Page 44 of Strictly Against Policy

But Lina wasn’t my date.

My ribs still constricted, limiting my ability to breathe. I heard the door open behind us, and I turned to see the woman I saw in the pictures she sent to me. My date had the same lush hair and big smile in person as she did in her photos.

“Hi! You’re Jonathan Lo, right?” she asked.

I plastered on my best smile. I said to the hostess and quickly glanced at Lina again, “Sorry about the confusion, but we’re not together.”

Her cheeks were flushed red as she stepped back.

I awkwardly turned to look at my date, who was patiently waiting for me to respond. “Sorry about that. Yes, I’m Jonathan. You’re Michelle Thao, I presume?”

The hostess whispered a quiet ‘sorry’ to Lina behind me as my date replied. “Yes. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for me.”

“You’re good. I just got here myself,” I chuckled, turning to the hostess again. “Reservation for Jonathan Lo at seven.”

The hostess flashed me an apologetic smile and seated us at once. Despite this being my first time eating at this restaurant, I had little to no recollection of anything in the room aside from our table and the tiny vase with a single red rose and several stems of baby’s breath. Michelle’s smile grew wider at the flowers I gave her as I pulled the seat out for her. As soon as the hostess left us, Michelle spoke up, excited.

“When your sister reached out to me about this blind date, I was surprised,” she said.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“I knew you as my sister’s friend’s brother, and the only thing I remembered about you from high school was”—Michelle started explaining—“that lanky, younger boy who’d always show up after school to our interior design club, asking for cash from Julie every day for snacks.”

I groaned as she let out a laugh. “Oh, God. I knew I asked Julie for money way too many times.”

She shrugged. Her deep-brown eyes darkened into an inky black as they flicked from my face, arms, and waist. “It’s nice to see you again, and see that you’re not the same, cute boy you used to be anymore.”

A small smirk pulled at my mouth as a chuckle rumbled out. “Nope. I’m definitely not a boy anymore.”

Michelle practically purred, grinning. If I had met her just two months ago, I’d wine and dine her, and then I’d bring her to a nice hotel down the street. She was a fun, flirty, and attractive woman. But she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with.

The stretch of the smile plastered onto my face grew wider. Then, the corners of my lips faltered when Lina walked into my line of sight. She followed the hostess up to the bar alone. At some point, she must’ve taken off her coat because she was now baring her back to the world.

With her hair up in a bun, the glow of the dim lights in this restaurant crafted planes of shadows across the breadth of her muscles. Dips and valleys highlighted by the light and accentuated by the shadows—showcasing the strength she carried with each low, distinguishable curve. My ribs constricted tightly again as I watched her take her seat.

Michelle caught my distraction immediately and almost turned to look when I spoke up. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you from high school. Were we in the same grade as well?”

“I’m a year older than you. I doubt I ran into you often. I saw your sister more since she and my older sister ran in the same social circles.”

I nodded slowly, already knowing I probably wouldn’t remember her sister either. “Well, it was your sister’s social media post about you being single that encouraged my sister to set up this date. I suppose we should thank them for that.”

Michelle’s face reddened instantly when I brought up the witty post her sister wrote about her accomplishments and how she had yet to find her perfect partner. “Oh my gosh, don’t even mention it. It’s still so embarrassing she even did that—basically advertising to everyone how single I am.”

“Julie would’ve done the same if she were as creative as your sister.” I shrugged, smiling.

We shared a laugh, and I made sure to train my eyes on the woman in front of me. With Lina lingering there in my periphery, I wanted to turn to slowly and methodically take her in, drink her up, eat her out—make an entire meal out of her. But I didn’t.

I wouldn’t. There was another woman in front of me equally deserving of my time and focus. Despite that, my mind wouldn’t stop asking questions.

Was it a date? What kind of man did she choose to spend her time with? Was he kind like Andy? Did he treat her well? I shushed all those thoughts as soon as they appeared in my mind.

Michelle and me both knew this date wasn’t about heat and passion. The initial interest and fire at the beginning fizzled out a quarter into our date. The conversation became more friendly than flirty, and Michelle began to feel more like an old friend. Our only connection to each other, aside from our older sisters being friends, was the high school we once attended.

“Thank you for paying for the meal,” she said at the end of our date.

I looked at her with a gentle smile. “No need to thank me. It was an amazing dinner, and with great company.”

Michelle handed me a tight smile. “But . . .”