Page 18 of Reaching Gavin

I shook my head emphatically, refraining from lunging at him, even if I did want to strangle him. “You drive like a crazy person.”

I was already wondering if I could get away with taking an Uber home. But Ubers were expensive, and I was an unpaid intern. Still, it would cost less than dying.

Luka visibly bristled, but then he smirked. I’d seen this move before. If he acted like he didn’t care, then there must not be a problem. I was still fuming when he reached out, in a way-too-friendly fashion, to put one arm around my shoulders. I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t a big fan of him touching me. Still the gesture wasn’t overly intimate. I shrugged it off anyway and gave him a small, conciliatory smile.

“You’ve just forgotten what it’s like to ride with me.” I thought I got the edge of a secondary meaning to that, but before I could respond he grabbed my hand and began to walk forward.

Again with the touching! It was pretty clear he thought this was a date. I supposed the fact that he insisted on picking me up should have been a sign. No matter what I wanted this to be or what I hoped to get out of it, I couldn’t ignore what Luka’s motives were. This time I let him hold my hand. It didn’t feel as bad as I wished it did. There was a comforting familiarity to it. We’d been like that when we were dating — affectionate, overly so sometimes. I remembered both Jillian and Jess complaining about it. Things had been different back then though. I hadn’t minded when he drove around town like an insane person in his Accord, acting like he was a cast member from the Fast and the Furious. I’d been too caught up in the hormones of it. Now? It felt kinda nice to hold someone’s hand.

Pike Place was crowded enough to make conversation difficult. I wanted to kiss every tourist I passed for being so loud. The white noise kept me from having to confront Luka about the past, about tonight, about any of it. The restaurant itself was tucked on the side of the hill down a narrow alley and mostly out of sight. When we arrived, I discovered it was charming and cozy and a little too intimate. A waitress sat us at a small table in the back—the kind reserved for lovers out for a romantic night.

I almost asked her if she had a booth available.

But I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Luka had chosen this place for a reason. From looking around I had to guess it had high ratings for first dates on Yelp. We were presented with menus which were, also charmingly, in French. A language I didn’t speak.

Luka leaned over and whispered, “I’ll translate for you.”

With horror, I remembered that Luka had studied French all through high school. He must’ve continued to do so in college. He was really pulling out all the stops. Why couldn’t a guy I wanted to date do that? I could dig on some cheesy, romantic gestures but not when they were a play by my ex. At least it meant I stood a chance of getting him to open up to me.

Maybe Jillian was right and I wasn’t giving him enough credit. I was a different person than when we had dated. I was smarter, savvier, and less likely to put up with his bullshit. Maybe if he was ready for a commitment, things could be different. Then, I remembered how he drove. I wasn’t going to make any bets on who Luka had become.

A haggard looking waiter appeared at our table and stared us down while he began rattling off the evening’s specials. Most of them I was familiar with. I might not speak French but I had eaten French food before. I didn’t need to give Luka the opportunity to show off. Before I could process all my options, Luka began to order, “We’ll start with an order of the escargot and also the foie gras. Bring a bottle of the Dom Perignon. The lady will have the veal and I will have the cassoulet.”

He closed the menu with satisfaction.

I happened to like veal. It was probably what I would have ordered. But I resented the fact that he had tried to do it for me. I caught the waiter’s eye before he could turn away. “Actually the lady will have the filet medium rare.” I quickly tacked on a “please.”

The waiter looked from Luka to me and back. If he had thoughts on what had just happened, he didn’t share them. Instead he nodded and muttered a “very good” before disappearing toward the kitchen. How very French.

“My apologies. They’re known for their veal here. I wanted you to try something new.”

“I grew up on a Texas ranch. I’ve tried every kind of meat there is.” I wished I could swallow the last part back down. It had much too strong a whiff of double entendre.

Luka must have noticed because he tried to hide a smile, turning his head to look out the window. “This place is lovely. I haven’t been here before.”

Now it felt like he was baiting me, as though my correcting him on the veal issue meant that I was somehow more worldly than him. Apparently, this evening was going to turn into a pissing contest. Well, I might not be able to pee standing up, but I could hold my own.

“I’ve been really busy at work,” I said sweetly.

“An internship, right?”

I nodded. I already didn’t like where this line of questioning was going.

“Paid?” he asked.

“No, it’s a fantastic opportunity though. The investment group is doing really good work. In fact, it might turn into a job when I graduate.”

“Is it a nonprofit?” he spit the question out like it tasted bad in his mouth.

Yes, companies working for the betterment of society were to be looked down upon. The reasons why Luka and I were incompatible were stacking up higher than the ivory tower he was looking down from.

“No. It’s just a company with a conscience.” That was the party line. The one that was scrawled all over their website and brochures. Gavin would be proud.

“It sounds like you’ve drank the Kool-Aid.”

I could tell what he thought about that. I shrugged, tired of the interrogation, and him basically crapping on good people. It was time to turn the spotlight on him. “So what have you been doing?”

“I’m developing a new game for Microsoft. I’m on the lead design team.”