purse off the table, I head to the front door and get my bright-red winter coat and black scarf to wrap myself up. The temperatures have definitely cooled to jacket-wearing weather recently.

  After locking up my apartment, I make my way out and head towards the coffee shop. I planned to take a leisurely stroll but I find myself standing in front of the café in no time at all. It’s no big deal; I can have a coffee and make a game plan while I wait.

  A young couple enter before me and I follow them inside, smiling at the way they can’t keep their hands off each other. Maybe that’s how I’ll be leaving. I chuckle at myself in amusement and make my way to an empty table.

  Taking my jacket and scarf off, I drape them over the back of the chair before I sit down, and then see a shadow hovering over me.

  I don’t need to even look at the menu to know what I want. After having Emilio’s deliver to Argo nearly every day for lunch, I know the menu well.

  “A chai tea latte?”

  My head whips up to the waiter at the mention of my regular drink choice.

  Staring down at me, with a chee
ky grin, is a familiar face.

  “Tate,” I breathe.

  “Hi Daisy, long time no see.”

  “It’s been a while.” I smile, taking in one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen this close-up.

  Black hair, which used to be styled in a faux-hawk, is now in a crazy mess. His black polo T-shirt with the coffee house logo on the pocket pulls tight across his firm chest and muscled arms. Arms that have tattoos beginning at his knuckles and disappearing under the sleeves of his T-shirt.

  I wonder how far those tattoos go. Are his chest and back covered, too? I notice his black-framed glasses are missing, and without the distraction, his icy-blue eyes shine like crystals.

  “You guys get food poisoning from the food here or what?” His husky voice pulls me out of my daydream.

  “Sorry?”

  “You guys haven’t ordered lunch from here in months. Did we give you food poisoning or something?”

  “Oh, no.” I giggle nervously. “The business was sold six months ago . . . The new owners . . . They . . . They changed a lot of things.” I don’t know why I’m stumbling over my words. Men don’t usually make me nervous. Ever.

  Except for this one, apparently. Tate’s good looks—no, fantastically gorgeous looks—are almost too much to take. He has a beautiful, wide smile with perfect white teeth that make me instantly distrustful. I’m sure that grin has caused many a-panty to drop.

  “I see,” he says, while showing me his boyish grin one more time. “Want your usual? It is still your usual, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I smile shyly. “A chai tea latte, please.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He nods.

  I watch him saunter away, his perfect butt covered in those dark wash jeans. They’re tight enough that I can see his thigh muscles tensing as he walks. I notice those legs have stopped moving and look up to see not only has Tate stopped walking, but he is looking straight at me from over his shoulder.

  I quickly look away, but not before his perfect grin lines his face once more. Shit, totally busted. Oh well, I doubt I’m the first woman to be caught ogling him. It would be impossible not to.

  Checking my watch, I see I still have a little while before Carl arrives. I decide to check the emails on my phone. I have a few instant messages from some of the other guys I have been chatting with and decide to write them back while I have the time.

  DieselMan85: I think I love you ;)

  Yeah, right, delete.

  LoverBoy69: I’d like to strip you down and pour honey all over your body and feast like I’m a hungry bear.

  Ewww, delete.

  Just THE1fourU: Your cute, can we talk and get to know each other?

  Delete.

  Scuba1686: Hey, I checked out your profile and noticed we have an eerily similar love for cheesy 80s movies. I don’t know if this is a good thing or not?

  Mmm, this sounds interesting.

  I start writing back when the chair across from me is scraped along the wooden floor before a body seats itself and a chai tea latte is placed in front of me.

  “What are you doing?” I narrow my eyes at Tate.

  “I’m taking a break,” he says casually, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his own coffee.

  I look around the coffee shop but I’m not sure what for. I know Carl won’t be here yet.

  “Oh, so you’re not here alone. Waiting for someone?”

  “Yes, actually, I am.”

  “Boyfriend?” he says calmly.

  “Umm . . .” I don’t want to lie. “No, not a boyfriend.” I glance around the café, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

  “Date?”

  “Yes, it’s a date.”

  “From work?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Tate leans forward on his chair, placing his coffee down. He rests his elbows on the small wooden table and leans even closer towards me. “Is it a guy from work? Your date?”

  “Are you normally this forward with strangers?”

  “You’re not a stranger. We delivered your lunch nearly every day for years.”

  “Bobby delivered our lunch every day for years. You delivered it a few times one week when Bobby had his appendix out.”

  Tate chuckles as he leans back in his chair and gives me a smug smile. “So that makes you not a stranger. Come on, Daisy, tell me where this guy’s from?”

  I narrow my eyes at the use of the nickname I notice that he’s given me. Tate raises his eyebrows expectantly at me, and I glance around before leaning forward on the table and whispering, “I met him online.”

  Tate’s laugh is so loud it echoes in the open, empty space. When I’ve been here during the day, the café is full of noise, full of people from the surrounding businesses, all getting their lunch, but tonight only a few couples and groups of people sit around a few tables. It has a whole different atmosphere in the evening.

  “No way,” he continues, laughing. “Are things really bad enough you needed to try online dating?”

  “Yes . . . I mean, no. I wanted to try a different tactic, that’s all. Maybe try a different type of guy.”

  “Daisy, you are way too beautiful to need to find dates online.”

  I’m about to ask him why he keeps calling me Daisy, and tell him how Internet dating has become the norm, when a tall lanky body appears next to the table. Tate and I both look up at the stranger but his eyes are resting solely on me.

  “Harper. You are even more beautiful than in your photos,” the tall man coos.

  I smile awkwardly at the man I presume is Carl, seeing as he didn’t see it important enough to actually introduce himself, before looking back towards Tate. Tate’s face is scrunched up as he looks up at Carl. When Tate’s eyes finally meet mine, I tilt my head at him, and widen my eyes as if to say ‘get the hell out of here.’

  “Right, well . . .” he says as he jumps out of the chair and gestures for Carl for take it. “Can I get you anything to drink?” Tate turns to Carl. Tate seems a little shaken up, his usual cocky and smug demeanour nowhere to be seen.

  “A cappuccino, please.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I can’t help myself as I watch Tate walk away.

  Turning back to Carl I say, “It’s great to meet you. Thank you for asking me out.”

  “Thank you for agreeing to come.”

  I smile and nod, not speaking. With all Tate’s distraction, I didn’t get to focus on how uncomfortable first dates can be. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes as the sounds of the café surround us.

  “Cappuccino,” Tate says as he places the cup in front of Carl. “So, do you do this often?” He directs his question to Carl. “You know, online date?”

  My eyes widen at Tate’s way-too-forward question, but my gaze goes to Carl, curious for his response.

  “Actually,” Carl smiles over at me, “Harper is my two hundredth date.”

  I choke on the mouthful of latte I just sipped. Tate turns to look down at me with a grin. “Congratulations, Daisy. What an accomplishment.” He bites his lip, and I know he is trying not to laugh. How humiliating.

  I tune out as Carl orders his meal. Two hundred online dates. What does that say about him? God, I hope I don’t have to go on two hundred dates before I find the one. What if I never find the one?

  “Harper . . .” Tate calls. I slowly lift my eyes to him as my thoughts come back to earth. “What did you want to order?”

  “Order?” I frown.

  “For dinner,” Carl interrupts pulling my eyes to him.

  My mouth opens and shuts like a fish, but nothing comes out. He is completely foiling my plan of coffee-only, my new number-one dating rule. I totally forgot Emilio’s had a dinner menu. Shit. How am I going to get out of this?

  “I thought we were just meeting for coffee?” I sound like an idiot, and from the corner of my eye, I see Tate’s face light up, no doubt enjoying my awkwardness.

  “Oh well, it is dinnertime and this is a date,�
� Carl responds casually.

  “Exactly.” I nod, as if he should know the rule, too. Already too humiliated to push my coffee-only rule anymore.

  “So, order.” He gestures towards Tate, who is waiting with a notepad.

  Shit. I give Tate a tight smile. His face is plastered with a shit-eating grin, and I roll my eyes, causing him to chuckle.

  I snap out my order to him, and then settle back in my seat and give Carl all my attention. Well, not before I take a quick glance at Tate’s butt walking away again. Please, I’m only human.

  Carl and I chat casually about boring topics like the weather while we wait for our meals.

  Even though my rule has been obliterated, my mouth has begun to water even before Tate places my food down in front of me. I am starving and the chicken parmigiana smells so good. So good that, for the first time, my eyes don’t follow Tate as he heads back to the kitchen.

  “So,” I start, “two hundred online dates; that’s a lot. Did you date much before you went online?”

  Before Carl answers, he reaches over and takes a fry off my plate. “Yeah, two hundred. I have been online for a few years now. What about you?”

  I stare, my eyes wide as I watch him eat the stolen fry. “You are my first online date, actually.”

  Carl leans over again and this time grabs two fries off my plate. What. The. Fuck?

  “Wow, a newbie. How are you finding it?” he says, as he shoves my fries into his mouth.

  I know what’s going to come next so I quickly answer him. “Yeah, great,” I say, before I pick up three fries and shove them into my mouth, followed quickly by another two fries. The heat of the fresh fries burns my mouth, but I don’t even care.

  He leans over and once again grabs two fries. It takes everything in me not to stab his fingers with my fork.

  There’s no way he’s eating all my dinner. I begin shovelling fries in my mouth. I stab furiously with my fork, picking up as many fries as I can before trying to fit them all in at once.

  Carl leans over again and mustn’t see the glare I give him as he picks up a piece of my chicken and pops it between his lips. “Mmm,” he mumbles as he eats my chicken. My freaking chicken.