Page 7 of Paging Dr. VanRyan

“Oh. Saturday?”

“I work until five.”

“I can pick you up whenever you’d like.”

“Are you planning somewhere fancy?”

“No. I was thinking Italian? A nice cozy place with delicious food and some great wine. Casual.”

“Okay, how about six thirty?”

“Perfect.” I held out my phone. “Can I have your information?”

She tapped the screen and handed it back. I frowned in confusion. “This is the bakery address.”

“I live upstairs. The entrance is around back.”

“Well then, I won’t get lost coming to get you,” I said with a grin, and I sent her a text.

“Now you have my info. And my mom’s number in case you want it.” I winked. “I’m her favorite.”

She shook her head. “Somehow, Matthew, I’m not surprised.”

Maddy

I stared at my closet, wondering what to wear for dinner.

For my date.

I had a date.

I tried to recall the last date I went on. It was well over a year ago and hadn’t gone well. A friend had fixed me up with the “perfect guy.”

“My cousin,” she enthused, “has a steady job, is good-looking, and your age. He owns his own place, no debt, and very responsible.”

She neglected to mention meticulous, frugal, and uptight. Though, he was good-looking, aside from the constant frown that marred his face.

He tutted over the menu prices, suggested we share a meal, looked scandalized when I ordered a glass of wine, and didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. He fussed with the table settings, leaned over to pick a small piece of dust off my shoulder, mentioning the name of his favorite lint brush and offering to tell me where to get one like it at the best price to ensure no other “lint” incidents occurred. He talked about money, saving, and lectured me on the interest I was going to pay on my student loan, suggesting I put more effort into saving money now.

“I worked my way through business school,” he informed me. “Four jobs. When I could, I bought the worst house and fixed it up. I have no mortgage. I didn’t pay a penny for any piece of furniture. I got it all free. The appliances came with the house, and I don’t care if they’re green or blue. They work.”

“How, um, great,” I muttered.

“Eat more bread,” he insisted, pushing the basket my way. “It’s free.”

The bill came and he studied it, then informed me what my share was. “I only drank water,” he explained. “Your portion is higher.”

I nodded, paid my share, and we left the restaurant. He had glanced my way as I waited for my car. “I’m not sure we suit,” he said. “You’re a bit frivolous for me.” He pointed down the block. “Free parking after six. That’s why I said six-fifteen.” He shook his head. “You need to learn these things.”

I was glad to see the valet approaching with my car. It was pouring, and the five-buck tip was well worth not getting soaked. I left with a wave and stopped at Wendy’s. Splitting the meal had meant he divided it, and his share had been significantly larger than mine. He apparently assumed I ate like a bird.

The spicy chicken sandwich tasted extra good that night.

I shook my head to clear it of that awkward evening. I picked a dress off the hanger and studied it. It was a rich shade of blue with a scooped neck, lace set into the sleeves and at the hem. Pretty and feminine, but comfortable. And I could wear it with low heels.

I bit back my smile as I laid it on the bed. I’d check for lint before Matthew showed up.

Although, I had a feeling a speck of fluff wouldn’t bother him.