“Lizzie, I can explain.” With wine dripping from his hair, Timothy stands up. “I told you, it’s hard to date in my line of work and—”
“Save it.”
I turn, but he grabs my arm. The next thing I know, Ethan is towering behind me. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let her arm go.”
Timothy’s lips pinch together in a tight line. He’s probably not used to taking orders from anyone, but Doctor Douchebag follows Ethan’s command.
I ignore the stares and murmurs as Ethan leads me back to my table. “I’m sorry about the mess,” I say, dropping onto the chair. The food is still steaming hot and looks yummy. It’s a shame I won’t be eating it.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ethan pushes a bundle of silverware toward me and smiles. “Eat. It’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Lizzie.”
I eat in silence. Ethan refills my water three more times, and when I’m stuffed full, he approaches my table and sits down, sans the grey vest he had been wearing earlier.
“Officially off the clock, huh?”
“How’d you know?”
I nod toward the vest in his hand. “I used to be a server.”
He smiles knowingly. “How was the food?”
“Delicious
.”
“Next time, you should come here by yourself and let me buy you dinner.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Absolutely not. That would be rude after what happened to you tonight. Plus, asking you out gives you the chance to say no.”
I grin. “You’re smooth…”
Ethan smiles and hands me a piece of paper. “Just in case you decide to take me up on the offer,” he whispers before standing and walking away.
I look down at the yellow Post-it Note.
Not every guy is a dick. Let me prove it to you.
Below the scribbled handwriting is his number.
Smiling, I shove the note into my purse and then pull out my phone and text my sister.
Me: It’s time to find a new OBGYN.
Her reply is instant.
Emily: Damn. That bad?
Me: Worse.