What Love Looks Like (18 page)

        
We
walked back downstairs with Luna and into Goodale Park. It was dark and cool
outside, no more than fifty degrees, and there wasn’t another soul in the
usually congested park. Luna scurried around, and I watched her sniff what
looked like nothing to me but was probably a smorgasbord to her.

        
“She’s
a cool dog,” he said.

        
“Thank
you. Next time I’ll have to meet Woody.”

        
“Will
there be a next time?”

        
“Meaning
will we hang out again?”

        
“Yes.”
 

“I don’t see why
not,” I replied. “We’re friends, right?”

        
“That’s
good. I’d like to see you again outside of work. You’re awesome company.”

        
“As
are you,” I said.

        
Just
then I felt the energy in the empty, chilly park shift. My stomach felt light
and fluttery, and my cheeks felt warm. The mood shifted from carefree to
humorless. Ryan moved a few inches closer. I felt that curious sensation you
get just before a first kiss. Being seconds away from kissing someone who I’d
known for two years platonically was strange. We weren’t even on a date; we’d
only run into one another by chance (or was it by fate?). And yet I was certain
that he was about to kiss me. I hadn’t prepared myself to kiss anyone that
night, let alone Ryan Adler. I didn’t know how I felt about him now; all along
I'd thought that we were strictly friends. But I was drunk, and my inhibitions
had vanished with my second drink, so I didn’t fight the urge.

        
We
faced one another, and before I knew it he'd leaned down and placed his supple,
full lips softly onto mine. His warm mouth connected with mine for almost an
entire minute, but there was no physical contact apart from our mouths
touching. I wasn’t sure if the kiss felt right, but I knew that it certainly
didn’t feel wrong. We would have kept on kissing had Luna not interrupted us by
jumping at my leg to let me know she was ready to go home.
  

        
“Yeah,”
he said. “I
definitely
want to see
you again.” He pulled slowly away. He was smiling, and he gently rubbed the
small of my back for a second after our faces parted. It was comforting to feel
his massive hands on my body, as if he was equipped to protect me if necessary.

He walked me
back to my door where we said goodnight. We didn’t kiss a second time, but
instead we awkwardly smiled at one another and giggled faintly. I wondered how
we’d reached the point of kissing in the park. I wasn’t sure what Ryan was
thinking, but I knew that my confusion was greater now that we'd kissed. How
had it happened? Just two hours earlier, I was moping around in my ugly outfit
with untidy hair contemplating my life and barely able to get over the guy I’d
only just lost. Now I was kissing a different guy. And it was
Ryan
.

17

 
I
awoke dumbfounded the morning after Ryan kissed me. The encounter was almost
comical if only for its impulsiveness. There I was, unkempt and at a turning
point; and there he was, tidy and professional, always the picture of poise. I
didn’t know what to make of it. I wasn’t sure if it happened because we’d been
drinking, or if there was more to it than just elevated blood alcohol levels.
One thing I knew for sure, though, was that Ryan’s scent was mouthwatering. His
cologne was so faint that it was barely detectable, but it lingered in my nose
until the morning. I also knew that it was a good kiss, at least as good as a
first kiss could be.

Perhaps the best
part was that Jay was gradually starting to become more of a memory, and I
could focus clearly on the changes that needed to be made. I felt that I had
Ryan to thank for my peace of mind. For some odd reason, kissing him had
brought me a sense of lucidity that was previously foreign to me. I would,
however, have to work with him following the kiss. I always found it awkward
facing someone the day after I hooked up with him. Granted a kiss wasn’t really
hooking up, but the feeling was the same; it was still an unplanned moment of
intimacy with someone I considered a friend and colleague.

After the kiss,
Ryan took to calling my office every single day, sweetly saying that he’d
called not for anything work related, but just to hear the sound of my voice.
It was a romantic gesture, but were we going in the direction of romance or
not? It appeared that Ryan thought it was game on, but I wasn’t so sure. His
attentions were sudden and overwhelming, and more than Jay had ever done.

Romance or not,
I was perplexed. My feelings for Jay hadn’t vanished completely. He’d hit me so
hard, like a freight train. And after having been knocked down with such an
impact, I couldn’t make my feelings disappear on command, no matter how hard I
tried. I couldn’t eliminate every trace of the attraction I'd had for him by
sheer will and determination. Granted, I still hadn’t heard from him– not
via phone, text, or Facebook. And it still pained me to think about it when I
dwelled on it for too long. My wounds were still open, and they blocked me from
seeing the situation with Ryan clearly. As much as I appreciated the
distraction that Ryan provided, I was still dealing with the rejection and the
fact that Jay never gave me one iota of closure.

The phone on my
desk rang. I saw on the caller ID that it was Ryan’s restaurant. “Hello?”

        
“Hey,
Elle.”

        
“Hi,
Ryan,” I said coyly.

        
“How
is your day going?”

        
“It’s
good—a little slow, though.”

        
“I
had to hear your voice again.”

        
I
blushed and smiled. Maybe he did have some sort of effect on me. I just didn’t
know if it was strong enough to jeopardize our friendship.

        
“Well
that’s sweet,” I said.

        
“Ah,
I try. So when are you going out with me again?”

        
“Technically,
I didn’t
go
out with you the first
time. We ran into each other.”

        
“That’s
just semantics. I’d like to see you again, outside of work.”

Ryan asked me
out nearly every time we spoke. I put him off time after time, saying that our
working relationship was an obstacle to there being more between us. Of course,
that was only a half-truth. I wasn’t opposed to getting to know Ryan better,
but my lukewarm feelings for him paled in comparison to how I’d felt about Jay
from the moment I laid eyes on him. Within seconds, I was smitten. But perhaps
hankering after someone the way I had with Jay wasn’t the ideal way to start a
relationship. Maybe my feelings for Jay were
too
strong. My fascination with him had been out of proportion to
what he’d brought into my life. I’d immediately put him on a pedestal, one that
he didn’t deserve to rest on. My lust for him ended up screwing me and clouding
my judgment. Maybe starting a relationship as friends was preferable to
starting one as lovers.

I had to
acknowledge that there was a certain scandalous quality to a romantic
relationship with a coworker. And I could already see it being played out
between Ryan and me. I felt that I was doing something bad—sticking it to
the man (my corporate bosses)—and I liked it. Every time Ryan called me
at my office, he would speak quietly so as not to tip off his staff about who
was on the other end. In person we’d sneak glances at one another. While I was
unsure exactly how I felt about Ryan, I was enjoying the situation and I
appreciated his approach.

Ryan was clearly
a stand-up guy, as I knew from his actions and other people’s opinions of him.
His staff loved working for him. He didn’t party until all hours of the night.
He didn’t date multiple women at one time (unlike some other
men
I knew), and he called regularly. He
wasn’t big on texting, which I viewed as a good thing. Plus, I’d gotten to know
him as a person before I knew him sexually or romantically, and I liked what I
saw. Although I didn’t want “to mix business and pleasure,” if I didn’t go out
with him again soon he might lose interest completely. So about two weeks after
the kiss, I took Ryan up on his suggestion of having drinks at Smith &
Wollensky.

Our date fell on
a pleasant spring evening. The air was getting warmer, and longer days were
upon us. It was nearly sixty degrees and clear outside. I wore plain black
pumps with dark True Religion jeans. My hair was wavy, and I’d barely touched
up my makeup since applying it that morning. Unlike my dates with Jay, I put
little thought into what I’d wear out with Ryan, since I wasn’t overly
concerned with him judging me. After all, he had already known me for two
years, which meant he’d seen me during PMS, countless hangovers, and on days
when I went to work dead tired. He’d even kissed me in while I was wearing yoga
pants and rain boots, so I figured I could only rise in his estimation from
there.

Smith &
Wollensky was one of my favorite restaurants in Columbus and was also East
Coast Prime’s direct competition. We were often encouraged by corporate to
visit the competition and report back. I would have been more inclined to do
so, however, if they’d helped us with the bill. East Coast, as well as its
competitors, had exceptionally steep menu prices. Ryan of course, being the
more diligent, less disgruntled employee, had probably selected the restaurant
precisely because it was the competition. He rarely had nights off to shop his
competition, so I couldn’t fault him for trying to kill two birds with one
stone.

I ordered a
glass of Sauvignon Blanc while I sat and waited for him at the outdoor bar,
where a toasty gas lamp cranked out heat next to me. My mind turned to the
winter, the comfortable, isolating season to which I was so attached. Did I
actually love winter so because it was more conducive to being alone? Maybe my
never-ending need to hide myself so that I wouldn’t get hurt was reason I was
nearly twenty-nine and still single. I knew I had to literally put myself out
there, and maybe embracing spring was a good way to start.

 
It was late in the season, and that
spark of romance was in the air. I hadn’t told anyone at work yet that I’d been
talking with Ryan outside of the office; not even Maureen or Jenna knew my
whereabouts that evening. After the humiliation of being blown off by Jay, I
had decided to keep any new relationships to myself until I was sure they were
more than just flings. Ryan didn’t seem like the fling type, but it was still
too soon to be sure. My gut told me that he was different, but men never ceased
to shock and amaze me.

Ryan arrived
shortly after I did, still in his shirt and tie, his sport coat removed. His
sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, and he looked calm and handsome.
He waved and smiled when he saw me from across the bar. For a moment, I felt
butterflies in my stomach at the sight of him. I almost couldn’t believe it was
really happening. I was going out on a legitimate date with Ryan. And I was
actually excited about it! He seemed eager, and he was always such a gentleman.
So how could spending an evening with him be a bad thing?

“Fancy meeting
you here,” I said as he approached me.

“How kind of you
to finally give me the time of day.”

Ryan had tried
repeatedly to make the evening into a dinner date, but I wanted to take things
slow and steady. Even now, if Jay had requested a dinner date, I would have
been on a plane in two seconds flat; but that was because he was like a drug to
me and not because I really believed he deserved my company. I had to treat my
separation from Jay like a twelve-step program: one day at a time.

“So how’ve you
been?” Ryan asked, as though we hadn’t spoken every day for the past two weeks.

        
“It’s
been an underwhelming few weeks at the office.”

        
It
was nearly impossible not to talk business with him. It was one of the major
things that I knew for sure we had in common. Work had been slow that spring
and tended to get even slower in the summers, so I figured it was okay to vent
about it. East Coast Prime was more the
pinstripes-and-high-heels-by-the-fireplace kind of atmosphere, which didn’t
necessarily suggest breezy spring nights of sipping sangria at an outdoor bar.

“You look
incredible,” Ryan said.

        
He
was obviously just being polite, but it was sweet of him to say it. It was fun
being on a date again, and regardless of what happened between us, Ryan was
great company. He was talkative and gregarious once I really got to know him
and not at all who I thought he was for the first year and a half of our
working relationship.
 

He settled into
his seat and told me about his day. He claimed it was a short one for him,
though I didn’t consider ten hours short. I liked listening to him talk,
though, and he so rarely complained about anything. He had a pleasant way of
describing people. He complimented his assistant managers, always willing to
give credit where it was due and not feeling that he alone was responsible for
the massive success of his restaurant. He was eons away from the aloof, removed
person I’d once thought he was. I’d completely misjudged him and wished I’d
realized it sooner.