Read Online The World: According to Rachael by Layne Harper - Free Book Online
Authors: Layne Harper
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next to each other, sharing a menu. She points to different items and makes suggestions. He smiles adoringly at her and hangs on every word that she says. I can’t keep the goofy grin from cracking my cheeks as I stare a heartbeat too long at them.
It looks like we’ve beaten Graham here. I’m thankful. The idea that I have a chaperone on a date makes me squeamish. Lou has accompanied me to plenty of hotels. It never embarrassed me like this “date” does.
I take a booth in the back right-hand corner of the restaurant. While Lou sits nearby at the counter, but is far enough away so as to not intrude.
Glancing at my wristwatch, I note that it’s 2:23 p.m . This is new for me. I’m not used to waiting. Everyone waits on me. A moment of panic washes over me. What do I do with myself while I wait for him? I decide to pull out my personal phone and play on it. This is also a foreign concept. I never have time to kill. Do I download a game? I look toward the counter of people staring at their phones and attempt to see what they’re doing. They all seem to be furiously typing. Are they answering emails?
I’ve heard about a game called Angry Birds . I purchase it, and start hurling birds at pigs. It’s actually kind of fun. Hmmm …
Fortunately, Graham doesn’t keep me waiting long. As if my cute boy radar goes off, I look up from my phone, where I was trying to decide if I wanted to pay for help on a level, to watch him enter the restaurant. I get an unguarded moment to observe him before he spots me. His looks are disarming. I’m not sure of his height, but he fills the doorway, blocking out the sun behind him. His hair is so dark the overhead lights of the diner cast it in a lavender hue. I remember seeing an Elvis Presley movie that had been color corrected. Graham’s hair reminds me of the King’s. His clear blue eyes scan the restaurant, and when they spot me, they twinkle. A small smile parts his full lips, and I find myself smiling back probably like one of his lovesick students.
He’s wearing casual clothes also—a pair of jeans and a button-up red shirt with a navy sweater pulled over. The guy could easily be modeling Ralph Lauren menswear instead of strolling towards me in this local diner.
“Good afternoon,” he says as he slides onto the bench across from me. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long?”
What I want to reply with is, “Being kept waiting was refreshing,” but that makes me sound very odd. Instead, I say, “Been here for about ten minutes. No big deal.” NO BIG DEAL! If one of my staffers kept me waiting ten minutes, I’d probably hand them their head on a silver platter.
“Good. I decided to take my black Lab, George, for a run this morning, and we lost track of time. I figure it’s Sunday. It happens,” he says nonchalantly while he picks up a menu from the table where it had been left by a waitress. “This place has great onion rings.”
I find myself watching him while he peruses the laminated plastic in his hand. It’s like I’m at the zoo for the first time, seeing an exotic animal from a different continent. Have I forgotten what normal feels like? “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten here, but I do remember the onion rings, and you mentioned them last night.”
He looks up from the menu and gives me a mischievous smile that makes his dimple pucker. “Here’s the deal.” He discards the menus, and takes my hands in his, giving them a light squeeze. “I’m going to kiss you before this date is over. We both go all in, and split a basket of rings so we have shared bad breath, or we abstain. Your choice.” He shrugs his broad shoulders and drops my hands as he picks the menu back up.
His words make my lips tingle, as if they’re remembering a kiss that hasn’t happened yet. Graham’s mouth is full and a gorgeous shade of strawberry-red as if he’s wearing lip-gloss with a hint of stain in it. Suddenly, I have a craving for a fruity milkshake.
It looks like we’ve beaten Graham here. I’m thankful. The idea that I have a chaperone on a date makes me squeamish. Lou has accompanied me to plenty of hotels. It never embarrassed me like this “date” does.
I take a booth in the back right-hand corner of the restaurant. While Lou sits nearby at the counter, but is far enough away so as to not intrude.
Glancing at my wristwatch, I note that it’s 2:23 p.m . This is new for me. I’m not used to waiting. Everyone waits on me. A moment of panic washes over me. What do I do with myself while I wait for him? I decide to pull out my personal phone and play on it. This is also a foreign concept. I never have time to kill. Do I download a game? I look toward the counter of people staring at their phones and attempt to see what they’re doing. They all seem to be furiously typing. Are they answering emails?
I’ve heard about a game called Angry Birds . I purchase it, and start hurling birds at pigs. It’s actually kind of fun. Hmmm …
Fortunately, Graham doesn’t keep me waiting long. As if my cute boy radar goes off, I look up from my phone, where I was trying to decide if I wanted to pay for help on a level, to watch him enter the restaurant. I get an unguarded moment to observe him before he spots me. His looks are disarming. I’m not sure of his height, but he fills the doorway, blocking out the sun behind him. His hair is so dark the overhead lights of the diner cast it in a lavender hue. I remember seeing an Elvis Presley movie that had been color corrected. Graham’s hair reminds me of the King’s. His clear blue eyes scan the restaurant, and when they spot me, they twinkle. A small smile parts his full lips, and I find myself smiling back probably like one of his lovesick students.
He’s wearing casual clothes also—a pair of jeans and a button-up red shirt with a navy sweater pulled over. The guy could easily be modeling Ralph Lauren menswear instead of strolling towards me in this local diner.
“Good afternoon,” he says as he slides onto the bench across from me. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long?”
What I want to reply with is, “Being kept waiting was refreshing,” but that makes me sound very odd. Instead, I say, “Been here for about ten minutes. No big deal.” NO BIG DEAL! If one of my staffers kept me waiting ten minutes, I’d probably hand them their head on a silver platter.
“Good. I decided to take my black Lab, George, for a run this morning, and we lost track of time. I figure it’s Sunday. It happens,” he says nonchalantly while he picks up a menu from the table where it had been left by a waitress. “This place has great onion rings.”
I find myself watching him while he peruses the laminated plastic in his hand. It’s like I’m at the zoo for the first time, seeing an exotic animal from a different continent. Have I forgotten what normal feels like? “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten here, but I do remember the onion rings, and you mentioned them last night.”
He looks up from the menu and gives me a mischievous smile that makes his dimple pucker. “Here’s the deal.” He discards the menus, and takes my hands in his, giving them a light squeeze. “I’m going to kiss you before this date is over. We both go all in, and split a basket of rings so we have shared bad breath, or we abstain. Your choice.” He shrugs his broad shoulders and drops my hands as he picks the menu back up.
His words make my lips tingle, as if they’re remembering a kiss that hasn’t happened yet. Graham’s mouth is full and a gorgeous shade of strawberry-red as if he’s wearing lip-gloss with a hint of stain in it. Suddenly, I have a craving for a fruity milkshake.
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