I have the sudden urge to speak to him, but I’m not sure if that’s because I want to talk to him about this drawing, or because I want to ask him out. There’s a bubble of nerves in my gut, but I know with certainty if I walk away from this man without speaking to him, I will regret it. So, feeling slightly shaky, I step up beside him. “You’re very good,” I say.
He startles and looks up. I’m suddenly very glad that I started speaking when his pencil wasn’t touching the paper. If I had ruined his drawing, I don’t think I would ever forgive myself. “Sorry,” I say. “I just saw your drawing and I had to tell you how much I liked it. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s all right,” he laughs. “I get sucked in sometimes. Besides, it’s not every day I’m interrupted by a beautiful woman.”
I blush, and hold out my hand. “I’m Audrey.”
He takes my hand, and I like the feel of it. “Christian.”
“I really did stop to tell you I think you’re talented. I don’t think I could ever do anything like that.”
“Have you tried?”
I smile. “I dabble a little. I’m okay, but nothing like that.”
“I believe everyone is capable,” he says. “Talent may be born, but persistence and practice are still the key to almost anything.”
“Good philosophy.” I realize that he’s still holding my hand, and I reluctantly pull mine away. “Are you an artist?”
Christian shakes his head. “Architect. Aspiring. But like I said, practice and persistence.”
“That’s amazing. If you can design buildings and draw like that, I have no doubt you’ll get there.”
“Thank you.” The tone of his voice is genuine.
I feel like I can’t stop smiling and I’m not sure why. “Anyway,” I say, “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
I make myself walk away because there’s nothing left to say and I’m a goddamn coward. Asking him out is more than I can do. I’m too easily embarrassed, and just talking to him was more than I thought myself capable of.
“Hey, wait!” I turn, and Christian has closed the few steps I’ve walked away, leaving his art supplies out in the open. “Wait,” he says as he approaches. “I swear that I don’t usually do this, and if that’s not what you’re looking for I’m sorry, but do you want to get a drink later?”
I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Do you know Charlaine’s?”
“Downtown?” I nod. “Yeah, I do.”
He smiles, and it takes my breath away. That smile could light up a city block. “How about seven?”
“It’s a deal.”
* * *
I texted Ellen about my spontaneous date, and I think she might be more excited about it than I am. Which is saying something because I’m pretty excited.
Charlaine’s is a bar downtown with an easy atmosphere and a fun vibe. It’s caught just a little in the past. Not quite enough to be retro, but enough to be nostalgic. It’s bright colors and 90s music and cocktails with names from pop culture. I’m wearing a cute dress and flats, and I even did my hair. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, and this one excites me.
I see him waiting at the bar. There are butterflies in my stomach as I walk up to him. He’s dressed up more than he was earlier, slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled to the elbows. I wouldn’t say that I’m an arm girl, but his forearms might be enough to change my mind. They’re corded with muscle, and he either works out all the time or he has a job that makes it possible to have that kind of physique.
He looks up right before I get to him, and he smiles at me.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello,” he says. We both stand there for a second, just staring. “Sorry, it’s been a bit since I’ve done this.”
“Don’t worry, me too.”
He scrubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Do you want a drink?”
“Vodka cranberry for me.”
“Great.” He turns to the bartender and orders my drink, and a gin and tonic for himself. He hands me my drink and leads me to a booth in the corner. It’s quieter here. We sit kind of beside each other and kind of across from each other without feeling too awkward. “Should we get the first date questions out of the way?”
“Like ‘what do you do’?”
He laughs. “Yeah.”
“I have a super exciting job,” I say. “I write grants and grant applications.”
“That is very exciting.”
I shake my head, taking a sip. “It’s really not.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s a job.” I shrug. “I like that I have one.”
Christian chuckles. “That’s fair. I’m a foreman, and, as you already know, an aspiring architect.”
So that’s why he’s got the body he does. “That must be exhausting.”