The Almost Lunch Date

It had been months since I’d heard from him. So, I was shocked to receive a message from him over Facebook one afternoon.

Mr. Exec: “Hey, do they ever let you out of your cave for lunch?”

Me: “Hi! Long time no chat.  On rare occasion I am allowed to be let loose.”

Mr. Exec: “Perfect.  I’d like to take you to lunch some time.  I know you don’t have many friends here and it’s just not right that you spend your time slaving away!”

Me: “hahaha. I’d like that.”

We make tentative lunch plans for the following day.  He asks if he can pick me up from my apartment. If I’m comfortable with that of course.  I’m giddy with excitement.  YES. It’s happening. Game on.  But then I second guess his intentions.

Me. “Wait, you aren’t going to try to sell me on something, are you?”

Mr. Exec: “Hmmmmm… maybe ;)”

Heart beat quickens.  It’s. So. Fucking. On.

I warn my boss that I will be otherwise occupied for a brief period the following day. He’s cool with it, of course.  And things start to look pretty fucking rosey.

But then I start to panic. I love my theatre. I don’t want to ruin my new-found home. I need that place.  Maybe it is just an innocent little lunch date (although, let’s be real here, why would a man in his late 40s/early 50s ask a late 20s/early 30s single gal out to lunch if he had only the purest of intentions).  But what if someone saw us and got the wrong idea (*cough* the right idea *cough*)?

I started up a chat with my Dark and Twisty.  We discussed the notion of limits, and whether or not it was a good idea to have them.  He asked his questions, like he normally does. And I arrived at my answer. Some lines were not meant to be crossed. So, I regretfully composed a message to my Mr. Exec.

“Hey.  So- don’t get me wrong I really want to go to lunch with you.  But I have a natural intuition about things, and I’m usually not wrong. This isn’t my first rodeo.  If the circumstances were any different, please know I’d be jumping on this lunch date in a heartbeat.  I’m just worried about someone getting the wrong idea and that spreading around like wildfire. I want to continue working there.”

I press send and sigh.  Moral compasses suck. A few minutes later I receive a reply.

“No worries. Just wanted to get you out for some fun was all. We are friends after all. But I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you change your mind let me know.”

“Thanks.  I really want to.  I’m a bit of an odd duck and see the propensity for trouble between us. Perhaps that was an overshare, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry with me.”

And that was it.

I had rehearsal that evening for a miserable show that I got roped into stage managing.  I packed up my stuff and headed out the door.

When I arrived at the theatre there he was with his wife.  They were just getting into their cars, but my friend, (let’s call her “Loveable Dolt’ or ‘LD’ for short) spotted him and immediately hopped out to give them a hug.  Mr. Exec waltzed right up to me with a sly smirk on his face and wrapped me in his arms.

He smells good. Feels good. Strong. Confident. Safe. Alluring.

I lean in naturally.

God dammit.

Mr. Exec: “Good to see you again, Ms. Awesomely Dangerous.”

I reply barely above a whisper, clearly flustered as I’d just been texting with him an hour prior and probably said more than I should have.

Me: “Yes. You too.”

He pulls me back into him again and speaks softly so only I can hear.

Mr. Exec: “Let me know if you change your mind about that lunch date, dear.”

I stood there stunned and watched him climb into the car with his wife, tossing me and LD a friendly wave as he went.

Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.  You delicious specimen, you.

Should have taken the lunch date.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s