Realize

It had been about a week since James had been weaseled into having dinner with me and my roommates at our apartment. We had talked, rather via text, phone call, or in person at my work, almost every day.

I was wiping down the bar top after an obnoxious drunk had spilt his beer all over it. I saw someone walk up and place their arms on the bar top right where I just wiped. Without looking up, I tried to warm them.

"Hey, you may not want to rest your arms there," I lifted my head to continue, smiling when his eyes met mine. "I just wiped that, it may still be damp."

He shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "Ah, that's okay. I'm a big boy, I can take it."

I raised an eyebrow at him, tossing the rag over my shoulder, in true bartender fashion.
"So tell me, big boy, what exactly brings you in here the day before you leave? Shouldn't you be at home, relaxing? Enjoying your final moments before you hit the road?"

He placed a hand on his heart in mock hurt, dropping his jaw for emphasis. "So sorry that I wanted to come and say goodbye and spend some time with a friend."

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "I jest, I jest. So, where you off to this time?"

James pulled up a stool and sat on it, leaning back while he stretched his arms. "What, you mean you don't check up on my schedule, dreaming of when you'll see me again?"

I mimicked his smirk. "Oh, normally I do, but my computer is in for repairs this week."

"I did come for a reason other than hello, actually."

"Oh?" I asked, intrigued and a little apprehensive.

"Yeah. Since I have already had dinner at your place, I think it's only fair that I treat you to dinner at my place."

I couldn't help but feel my entire brain shut down. I didn't know what to think. Was he asking me on a date? I shook my head and tried to regain my train of thought.

"I didn't treat you to dinner, though. You kinda got weaselled by my roommate. You don't owe me anything."

He nodded his head. "I know, and you better tell Pamela I will be her guinea pig any day of the week."

I smiled, happy that he got along with my roommates.

"I'll be sure to let her know. I think she's in need a new one anyways. She thinks Chase just says its good so she'll keep cooking for him."

James snorted. "Well, at least she didn't jump to the conclusion most women have about men."

"Oh, she said that, too. I just didn't want to imply that I thought the same thing." I chuckled.

He shook his head slightly before looking back up at me. I looked at the bar top in front of him and noticed that he didn't have a drink or anything.
"Did you want something to drink? You're sitting there with nothing, making me look like a piece of shit bartender."

"Oh, is big bad Roman gonna tell on you?"

I shrugged my shoulder and looked behind me.

"Who knows. He is around here somewhere, probably looking at himself in the mirror. He does it a lot."

James laughed, but then finally ordered a Coke. As I placed the glass in front of him, he lightly wrapped his hand around mine.

"So, what do you say?"

"About what?" I played it off.

"Dinner at my place. The night I come home from Ottawa."

I pulled my hand away and slightly blushed.
"Why Mr. Neal, are you asking me out?"

He raised a hand up in front of him. "Not out. It's a nice dinner in."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, yeah sure. I guess I couldn't give up the free meal. Question, though. Are you actually going to cook?"

He nodded curtly, “Yes, I’m going to cook, and no, I’m not telling you what it’s going to be. Just know this, you will enjoy it.”

“And if I don’t, I’ll bring money to order pizza.”

He shook his head. “How little faith you have in me.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s a common stereotype that unless hockey players are married or in a committed relationship, they live off take-out food or a strict diet that no woman, unless she is an athlete in her own right, can handle.”

I heard another customer knock his glass on the counter, signaling he wants to order another drink. I looked over at him and then back at James. “I’ll be right back.”

After taking care of the customer and walked back to where James was sitting. He was on the phone. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on his conversation, so I turned away and began to clean up and reorganize the shelf of liquor bottles.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sitting right in front of her.” I heard him whisper behind me. I felt the crimson creep up my cheeks. I continued with my re-organizing, not wanting to turn around. I didn’t want him to feel like I was eavesdropping, though, in fact, I was.

“Look, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I heard him say, this time a little louder than a whisper.

I used that as my cue to turn around. I stood in front of him and picked up his glass, lifting it in the air a little, silently asking if he wanted a refill. He shook his head.

“Nah, I think I’m going to head out."

I felt my shoulders slump a little, but hoped he didn't notice. "Okay, well have fun in Ottawa."

"That's the plan. The only upside to this lockout: I can spend more time with my friends and family."

I smiled. "That is a positive thing. I hope you have a great time."

He nodded. "Oh yeah. I almost forgot. I'll be back on Wednesday. Book the night off."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll think about it. Now go home and rest. You got a long drive tomorrow."

He smiled and waved as he stood up, off the stool and walked out of the bar. I looked over to where his glass still stayed and realized he didn't pay. I sighed, chuckling to myself and placed the money that James owed for his pop out of my pocket. Looking up at the clock, I saw that I had only 35 minutes left of work. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed out a text message.

I'll take you up on your dinner offer. You owe me, anyways. Just paid your tab, slacker.

I went back to the cleaning I had started before James had come in. Just as I finished I felt my phone go off in my pocket.

Well, I'm pretty sure the dinner is going to be worth a little bit more than the $2 my drink cost.

I couldn't hold back the giggle that was pushing to come out as I read his response. I felt a snort behind me.

"Lover boy got you all giddy? It's kinda sick."

I turned on my heal and saw the disgusted face of Roman. "I didn't ask for your opinion, Roman, and he's not my lover boy."

"Well, you would be smart to stay away from him. He is a hockey player, after all."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders with a slight, twisted smirk on his face. "I'm just saying. Hockey players have a reputation. You don't want to get caught up in that."

I crossed my arms over my chest, but not before throwing the rag I was using to wipe down the bar into the sink. "Well, I must say, I appreciate your...um, concern, but I think I can figure out if James lives up to that stereotype or not."

I knew that he would more than likely had a rebuttal, but I turned and walked away to grab my coat and purse before leaving the bar altogether for the night. I went home and laid down on my couch, thinking not of what Roman had said, but of the sad fact that it would be 6 days until I see James once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the annoying noise of my ringtone going off. After opening my eyes, I realized I fell asleep on my couch and never made it upstairs. I reached into my purse and looked at the caller ID. Rolling my eyes, I answered the call.

"You do realize it’s...."

" 7 a.m.? Yes I am well aware. Get up and out of bed."

“Why? I’m trying to relax. It’s my day off. I planned on sleeping in until at least noon.”

She chuckled. “Well, fine. I’ll just stand outside of the apartment, stranded in the hallway.”

I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. “You lost your key?”

“Yepp. So can you please come open the door?.”

I sighed lightly and stood up from the couch, stretching as much as I could with my phone in my hand. I walked over to the door and unlocked it. Opening it, I saw a disheveled-looking Pamela staring back at me with a small smirk on her face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Pamela walked past me and threw her purse on the table by the closet.

“This is what post-sex hair looks like.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, clearly someone had a good night last night.”

“Yeah,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, coming back out into the living room with a beer and a smile. “It was great.”

I sunk back into the couch beside her. She looked over at me and snorted. “Isn’t that what you wore to work yesterday?” She sat up and turned to face me, sitting Indian-style on the couch, with a shocked look on her face. “Did you see James last night?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I came home from work and passed out.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. Did you see James?”

“Yes, mother, I did.”

“And? That’s all you tell me? That you saw him? C’mon. I need more.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “He’s leaving, well,” I looked at the clock on the cable box, “he already left for a road trip to Ottawa to spend time with his friends.”

“Oh, and he came to say goodbye?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess. We just kinda talked about nothing, y’know, like always.” I began to fidget and Pamela immediately noticed, much to my chagrin.

“There’s more! Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

I sighed. “Well, since you weaseled him into having dinner here, there’s now going to be a dinner at his place.”

Pamela raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me he’s going to cook for all of us? Wait, he can cook?!”

I shook my head and chuckled lightly. “Yes, apparently he can, and it’s not all of us. It’s just me.”

She slowly nodded, then it clicked in. “Oh….OH! Oh my God! You have a date!”

Pamela jumped off the couch and began to squeal. I stood up and put my hands on her arms, stopping her. “Pamela, it’s not a date. It’s just two friends having dinner. Calm down.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not going to calm down. Oh my, wait until Denise hears this.”

I ran a hand through my hair as Pamela ran out of the room. I sat back down on the couch and sighed. I picked up my phone off of the coffee table.

I hope you’re happy. This dinner has now become the cause of my roommates’ insanity.

I finally decided to get off the couch and walk to my room. On my way there, I passed Pamela in the hallway.

“So, when does lover boy come back?”

I groaned. “Oh come on, not you, too. Roman said the same thing last night. Although he doesn’t have the same feeling about James as you do.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. He just tried to insinuate that James wasn’t good enough for me. Like he was some kind of stereotypical hockey player. It was so weird.”

She snorted. “Well, Roman is weird. Deal with it.” Pamela walked around me, then turned on her heel. “So, what are your plans before work?”

I ran a hand through my hair and turned around to face her. “I don’t know. Probably going to have a shower then nap, I’m really tired.”

She nodded. “Okay, I was going to say let’s go out to eat, but I’ll let you rest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lunch with Pamela was insane. I almost thought that I was going to regret sending that message to James, but after sitting through the lunch, it was completely justified. The insanity didn’t stop there. Over the course of the next four days, I had both Denise and Pamela throwing outfits to wear and showing me pictures of how to wear my hair and makeup. That was just at home. Going to work was worse.

Roman would stare at me whenever we were on the same shift. I had hid my phone, just so he wouldn’t look over my shoulder and read whatever text I was reading or who was calling me. I had gone into our boss’ office and asked for Thursday night off. She happily obliged, especially since I gave her two days notice, and when I left her office with a goofy grin on my face, Roman was right there to try and shut down my mood.

“You’re going to get hurt, you know.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let it go, Roman.” I walked past him, but could hear his footsteps follow me as I made my way back out to the bar. “You know, I’m not sure what your problem is with James. You don’t even know him. With that being said, your opinion of him isn’t going to change mine, so please, drop it. Find a new topic of interest to latch on to. Preferably someone sitting at a booth or on a street corner.”

He snorted lightly. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll let it go. Just don’t come into work crying over him and expect sympathy from me.”

I shook my head. “Whatever, Roman.”

I finished my shift thankfully, without another encounter with Roman and went home to a quiet apartment. I took off my shoes and went on my way with my nightly routine. Once I was finished, I yawned as I walked into my room. I pulled my phone out of my purse and checked to see if I had any missed calls or messages. Sure enough, I had three unread text messages. All of which were from James.

How does chicken a l’orange sound?

Hey, missy, you better not be ignoring me. You owe me your company on Thursday night.

Two more sleeps :)

I smiled as I read them all and quickly typed a reply.

Hey, sorry. I turn my phone off while I work now. Long story. Can’t wait for Thursday :)

I plugged my phone in to charge and just when I crawled into bed, I heard my phone go off. Knowing it was James, I reached over to grab it off of the end table.

No worries. Tell me on Thursday. Sweet Dreams.

I smiled and wasn’t sure what to reply with, so I just put my phone back on the table and snuggled into my covers. I fell asleep with a smile face, obeying James’ wishes for sweet dreams.