Too Good to Be Wrong

April weaved her trolley away from him, glancing behind her to see him still staring at her. Her heart raced much like it did whenever Henry was around, though not as intensely.

“Wait,” the banana man said.

She paused, waiting for him.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me.” He left his trolley behind to walk up to her.

“You’re asking me out on a date?” she asked.

“Yeah, I know. I can’t even believe I’m asking you but there.”

“I don’t know your name.” She’d never before been asked on a date while at the grocery store.

“David Shaw.” He offered her a hand, which she took.

“April Robinson.”

He took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, April.”

Withdrawing her hand, she didn’t know what to do.

“So, that date?” he asked.

“Erm, I’d love to.”

He took hold of her piece of paper and asked one of the passing workers for a pen. “I can see you’re nervous about me, so here’s my number. When you’re ready to go on a date then give me a call.” He wrote his number down. “I hope to hear from you soon, April.”

The pen was given back to the worker, and then he was gone.

“I don’t know about you, honey, but that man is a fine piece of ass,” the worker said.

She chuckled at the look of appreciation on the woman’s face. “Yeah.” April finished her shopping before walking the short distance home. She kept the list of her groceries.

April sat at her kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal in front of her. In one hand she held a spoon, in the other the list with the phone number.

It’s time to move on.

Glancing behind her at the fridge she saw Henry’s numbers waiting for her.

No, she couldn’t think about him in that way. He never gave her any belief they were more than mere acquaintances. She needed to move on, and David looked like a good place to start.

She picked up her phone and dialed his number.

“Hello,” David said.

“David, hi, it’s April. Do you remember me? Banana lady.” She bit her lip as the words just melded together

Shut up.

“I’ve been staring at my phone waiting for your call, baby. So, how about that date?”

****

One month later

Henry stared at his computer screen wondering about April. He saw her regularly at the restaurant, but they never really got the chance to talk anymore. She hadn’t called him either, but why would she? He’d never given her reason to believe that he was looking forward to her call.

Closing down the document he was working on, he made his way out of his building. He wasn’t surprised to find that he was the last person in the building, barring security. They were there constantly on a rotation of staff. All of his employees went through rigorous training and thorough security checks before he allowed them to work for him. There were other companies out there who would steal his ideas and make life as difficult as possible.

He climbed behind the wheel of his car and headed toward the restaurant. It had been too long since he last saw April, and he needed to know that she was okay. Marcel gave him regular updates but they were not like seeing her in the flesh. He missed her constantly.

Entering the restaurant Antonio greeted him. “Would you like your regular seat, Mr. Jones?”

“Yes.”

The restaurant was booked solid, and Henry didn’t feel any remorse for taking the only available table for two.

He couldn’t see any signs of April and instead got a male waiter he didn’t know.

“I want to speak to Marcel.”

“Sir, our chef is very busy right now.”

“I don’t care. Tell him Henry’s here to see him.” What a lot of people didn’t know was he’d agreed to be the silent partner in this business. Marcel held all the talent in the kitchen, but at the time didn’t have the capital to put up for the place. Henry didn’t have the skills in the kitchen, but he possessed the money. They were friends, and so the restaurant was born and flourishing. He also got to eat whenever he wanted.

Marcel appeared beside him minutes later. “What can I do for you, my friend?”

“I wanted to know where April was.”

“Peter could have told you. It’s her Friday off.” Marcel took a seat, looking frustrated.

“How has she been?”

“You really don’t know what’s been going on in her life?”

“No, I don’t.” How did he admit to his friend that she hadn’t called him once?