Sara thanked her and started to say goodbye, but Barbara stopped her.
“I know you’d probably prefer for me to stay out of it, but I’d be a bad friend to Rhett if I didn’t tell you that he’s a really good guy. Whatever he said or did that upset you so much, I’m sure …”
“Don’t say he didn’t mean it,” Sara said. “And don’t say he regrets it because he doesn’t. And I can’t deal with him. So I’m going out on this date to try to shake Rhett out of my system and move on.”
“Mates don’t get over it that easy,” Barbara said softly.
“Witches don’t have mates,” Sara retorted.
“Fair enough. Well, I hope you have a nice date tonight.”
“Thank you.” Sara hung up the phone, trying not to be affected by Barbara’s words.
She hadn’t known the woman long, but she liked Barbara. Trusted her. So Barbara’s words about Rhett meant something to her.
She had to shake it off. She had a date to get ready for.
Why was she nervous? It was just dinner, right? How bad could it be?
That was a question that Sara decided she would never ask again.
After being a nervous wreck about her date all day, she finally pushed through the crippling anxiety and forced herself to get it together and get ready for her dinner date.
When she pulled up to the restaurant, she popped open the visor mirror and checked her hair and makeup one last time, wanting to make a good impression.
She sucked in a deep breath and exited her car, heading for the front door of the restaurant. Her nerves were frazzled, but a nice glass of wine or two would help that issue.
To her surprise, Bryce met her at the bar and greeted her with a hug and a peck on the side of her cheek.
“You look lovely,” he said, pulling back from the hug and hesitating with his hand on her arm, looking at her a bit curiously.
“Thank you,” Sara replied. Feeling paranoid, she realized that his hand was resting close to the shoulder that Bryce had marked. It had to be a coincidence, right? “Is anything wrong?”
“No, not at all.” He seemed to shake it off and grinned widely, guiding her to a quiet booth near the rear of the room. “I took the liberty of ordering your favorite wine.” He motioned for the waiter to fill their glasses.
“How did you know?” Sara asked.
“It was on your profile.” He smiled at her.
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry,” she apologized, feeling quite out of sorts. She sipped at her wine and gathered her bearings, trying to figure out what it was about the man in front of her that didn’t feel right.
It couldn’t just be that he wasn’t Rhett, right? She refused to believe that the wolf shifter had ruined her for every other man.
On the surface, he was handsome and looked just like his picture, but there was something that didn’t jive with his profile description. Was it his age? It had been listed as fifty on the dating site, and while she knew that some men aged like fine wine, she doubted anyone could age that well. Sure, Bryce had some grey in his hair, but his face was wrinkle-free and not in the Botox way. He didn’t seem to have a single laugh line or wrinkle anywhere on his face or on the back of his hands.
There was something in his body language, too. Or maybe she was just comparing him to Rhett, who had charisma, confidence, and grace in spades. Bryce, on the other hand, just seemed … boyish.
They were supposedly the same age, or so his profile had said. But sitting across from him, she found that hard to believe. She had been around many men her age, and there was a fundamental difference between people her age and someone significantly younger.
Looking closer, she thought the streaks of gray through his hair looked almost intentional … like he’d had highlights, or in this case, gray lights. It was quite perplexing.
During the course of dinner, Sara also noticed several other things that just didn’t fit with his listed age, and not that she had been purposely stereotyping him or anything like that. He didn’t speak like he was someone in the throes of mid-life, but that of someone much, much younger.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, probably because she was staring at him, trying to piece together the puzzle.
“I’m just trying to figure you out,” she said flatly. Sara wanted all the cards on the table. She usually had some pretty good intuition about people, and it bothered her that she couldn’t figure out if there was something off about Bryce or if she was simply so hung up on Rhett that this other man seemed inferior in comparison.
“Ask away. I’m an open book.” Bryce threw his arms open, indicating that she should ask away.