The Professional

Chapter 3

The rest of the weekend passed with nothing notable happening, mainly because I was wallowing in self-pity. I ate the rest of the ice cream that Lana had left behind and cuddled on the couch ensconced in blankets and surrounded by cushy pillows. When Monday finally rolled around, I was reluctant to leave the safe haven that I had made of my couch, but I knew that I had spent too long in my pity party. I got ready for work and made sure to spend extra time on my hair and makeup to make sure that I looked better than usual, thinking that the extra time spent might lend me a bit more confidence to face the world.

While the idea behind looking my best to face the world was good in theory, my compromised emotional state made the plan fall flat. The day passed with nothing of note really happening, and I just wanted to be back on my sanctuary of a couch swallowed up in my blankets so that I wouldn’t have to face the world. I wanted to bury my head in my pillows and sleep away the ache that still resided in my chest, but I reminded myself constantly that I was overreacting. Phillip and I were nothing and would never be anything, even friends. Mrs. Jennings made sure to keep me constantly busy double checking that everything was perfect for the McWate wedding, and I was pleased with the distraction. The only problem was the mind-numbing tedium of the task lent plenty of time for my mind to wander to a certain man who had always seemed to consume my thoughts, and every time he popped in my mind, I wanted to slam my head down on the desk until he vacated his spot in both my heart and my mind. I had enough sense to know that that kind of behavior would be unprofessional on my part, so I refrained from violently removing “the douchebag”--as Lana had dubbed him--from my life.

By the end of the day, I was physically exhausted and twice as emotionally exhausted as I had been that morning, and I could hear my blankets calling to me from my desk. As I began packing my things to go home, Lana walked up to me with a smug look on her face. That look always spelled trouble for me.

“So, guess who has a hot date tomorrow.”

Crap. I had forgotten about agreeing to go on that stupid blind date.

“Um, you?”

“No. Guess again.” I looked down at my desk and kept getting my things together, refusing to play her game. “That is right! You.”

I sighed, knowing that I could no longer play the ignorance card. “Lana, I know that I agreed to this, but judging from how I handled today, I am no where near ready to start dating. I am head-over-heels for a guy that I never even dated. I think I was just overconfident the other day because I was so emotional.”

“No. I am not letting you weasel your way out of this one. You are going to go on this date.” I looked up at her with my best impression of puppy eyes, but she refused to be swayed. “Just go on this one date. If it doesn’t go well, fine, but you need to get out there and stop making excuses to hang around you apartment pining for an engaged guy.”

I hung my head dejectedly and nodded weakly in agreement. I knew that I really did need to get out into the dating field, but it was so much easier to live in my isolated life with few emotional risks. Lana squealed like a schoolgirl, and I couldn’t help laughing at her reaction, instantly feeling better because of her excitement.

“Okay, okay! Don’t freak out about it.” I stood from my desk, gathered my things, and headed toward the door with Lana hot on my heels, but just as we exited the building I came to a standstill on the sidewalk. “Oh god! What am I going to wear?”

“Oh, good question. Wear that cute blue dress that has the capped sleeves.”

“Perfect. Where am I meeting him? What is his name?”

“Mitchell Ryan; Asiago at 6.”

--

I spent the whole day worrying my bottom lip and caused my lip to bleed several times, and as I sat at the bar of Asiago, I compulsively checked the time on my watch. I got to the restaurant fifteen minutes early because I was so nervous. I have been on a few blind dates by now, but I hadn’t really gone into the date with the hope that things would work out. In the back of my mind I still had the vague idea that Phillip and I would work things out, but I found myself hoping that Mitchell Ryan would be the man of my dreams--that I could finally find someone to replace Phillip in my heart.

Glancing down at my watch, I saw that it was finally six o’clock, and I held my breath as I waited for the door to open. Nothing happened as I stared at the entrance. When my lungs began burning and begging me for air, I gasped for breath and turned away from the door. I tried slowing my heart rate as fear of being left at the bar all night began creeping into my mind. The ambient noise of the restaurant faded as I focused on my breathing and heart rate, but the faint squeak of the front door’s hinge and the rush of air from the door’s movement seemed like the loudest noises in the small restaurant. My head whipped in the direction of the door, and my brain quit functioning.

He was gorgeous. If this was the man that Lana set me up with, he must be blind. No way does a man this gorgeous settle for a girl like me. He was tall without being overbearingly so. His hair was a gentle brown that was swept back from his face in a stylish manner, and his suit fit him just right, hinting at a terrific body underneath. I just knew that he couldn’t be the guy Lana was telling me about. I knew that she couldn’t be stupid enough to miss the glaringly obvious fact that there was no way we would work together. As I continued to watch this amazing guy who was undoubtedly here to see someone else, he began scanning the restaurant looking for his companion, and I seemed to be frozen by his handsomeness. I couldn’t look away even as I knew that his eyes were about to make their way over in my direction and could only hope that he would overlook the creepy girl staring at him. He had to be used to being stared at by now with his fantastic looks and everything. Girls probably drooled over him all the time.

His eyes progressively made there way in my direction, and I sat there frozen. When his eyes finally landed on me, they stopped, and he watched me for a moment before letting out a brief smile and heading in my direction. I sat on the bar stool stupefied and just stared at him as he made his way over toward me, and knowing that his date was probably sitting just behind me, I finally found the willpower to rip my eyes away from what was human perfection and watch my hands as they folded in on themselves in my lap. His steps sounded light but confident, and I listened to his footsteps as I waited for him to walk past me. I tensed when he was right beside me and waited for the following footfalls to tell me that he had passed me, but nothing ever came. No footsteps past. No greeting beside me to suggest that he and his date had met halfway. I just sat staring in my lap like a middle school girl waiting for a hot boy to pass her so that she can keep on watching him.

“Tatianna?” My back shot ramrod straight as a male voice sounded beside me. I was scared to look and see who was speaking to me, but I kept reminding myself that this was my chance to get over Phillip forever. I was so embarrassed to have to face this guy after staring at him like a buffoon, but I would not wimp out now. I looked over at him and returned the gentle smile that greeted me, though mine lacked the confidence that exuded from the man I presumed to be Mitchell.

“Call me Anna. You must be Mitchell?” I tried to keep my eyes trained on his, but I had never been good at talking to boys, especially boys whom I thought were attractive. I waited in anticipation, still believing that he would say that I had to wrong guy and that I needed to stop staring at him.

“Yeah. Lana has told me so much about you.”

“Oh, then, you must want to walk out the door right now,” I said half-jokingly. I felt a thrill go through me as he laughed enthusiastically at my joke.

“The opposite is true actually.” I flushed to the tips of my toes at his comment, and the power of speech fled me. “Why don’t we go grab our table?”

Mitchell offered me his arm, which I took as I eased myself off of the barstool. My knees were still a little wobbly from nerves, his looks, and his words, but I tried my best to conceal that fact and not lean too much on his support. I was suddenly very conscious of all of my shortcomings physically. My hair was uncooperative; my stomach protruded, and the dress did nothing to hide that; my skin was oily; my thighs were huge. The list went on and on, and standing next to this man who was by far one of the most gorgeous men that I had ever met, I was more aware of all of my insecurities. I could see girls who were on dates stealing glances at my companion and then shooting judging glances at me, and I tried to ignore the scoffing looks that were thrown in my direction--or at least it seemed that way to me.

We walked up to the hostess, and Mitchell greeted her congenially, “Good evening. Table for two. Ryan.”

“Yes, sir. Right this way.” Luckily, she did not seem to give Mitchell the slightest glance, and I was at least grateful that I would not have to endure her condemnation tonight. She lead us toward the back of the restaurant to a little table for two. Mitchell gently pulled his arm from mine and pulled my chair out for me, and I stared at him as if he had two heads. No guy had ever pulled a chair out for me before, and I never expected anyone to. I sat in the seat that he had indicated for me and waited for him to sit across from me. The hostess handed us our menus and bid us goodnight, leaving me alone . . . with a guy . . . a super attractive guy that I was sure that I would be too flustered to talk to.

“So, Anna, Lana tells me that you work at J&M Weddings with her?” He began looking over the menu. I was a little sad that I couldn’t just stare at his beautiful face, but I was a little grateful because it made me feel as if I could talk with him.

Following his lead, I brought my menu up to begin looking over the selections before I responded.

“Yes. I am Mrs. Jennings’ secretary. Where did I meet Lana?”

“Through Taylor, her boyfriend. I work with him, but we are close friends.”

“Where do you work?”

“Moore & Sons Financial Group. Nothing glamorous, but it pays well.”

“So you don’t like working there?” I put my menu down when I had made my decision about what I wanted to eat and when I felt comfortable enough to face him without a solid wall in the way.

“Oh, I love it, but I don’t wish to bore you with all of the technical details. Most times people don’t really want to hear what I do.” I couldn’t say that I was really interested in hearing about his job, but I would listen if he wanted to talk. I got the feeling that he didn’t feel like talking about it though, so I didn’t know where to take the conversation. An awkward silence descended, and we both sat there not really sure what to do. Luckily, the waiter came to take our drink orders, breaking the tension only slightly. The dinner continued in much the same way with light conversation peppering the silence.

I felt a little awkward eating in front of someone that I didn’t know, but that was a discomfort that I was used to having to face. Being on a date with a gorgeous companion, on the other hand, was more that a little disconcerting, making me feel off balance, and he didn’t seem to be doing any better on the comfort level, though for a completely different reason. I wanted to say something charming and witty and charm him with a sparkling personality that I lacked, but the introvert in my head was screaming at me to keep my mouth shut. The saying my dad had always told me ringing in my head: “It is better to keep quiet and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and prove it.”

Mitchell looked down at his watch and nervously cleared his throat. Instinctively, I knew what he was going to say next, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. “I have to be at work early tomorrow morning . . .”

I knew where this was going, and it would have been better if he had just stood me up. It were as if he was waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass until he could ditch me.

“I get it. I will just be going then.” I began to stand up, but he stopped me.

“No. Please let me explain.” I sat on the edge of my seat ready to leave whenever he was done with his little explanation. I wondered what excuse he would use to get out of this date. I had heard some pretty inventive ones. “I didn’t even want to come to this date tonight. s**t, that didn’t come out the way that I intended.”

He didn’t deny that that is what he mean though, so that just crushed my heart a little more.

“Look, Mitchell, you don’t owe me an explanation. You aren’t interested I get it. I will just be going.” I shot out of the chair and headed for the door before he could say or do anything to make me stay there with him without even feeling guilty about leaving him with the bill. I really didn’t want to hear him lie to me about why it wouldn’t work out. Honestly, I knew that our date wasn’t going well, but I still hadn’t written him off yet. He apparently wrote me off the moment that he saw me, or maybe even before that. The chilly night air hit me like a brick wall, knocking a couple tears loose that I thought I had managed to keep at bay. I wasn’t just crying over Mitchell. I was crying over Phillip and Mitchell and the life that I would inevitably live alone and so many other things that had gone wrong in my life.

“Anna! Anna, wait!” I kept walking, hoping that Mitchell would get the hint and leave well enough alone, but he didn’t seem to understand. A few seconds later I heard pounding footsteps approaching and felt a hand grab my arm and gently begin pulling me to face Mitchell, but I tried resisting. “Anna, please. I really do need to explain. It has nothing to do with you.”

He was going for the ‘It’s not you; it’s me.’ speech. I grit my teeth and kept myself facing away from him. I just wanted to say whatever it was that he needed to say so that I could go home and forget that this ever happened.

“Anna, I--I--I’m--I tried to tell Lana that this was a bad idea. I told her that I couldn’t go on a date with you, but I didn’t tell her the reason. I was afraid to tell her that I--I--I’m . . . gay. I can’t date you because I am gay.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. Lie after lie from guy after guy. Excuses of why things wouldn’t work out with me. I exploded. I whipped around to face Mitchell and just yelled at him.

“Are you freaking serious? You expect me to believe that crap. Like I haven’t had guys lie to me before. I will say though that yours is the most original. Not many men would lie about their sexuality to get out of a date. I am tired of being lied to! If you weren’t interested, all you had to do was tell me. I would have been upset, yes, but I would have gotten over it! I don’t see why guys think that lying is better than just telling girls the truth!”

Mitchell just blinked at me owlishly, and I growled in frustration and turned on my heels to leave. Uproarious laughter behind me caused me to turn around to face Mitchell who had his head thrown back from the force of his laughter. Anger began to build up inside of me because I felt as if he were laughing at me.

When he had finally composed himself enough to speak, he said, “Out of all of the reactions I expected to get the first time that I told someone, I didn’t expect that to be it. I like you. I am going to keep you around.”

His reaction surprised and startled me, making me question the validity of my perception, and I didn’t know what to say in response. With anger still bubbling under my skin because of the perceived injustice of my situation, I turned and stomped off in the direction of my apartment, but he quickly caught up to me and slung his arm over my shoulders. I tried to slip out from under his arm but was unsuccessful, and he easily kept pace with me even when I valiantly tried speeding up enough to escape. Could he not see that I wanted to be as far away from him as humanly possible?

“What are you doing?” I asked while still energetically trying to put a little bit of space between Mitchell and myself, but he held fast and kept his arm steadfastly around my shoulders.

“I am getting to know my new friend. Now, how about you and I go do something fun?” What kind of drugs was this guy on that made him so bipolar and oblivious? I very obviously didn’t want to be around him anymore. “Oh! How about we go to a club?”

“I would rather not,” I said tersely.

“Well, then what would you like to do?” He looked so innocent and happy, and I almost didn’t have the heart to make that boyish expression leave his face. The hurt I was feeling drove my actions more than anything else, so no matter how much I might regret it later, I snapped at him.

“No offense, but I have no desire to be around you right now. I still don’t know if I believe your claim that you are gay, and I don’t want to be reminded that I will probably die alone. Let me go home and wallow in peace.” I was being melodramatic and self-pitying, but I didn’t care at that particular moment. I wanted to go home and binge on ice cream, alcohol, and crappy romance movies, but I knew that alcohol was out of the question, seeing as I had to go to work the next day.

"Going home and wallowing alone is the worst thing that you could do right. No, what you need is to wallow with a friend. I am here to offer my services in that endeavor, so what does a night of self-pity usually entail for you?" He smiled at me innocently, as if his suggestion hadn't been outrageous.

"I don't even know you. All I know about you is that you are friends with Lana's boyfriend and that you claim to be gay. I really want you to go away now."

"I understand why you don't want to be around me right now, but I really do think you are a great person--that is why I had to tell you. I do want to get to know you and become your friend, but you can send me packing if you want to." I was almost tempted to tell him to just get lost and leave me in peace, but then he continued. "I will add that by turning me down you would be turning down free ice cream for the night."

How is it that everyone is able to bend me to their will with ploys of free ice cream? I really need to stop being so easily bought.

"Fine, but if I tell you to leave, you have to immediately, no questions asked." I crossed my arms defensively to seem firmer, but I probably looked more like a kitten trying to seem tough by growling at a grown cat.

"Okay. Now, where shall we head to?" He extended his arm to me link arms with him. I slowly slipped my arms around his and rested it lightly against his. If I could relax, it might actually be kind of nice to have contact with a person without there being any expectations or ulterior motives. If I were a more tactile person, I might even enjoy this companionable touching, but I have never been one who enjoyed touching or being touched by others. I always felt awkward about physical contact, mostly because I was not use to it. My family had never been touchy feely. We had expressed our emotions through action and not through physical contact.

Mitchell looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer, but an answer eluded me. What did I want? Should I continue this travesty of a night by allowing Mitchell into my life? My mind rebelled over the idea of allowing this man who had just shattered what little hope I had left to form a friendship with me, but his easy and open smile was melting my reluctance, even as my mind yelled abuse at me for being so easily conned. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sold on the thought that this charming, suave man might be gay, but I thought that maybe giving him the chance to prove me wrong might be worth the risk.

I forcibly relaxed my still tense body and said, “To the nearest supermarket to stock up on the most fattening ice cream and sickening rom coms that we can find.”

Mitchell smiled down at me, somehow realizing that my reply meant that I was giving him a chance to be my friend, and began leading me down the sidewalk in pursuit of ice cream. “I can most definitely help with that, but I have to say that we will need to pick a different genre of movie. I may be gay, but I will not subject myself to that shit.”

I giggled at his declaration as I followed his lead. “I think that I might be able to stand watching things blow up if you are in the mood for some action movies. God knows I have watched enough rom coms in the past few days, and they don’t seem to be making me feel any better.”

“Then, I am all in for this evening’s festivities.” I smiled shyly up at him as we continued down the sidewalk. “Now, tell me: how come some great guy hasn’t snatched up yet?”

A harsh laugh escaped me without warning, and I quickly brought my free hand up to cover my mouth to hinder any more embarrassing sound to make their way out.

“What was that about?” Mitchell looked at me skeptically, and reluctantly, I began to answer.

“I haven’t had much luck with the opposite s*x--any luck, really--as you can probably tell. I have been on a few blind dates, but none of them really stuck. This has actually been the most successful one that I have been on.”

“How is that possible? You are a beautiful, sweet girl.”

“Thanks, but flattery will get you nowhere with me, not that you really want to get anywhere with me. Heterosexual guys do not find me appealing, and I don’t really know how to interact with them. It also doesn’t help that I have been in love with the same guy for almost ten years.” I hadn’t meant for the information about Phillip to slip out, but it was too late to take it back now. I would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

“Ten years!” Mitchell exclaimed. “He must be some guy. An ex?”

“Not really.”

“Not really?”

“There isn’t much to the story. I am a walking cliche, and I fell in love with my sister’s best friend, even though he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me.” I sighed heavily, but felt a little triumphant at how dull the pang was when I mentioned my situation with Phillip, especially the portion about his not caring about me.

“That sucks, no matter how cliche it is. I have had my fair share of one-sided relationships.” As a gay man in the closet, it was little wonder that he understood how badly unrequited love could devastate a person, so I just gave a hum of acceptance of his statement and continued walking with him in silence until we came across a supermarket that would assuredly have the necessary supplies for our night of binging on movies and ts.

As unusual as it may sound, picking out ice cream with Mitchell was the most interesting and hilarious thing that I had done in awhile. He and I argued the merits of both of our favorite flavours (Mine being mint chocolate chip and his being chocolate chip cookie dough) and raiding the store for other sweets to either put on our chosen victor. Mitchell then proceeded to find different ways to disrupt just about everything and create such a ruckus that we were “kindly” asked to leave, and we were almost not allowed to purchase or sweets. Luckily, Mitchell can be very charming and persuasive when necessary.

With our hands now bearing our bounty, we headed toward my apartment. I hadn’t felt this comfortable around another person other than Lana in so long, and I was amazed that I could feel so at ease around this man that I met less than three hours ago. Inexplicably, he even seemed more comfortable around me than he was during dinner. Maybe it was because he told me one of his deepest secrets, or maybe it was because I was the only one that knew he was gay and he felt he could be himself around me. Whatever the reason was, I wasn’t about to complain, knowing without a doubt that I had just made a lifelong friend, and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the first friendship that I had with a person of the opposite s*x.

We finally arrived at my apartment, and I let us in with a grand sweeping gesture of my arms for Mitchell’s amusement and said in a grandiose voice, “Welcome to Casa de Tatianna. Make yourself at home and enjoy the beverages and sweets.”

My mouth twitched uncontrollably as I tried to keep my laughter under control as I watched Mitchell chuckle at my behaviour, but soon, I dissolved into peals of laughter, not the cute little giggles that normal girls do but large loud guffaws that were accompanied with tears streaking down my face. Honestly, my statement and actions hadn’t been that funny, and I recognized this fact. The comfort and ease that I felt while I was with Mitchell made laughter come easier and smiles seem permanently affixed to my face.

“Why thank you, my courteous lady.” He bowed in a gentlemanly manner and entered my apartment, while shutting the door behind him. He stood in the entryway of my space just looking around and taking it in. Honestly, there wasn’t much to take in. Having a few decoration and few furnishing, my apartment looked a little spartan, but I was both too lazy and too practical to waste my time and money on things to serve as decoration. “Looks like you got started earlier today.”

Looking at him quizzically, I followed his line of sight and found him staring at the wine glass that Phillip had used when he came over to tell me the “good news” and that I had avoided like the plague, even going so far as to refuse to look at that part of the kitchen counter, ever since that night. The glass stood there mocking me with the memory of that night, but washing it and putting it away felt like removing the last connection to Phillip that I had right now. I couldn’t do that. No matter how much it hurt to think of him he still meant too much to me to completely abliterate him from my life, from my memories.

With rosy cheeks and pounding heart, I finally responded to his statement with a nervous chuckle and said, “Um, yeah. It has been a long week. I am going to go ahead and get out the bowls and stuff. Why don’t you set up the ice cream and everything on the table?”

“Sure thing.” As he moved toward the table with the bags, I headed into the kitchen to grab everything and to hide my embarrassment.

Once we sat down with our desserts and movie, the ease from earlier returned despite my earlier embarrassment, and quickly, we were again in uproarious laughter and drooling over the the male lead. In that moment, life felt pretty good, and I wanted to stay in this moment with my new friend for as long as I could. Unfortunately, the night was drawing to a close and I knew that Mitchell would need to get going soon, even if that was the last thing I wanted right now. When the credits started rolling across the screen, he stood up and stretched, and I walked him to the door and bid him a goodbye making a promise to give him a call so that we could hang out again at some point this weekend. With a gentle sigh and a small smile on my face, I went to bed and didn’t even dream of Phillip as I was so prone to doing.