The Green Ticket (21 page)

I was just getting ready to keep walking when I heard a different noise. It sounded like–– no, it couldn’t be. Kissing? Disbelief crawled through my skin. The soft smacking noise sure sounded like kissing to me. Before I could react, the door was pressed all the way closed. The click had me jumping out of my skin, and I practically ran the rest of the way into the salon area. Mandy caught my eye when I walked in, cocking her head in a silent question. I knew my smile was weak, but I forced it anyway and continued to rush to the front desk. Maybe it was Kevin and Dani in the room. Maybe they just needed a private moment. Maybe––

“Taking off then, Alex?” Dani asked me. Fuck. It wasn’t her. What the hell was Allie doing in her massage room with Kevin? And what the hell was Kevin doing with Allie just hours after he got done with Kamille? I felt dizzy.

“Yep, I’m off. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” My voice sounded shaky to my ears.

“Have fun tonight on your date. I can’t wait to meet this Henry guy,” Dani said, giving me a friendly wave. I waved back and said good-bye to Julia, then hurried out to my car.

What the hell was going on with Kevin Dohlman and the Blissful employees?

Chapter 13

“I will have the manicotti al forno with the salad, please,” I said, pleased at my selection and that choosing was easier than I anticipated.

“For you, sir?” Our waiter, clad in a tuxedo and bowtie, turned to Henry.

“And I’ll have the toasted ravioli with meatballs, please. Salad as well.” Henry handed the waiter our menus and he was off. I breathed a sigh of relief that the ordering part was over. Bellini’s had an extensive menu and luckily there were several items I was okay ordering. Even though the place was seriously fancy (I mean, the waiter was in a tux!) the menu was pretty self-explanatory.

“So I know you said you had a crazy day. What happened?” Henry asked, taking a sip of his soda. I liked the fact that he didn’t order alcohol. I didn’t want to feel like a dunce because I wasn’t drinking, but I wasn’t comfortable using my fake here–– or anywhere really.

“Well, it was supposed to be my day off at Blissful, but I ended up getting called in. The regular girl called in sick and the owner was supposed to work but she had to shop and then...” I trailed off, realizing how heavy my body felt just talking about Blissful. And how disgusted I felt knowing about Kevin and his sleazy ways with the staff. “You know what? I don’t even want to talk about work tonight. Some stressful things are going on there, and I just want to really enjoy myself. With you,” I added, hoping that wasn’t a blush I felt creeping into my cheeks. Henry looked good tonight, in pressed khakis and a white dress shirt with faint blue lines running vertically through the material. His dark hair was neatly combed and his blue eyes, well, were doing funny things to my stomach. I kept having to remind myself it was only the second date. I wasn’t in love with this guy or anything.

“That’s fine by me. Lila mentioned you might be a little stressed about it today.”

“She did? When?”

“When you went back into your room to get your gloves. She just said you’ve been working extra hours and the no sleep is getting to you. And that I had to make sure you eat tonight.” He chuckled, but I felt mortified. Was Lila implying to Henry that I was anorexic? He must have noticed my stricken face because he quickly added, “I don’t think she meant anything bad by it. Just that you’re so busy you rarely get any time for yourself anymore. That’s all.”

I relaxed into my seat. Of course that’s what Lila meant. “Yeah. It’s been a little crazy. And apparently I don’t get a normal lunch break like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry, what? You don’t get a lunch break? Isn’t that illegal?”

I shook my head, trying to get Blissful out of my thoughts. “Sorry, no, never mind. No Blissful talk. Just a weird situation that happened today.”

But Henry didn’t look convinced. “Alex, are you not allowed to take breaks when you’re working? Because that is illegal. For every four hours you work you get a fifteen-minute break. Or something along those lines. I don’t remember the exact numbers, but you can’t work all day without one.”

“No, today was just a weird situation with getting called in and all that. I’m sure it won’t happen again.” I wasn’t so sure. “But really, let’s just change the subject. Where do you work?”

“I work at the youth center downtown.”

“Really? Doing what?”

Henry shrugged, but the look on his face was unmistakably proud. “This and that. I do a lot with the kids and sports. Ref the basketball games, coordinate all the schedules for the gyms, try to drum up interest in the sports program.”

“The youth center. Isn’t that where kids go when–– well, when they...” I wasn’t sure how to phrase my question.

“It’s mainly used by kids whose parents don’t have a lot of income. Many times the kids are told to go to the youth center to keep them off the streets. Their schools will make them go there.”

I nod my head, impressed by Henry’s obvious interest in helping these kids. “I guess I was going to say underprivileged, but didn’t want that to come out the wrong way or anything.”

“No, underprivileged is a good word to use. Most of these kids come from broken homes, or parents that are in jail. Some just don’t have the money to be able to belong to the fancy gyms around here.”

“Do you like what you do?”

“I love it. I like working with kids and teaching them sports. I’ve always loved sports, but everyone in my family was always too busy for me when I was growing up. My dad owns his own business and my brother was always into designing and building things, not really sports. I did a lot on my own and then with Peter and Max when we became friends.”

“What’s your favorite sport?”

“Probably baseball. I was the starting pitcher my junior and senior year. I got offered a scholarship to play at a college in Wisconsin, but didn’t take it.”

The waiter appeared then, dropping a basket of warm bread and an oil dipping sauce at our table. He made a big production of dropping some black seeds into the oil and mixing it around, then placing tiny bread plates in front of us. I reached for a piece of bread and dropped it on my plate, avoiding the oil.

“Why didn’t you take the scholarship?” I asked, curious.

“My family preferred me to stick with business. Hopefully join my dad’s company one day, take over the family business kind of thing. My brother only wants to do the design part, more of the architecture, than actually run the business.”

“I see. And what kind of company does your dad run?”

“He deals a lot with properties. Like buying old homes, flipping them, and then selling them for a lot more.”

“Flipping them?”

“Cleaning them up, making them look nicer, more sellable. Jacob is a big asset to him with his architecture work. I think Dad wants me to fall into either business.”

“And you’re not really interested in either?” I took a guess.

Henry shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “No. Not really. I don’t care much about either. I interned at Jacob’s company when I first came to Kaufman, and I can do it. I really can. I understand the blueprints and the designing aspects and all that. But I didn’t feel anything when I was doing it. It was just...mundane. Boring. Tedious. And with Dad’s line of work, I mean, it’s cool. It’s awesome to see the before and after of these houses. But all the work that goes into securing the house, then hiring the people to do the work, then putting the house on the market, blah, blah. It’s boring to me.”

Our meals came then, steaming plates that smelled like heaven in a meatball. My manicotti looked exquisite. I didn’t think I had ever thought exquisite when it came to a meal prior to coming to Bellini’s, but that is just what my dinner looked like. The salad even looked like a high-class salad, with lettuce that looked so crisp I just wanted to crack it, tomatoes and cucumbers piled high, tiny little croutons, and a mystery nut sprinkled throughout. I wasn’t sure what the dressing was, but as Lila warned me, it surely wasn’t ranch.

“This looks amazing. I’m almost afraid to eat it. It’s like art,” I whispered, then immediately felt a little silly. Henry had eaten here before, and from the way he spoke about his family, it sounded like they had money. I was just the poor starving girl who always forgot to eat.

To my relief, Henry grinned back at me, his smile flapping the wings of the butterflies taking up residence in my stomach. “I know, right? If I can tell you the truth, this place always scares me a bit. I feel like I can’t make one mistake or I’ll be kicked out. Heaven forbid I don’t eat my salad with the correct fork or don’t place my napkin in the proper place to signal I’m done.”

“Where does the napkin go when you’re done?”

“On the plate. Not on the table. I learned that lesson here.”

“Really? I don’t know any of those rules. I’m much more of a...well...Applebee’s kind of girl.” I was embarrassed to admit it, but so what? Henry came to Applebee’s with me on the first date. He could have declined.

“Same here. I’m a messy eater, and I feel like I should have napkins covering my whole body when I eat. I like places where they give you wet naps because they just know things are going to get messy. Or bibs. I’m a big fan of bibs.”

My laugh was loud, maybe a little too loud for Bellini’s. Patrons at the other tables glanced our way as if I just stood on my chair and started performing the Macarena. “Whoops, my bad.” I blushed, wanting to crawl under the table.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ve done much worse here.”

As we tucked into our dinners, Henry regaled me with stories of embarrassing his parents at fancy restaurants, sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose just to get a rise out of them.  I hung on to his every word, laughing louder and louder at each story. The night passed fast, too fast in my opinion. Before I knew it, our waiter was removing our plates (after we placed our napkins on them) and bringing the check.

Henry settled the bill, then looked up at me. “Well, now what?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

“Do you want to just go back to Wacker? Or is there anything else you’d like to do tonight?”

“I–– I’m not sure, I guess. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Well–– and tell me if I’m being totally out of line here–– but I don’t really want this to end just yet. I’m having too much fun.”

Fun? With me? I wanted to die from happiness. “I don’t want it to end either,” I said softly, my eyes piercing straight into Henry’s. Damn, I was lucky.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?”

Instantly, my body grew tired. Just the mere mention of work and I felt exhausted and worried. “No, I don’t have to work. Hopefully I won’t get called in again either.”

“Do you want to come back to my place? Maybe we can stop by and grab a movie to watch or something?”

Going back to his place? On our second date? My toes tingled. Did I want to do that? Um, hell yes!

“That sounds perfect. What are your roommates up to?”

“Peter might be home, but both Max and Kyle were going to some Irving party tonight.” He named the other popular business college in the area. “And my guess is Peter is probably studying.”

We stood up to leave, gathering out winter coats and slipping into them. “Hannah is probably doing the same thing back at our place. They are so meant for each other.”

“Peter talks about her a lot. I think he really likes her.” Henry held open the restaurant door for me, doing the same when we reached his car. Such a gentleman. And score for Hannah! I couldn’t wait to tell her.

“Does he? She told me she is going back to Truvista with him over Thanksgiving. Quite the step for them,” I said, turning on the button for my seat warmer. I really needed to get a car with that function.

“Yeah, Peter mentioned that too. Your family is in Seattle, right? What do you do for the holidays?” Was he asking me if I wanted to go home with him, or just curious?

“I always go to Seattle over Christmastime. My sister goes all out for the holiday. Usually for Thanksgiving I go to Okana with Lila. Her family is like a second family to me.”

“Is that what you’re doing this year?”

“That’s what I plan on. Hopefully my work schedule will work in my favor.”

“That’s cool.” Henry was silent for a while, and I wondered again if he was going to invite me home. Should I invite him to Seattle for Christmas? That seemed way too forward. A second date to traveling by air to visit my family for a week? And with my sister’s five kids–– any guy would go running for the hills.

Idle chitchat filled the car as we left Bellini’s and headed back in the direction of Henry’s house. We stopped at a Redbox on the way, picking out a Will Ferrell comedy that neither of us had seen. When we got back to his house, Peter was indeed at the table studying, textbooks and notebooks spread out on every available inch of surface. I could just picture Hannah beside him with her books and notes and highlighters, the two of them helping each other figure out problems they were stuck on and pausing between assignments for lingering kisses. It was so romantic! Nerdish, but still super romantic.

“Hey. How’s the studying going, man?” Henry asked when we walked into the kitchen. I stood awkwardly between the kitchen and living room, not sure of my place.

“Fine, fine.” Peter took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “About finished finally. Maybe I can actually watch football with you guys tomorrow for once. Hi, Alex. How are you?” he asked, bringing me into the conversation. I stepped into the kitchen with a bit more confidence.

“Hi, Peter. I’m fine. Thanks.” I managed to spit out before clamming back up again.

“What are you crazy kids up to tonight?” Peter asked, looking from me to Henry.

“We just rented a movie. Going to watch it in the basement if you don’t mind,” Henry answered, opening the fridge. “Do you want a beer, Alex?”

“Sure!” Beer might not top my favorites list, but I could still swig one down. And maybe it would help take the edge off. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was.