Page 10 of When Sinners Fear
“Of course. Tomorrow afternoon?”
“I … have some family responsibilities. Could we meet in the evening instead, say seven-thirty?” Both my father and Evie will be capable of preparing dinner. Matthew’s attempt might be questionable.
His low chuckle comes over the line, and I wonder if he’s making fun of me. “I’m happy with later. Do you know Taliskers?”
“I’m sure I can find it. Tomorrow at seven-thirty. Bye.” I hang up before waiting for him to reply. My heart is racing – speeding in my chest and making me feel a little lightheaded, but I don’t let it drown out my accomplishment. It might be small – insignificant to some girls – but for me, asking a guy out is a huge deal.
~
The next day, I’m preoccupied. The meeting with Knox and whether I made the right call to phone him weighs on my mind, but the prospect of some mental stimulation is as exciting as the concept of a date. Math, science and truth. The way he said those words felt oddly comforting, yet he made it more exciting than any of the theories I’ve been over in my study.
After my chores, I set about getting ready. There’s nothing dressy in my wardrobe, so I settle for a pretty white shirt and dark blue skirt. I secure my pin again – from now on, this is my lucky pin – and check myself in the mirror before checking the time. For planning, I looked up the place he suggested to meet. It’s not too far and looks nice – far nicer than anywhere I’d go back in Pasadena. The cab I’ve ordered is due at any moment, so I rush downstairs. “Bye,” I call out as the door closes. I’ve been living on my own for long enough, and I won’t justify my every move. Evie can come and ask me later if she wants. I see she’s worried about Mom. More than Matthew is.
The cab pulls up as I wrap a cardigan around my shoulders.
I get in, and he drives off.
Visiting bars on my own isn’t something I’ve ever done before. Usually, I have my head stuck in a book, or I'm working through theory or equations. Women are outnumbered in my field five to one, but all the guys I know are just friends. When I think of Knox, I have a specific and measured response, my quickening heart rate being the obvious one.
The cab arrives; I get out and head toward the bar door. Stepping inside, I assess the surroundings, noting the mood lighting and tall tables. It isn’t busy, but the dress code is a lot dressier than my attempt. Oh well.
I walk towards the back of a man in a suit and am somewhat relieved when he turns around and smiles, and as he does, it freezes me for a moment. I take him in, and my pulse races for a second – a literal physical response.
“Hi.” I offer my hand out awkwardly and then realise that it’s probably not the right move, so withdraw it quickly.
“Hello. You’re looking for more pleasure, I see.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask, confused.
“The hand.” He nods towards my hands, screwed up together in front of me. “Last time I touched it, you said pleasure. You never did give me your answer yesterday.”
My eyes drift to his. He’s flirting. I think. Something else I’ve had little experience with and feel anxious about. Being at ease around people doesn’t come naturally at the best of times, let alone when the other person is as handsome as Knox.
“Would you like a drink?” He rescues me.
“Sure.” He leans over and signals the barman. “A beer with a whiskey chaser and a…” He looks at me expectantly.
“Lime and soda.”
His brows pull together in complaint. “That’s not a drink.”
“Well, it is. It’s just not an alcoholic drink,” I correct.
“You don’t drink?” he asks.
My weight shifts back from one foot to the other. “I do drink, just not alcohol. Not for another six months and three weeks.” I smile, knowing he won’t have expected that answer, having chosen a bar in the first place.
“You’re twenty.”
“Twenty, five months and one week.”
He looks me dead in the eye, and I can feel a sense of power he has over me. It’s thrilling, and for the first time in my life, I’m excited.
“Do you want a proper alcoholic drink?”
I’ve had the occasional beer before but never liked the bitter taste. I shake my head. Besides, alarm bells are warning in my head at the thought of being inebriated in the presence of this man. He nods and turns back to the barman. “And a lime and soda.”
He shakes his head, but there’s a grin fighting to show on his lips. He takes the drinks and signals toward an empty table at the end of the room.