One More Time
“No,” he scoffed. “It's just that I don't like seeing good people upset.”
“How do you know I'm a good person?”
A rueful smile touched his lips. “I'm good at reading people.”
“How very noble of you, Malcolm,” I said. “But, I don't need a white knight to come in and save the day. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know that, and it's one reason I enjoy talking to you,” he admitted and took a sip of his water, though his eyes remained glued to me. “You're so different from other women I've known.”
I rolled my eyes. “Because all women are just the same, and I'm the unicorn amongst them,” I said and laughed. “Come on, Malcolm, you can do better than that.”
“Fine,” he said. “I like that you aren't afraid to speak your mind and don't take crap from anyone. Including me.”
“Thank you. I think,” I said, a shy smile touching my lips.
“You're welcome,” he replied. “And yes, I meant it as a compliment.”
We finished with our meal, and I was a little embarrassed that I'd cleaned my plate off completely. Even more so, because Malcolm only ate about half his fries and a few bites of the burger. It made me think either he didn't care for the food or wasn't even hungry in the first place. “So, were you really looking at Tinder earlier?” I asked. “Because honestly, I find that hard to believe.”
“Not Tinder, no, but something similar,” he laughed. “Even I have standards.”
“Please, of course you do,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just the idea that you'd have to use a dating app to find a girl is crazy to me. I'd imagine that women throw themselves at you, Mr. Malcolm Crane, wealthy and attractive as you are.”
I meant it as sarcasm, but I realized too late that it came out more as a statement of fact. It was true though, even if I didn't mean to sound so smitten with the guy. Malcolm wasn't the type that would have any trouble getting a date.
“I'm not looking to date, actually,” he said as he frowned down at his empty water glass, swirling the ice around with the straw. “I'm not ready to date again. Not so soon, anyway.”
“Then why would you be on a dating app – unless –” my cheeks flushed and I didn't bother finishing my statement, since the answer was more than obvious. “Oh well, I guess there's other things you could be doing with women that doesn’t involve dating.”
He shook his head and gave me that crooked little grin of his. “Not looking for a hookup either,” he said. “In case you were wondering.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You're a really confusing man, Malcolm Crane,” I said. “I hope you know that.”
“Maybe I'm just a normal guy in a confusing situation,” he said, looking up at me.
His face was serious, his jaw tight. He wasn't smiling, nor happy about this conversation. That much was clear. Why, though? The contradictions and confusion about him left me reeling, and completely curious.
“I told you my predicament,” I said. “Now it's your turn.”
“I can't,” he said.
“Because then you'd have to kill me?”
He chuckled. “Something like that, yeah.”
The waitress cleared our table and didn't bother to refill our water glasses. There was no reason for us to stick around, but I could see that Malcolm wasn't in a hurry to leave. Neither was I. As rough a start as our evening got off to, I was enjoying spending a little time and getting to know Malcolm a little bit better. Which surprised me. A lot.
Plus, it helped take my
mind off the fact that I now had no job and no idea what I was going to do. Anything that would help take my mind off the current clusterfuck that was my life was a welcome distraction.
“Would you like a ride home?” he asked.
“I'll be fine,” I said, a little disappointed that our evening was coming to an end. “The train takes me right down the street from my place.”
“No, no train for you tonight,” he said, putting a wad of cash in the little black book with the bill.
It was more cash than it possibly took to pay the damn bill and yet, he'd tossed it in without even thinking about it. I don't even know that he actually looked at the bill. Our waitress was getting one hell of a tip.