I make a point of arriving at Luigiâs a few minutes early. But I donât go in, instead buying myself a latte at the coffee bar opposite, and seating myself in the window to watch.
Why am I nervous?
At five to eight, Ben appears around the corner. The rain has cleared, and he wears a plain white shirt, the top couple of buttons undone, and black jeans.
Niceâ¦.
He pops his head through the door to glance inside, then returns to wait outside, looking up and down the street.
Something feels unfamiliar about this. Of course, itâs been a while since I last had an actual dateâ¦.
Yeahâ¦. itâs a date. Not a meet-up for a quick fuckâ¦.
My stomach is fluttering, my throat tight as I swallow my coffee.
Donât be so damn silly. Itâs a date. Thatâs allâ¦.
Gulping down the last of my drink, I exit the cafe to cross the street. âBenâ¦.â
âAh, there you are.â He gives me a peck on the cheek, then, âI reserved a table for us. Shall weâ¦.â
Courtesy itself, he opens the door, gesturing me through first. At our table, he pulls out my chair to seat me, offers me the menu. He is a perfect gentleman.
But he never smiles. Thereâs something about him, a kind of grimness, thatâs a little off-putting.
Is he nervous too?
âGot yourself dried out alright?â he asks. âYouâre feeling okay? Not going to come down with anything?â
âIâm fine. I had a long soak in a hot bath. Itâs going to be a while before itâs pleasant being in the car though. You know what the smell of wet dog is like.â
âYeah. Itâs just the worst, isnât it?â And he laughs.
And with the laugh, his whole face changes, lighting up. Suddenly, from being a little ordinary, he is a strikingly good-looking man, his features transformed.
Wow!
âSomething wrong?â he asks, and I realise that I am gaping at him.
Embarrassed, âEr, no nothing. Itâs just that you look very different when you smile.â
He clicks his tongue; flashes his brows. âYouâre not the first to say that. My motherâs forever on at me to smile more. She says it makes me look more like my brother.â
âYour brother? So, thereâs more like you out there?â
He rocks his hand back and forth. âNo, not really. He was at the head of the queue when they handed out the good looks.â
âI think youâre underplaying yourself a bit. Youâre not bad-lookingâ¦.â
âYes, but thatâs as far as it goes, isnât it? âNot bad-lookingâ. He has women throwing themselves at himâ¦.â He stares down, paying attention to his meal.
Is he jealous? Of his own brother?
I try to lighten the mood, crack a joke. âEvery maidenâs dream, eh? Perhaps I should look him upâ¦.â
And he smiles again, his face transforming once more. âToo late. Youâve missed the boat. He got married recently.â He casts a speculative look over me. âIâm assuming thereâs no âMr Kirstieâ out there?â
âNo. Itâs just me. I opted out of that club a while ago.â
âWhy was that?â
âUmâ¦. mainly that my husbandâs girlfriend was pregnant. It put me off the whole relationship thing.â
He rolls his eyes. âYes, that would do it. How long ago was that?â
âA couple of years.â
âAnd, thereâs been no-one since then?â
What should I say?
âIâve been off the whole dating thing. Didnât want to get involved.â
He arches a brow. âThis is your first date since then?â
âMy first date, yes.â
Change the subjectâ¦.
âAnd thereâs no âMrs Benâ either, I guess?â
âNope. There was, but it turned out that she preferred my best friend to me.â He looks away, his mouth twisting.
âYeah⦠that would do it too.â
âShall we talk about something else?â
âGood idea.â
Take it easy. No hopping into bed on the first night with this oneâ¦.
He winds spaghetti around his fork, visibly casting for a new topic.
âSo, four dogs? Thatâs a lot. All rescues? They look a mixed bag.â
âYes, âThe Long, The Short and The Tallâ arenât they? Itâs not what I intended, but you canât turn your back on them can you?â
âNo, you canât. Scruffyâs a rescue too, or at least I assume so. I was out jogging on the beach one day and he just joined me; ran all the way up and down the front, right by my side. There was no-one in sight, so he came home with me. And no-one ever came forward to claim him.â He glances up at me;
cocks his head. âWhat?â
âItâs a nice story. I wish there were more like you about.â
He holds my eyes; swallows his pasta. âThereâs not too much wrong with someone whoâs kind to animals.â
Heâs not smiling, but the smile is there, behind his eyesâ¦
*****
âItâs been a great evening. Iâve enjoyed it.â
Benâs hand slips over mine. âEnough to do it again?â
âIâd like that.â
âCan I walk you home? Itâs dark. You shouldnât walk home alone.â
âIâd like that too.â
As we leave the restaurant, he takes my hand again, holding it as we stroll. Our pace is leisurely. I see no reason to hurry. He seems to feel the same way.
At my doorstep, I hesitate.
Do I invite him in?
No, play it coolâ¦.
âItâs been lovely.â
He hovers, then, âGood nightâ¦. Um, can I call you?â
âYou have my number.â
His smile blossoms again. A little awkwardly, he leans forward and kisses me on the cheek.
âGood night, Kirstie. Iâll be in touch tomorrow.â