Archive for restaurant

The first date

Posted in Blog, Diary, Faction with tags , , , , , , on January 13, 2010 by suzaloo

It took me a couple of weeks to call Dominic. I carried his card around in my wallet and felt it burning a hole in my handbag. There was something about him, something that made me feel itchy. I knew I wouldn’t stop itching until I saw him again, so one Tuesday lunchtime when I was alone in my office, I took out his card and picked up the phone.

He answered on the second ring. His voice had that distant quality I had come to associate with being at work and having your mind focused on other things.

“Hello, Dominic, it’s Suzanne,” I said, digging my nails nervously into my palms. “We met a couple of weeks ago -”

“Hey,” he interrupted, and I could almost see the broad grin on his face. “How are you? I’ve been hoping you’d call.”

“Really?” I said, genuinely surprised. “I’m good, thanks. And you?”

“I’m very well, thank you. And yes, really. I was hoping I could take you out for dinner.”

I smiled, felt a blush creeping up my neck. “I’d like that.”

We arranged to meet the following Monday at a restaurant somewhere between our offices. I spent the next few days in a blur, planning and replanning my outfit and dealing with the gold medal winning gymnastics my stomach performed every time I thought about him. Which was a lot.

That Monday was the slowest day I think I have ever spent at work. I was busy, as always, but the time dragged. At six o’clock on the dot, I shut down my computer and made my way to the ladies toilets to get ready. I was wearing the standard office uniform of a tailored suit over a crisp, white cotton shirt. I swapped the shirt for the blue silk one I had brought with me, let my blonde hair down from its bun so it hung over my shoulders and carefully re-apllied my make-up. It wasn’t a stunning look by any stretch of the imagination, but we were both coming straight from the office. It would have to do.

I felt sick with nerves as I gathered up my things from my office and made my way down in the lift. Once on the street I flagged down a cab and gave the driver the name of the restaurant, before climbing into the back and tried to remember how to breathe. At that point I realised there was something seriously special about this guy. I didn’t remember ever feeling so nervous on a first date.

He was already there when I got there, which I loved him for. There’s nothing worse than sitting waiting for a date, crippled with nerves and silently praying that they do, in fact, turn up. He looked gorgeous in a dark blue suit and stood up so eagerly when he saw the maĆ®tre d’ leading me across the room that he banged his knee on the table.

He was lovely. Really lovely. He gave me the wine list and let me choose the wine, and he got a pudding even though he didn’t want one just so I could have two. He was so easy to talk to. We lingered long after the coffee had finished and I knew that I liked this man. A lot.

Eventually we acknowledged that it was getting late and we both had to work in the morning. He walked me out to a waiting taxi and we made loose plans to maybe do something at the weekend. He kissed me on the side of the mouth, and I remember the feeling of my heart turning over in my chest.

At the time, I really wished I’d kissed him back, but later, as I climbed into bed, I reflected that it had been just enough. I couldn’t wait to see him again.