The Build Up (9)

I intervened. “My date will have the udon noodles with...” Fuck. I said “date.” I mean, technically, she was my date. My lunch date. This wasn’t a “date” date.

“Tempura shrimp,” Ari interjected, the smile slightly returning to her face.

“Yes. With the shrimp. Thanks. That’ll be all.”

The waitress then said, “Let me know if you need...anything.” The way she said “anything” was as though a side of sex was also on the menu.

“I think we’ll be fine,” I said with enough conviction in my voice that I hoped she got the hint that I wasn’t interested.

The waitress walked off, and I turned my attention back to Ari. She had gone quiet. Her head was slightly down as she scrolled on her phone. I reached out and touched her free hand across the table. Why can’t I stop touching her? Good grief. It was like I had an addiction.

“You good?” I asked, pulling my hand back swiftly.

Ari quickly looked up from her phone. “Yeah, of course!” She quickly turned her phone over. “I’m sure you get that a lot.”

“Get what a lot?” Now I was the one playing dumb.

“Servers throwing themselves at you,” Ari laughed, her lips curling into a tight smirk. “Hilarious. I think she thought we were on a date.”

“Right.”

Internally, I winced. I’d had the same thought, but hearing Ari say it out loud was like a stepping on a LEGO brick.

“It’s not cool. This chick is mad rude. And for the record, I don’t get servers throwing themselves at me on the regular.” I watched as Ari delicately put the napkin on her lap and opened her chopsticks, that smirk still across her face. She didn’t believe me. The goal was to get to know Ari, not talk about women and dates. That was making me uncomfortable.

“So...baseball, huh? Got any favorite current players?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t know a damn thing about baseball beyond home runs and grand slams. I’d grown up playing basketball with my brother.

Ari sat up a bit, the smirk turning into a warm smile. “I dig Mike Trout. Hell of an outfielder. Pretty speedy too for his position.”

“Wait? So, baseball players don’t like to run? Isn’t the point to run the bases?”

“I hate to sound biased but...”

We both laughed. Ari laughed so hard that her eyes were glistening, deep amber pools of light, reminding me of the changing leaves of fall. In that moment, I didn’t think she could be any more beautiful.

“You know, my love of baseball got me into architecture,” Ari said as she slid her chopsticks around the bowl of edamame.

“How so?”

“My dad. He loved baseball. The summer before I began college, my parents bought me a new car. My dad and I went on a tour of all of the major league baseball stadiums. We would have little adventures all the time. Just the two of us. That was the last solo trip that I took with him. He said it was my last trip as daddy’s little girl because I was officially an adult. I think I’ve seen every stadium in the league, well, at least before many of the old ones were demolished. I studied the construction. What made each one special. We had a blast.”

“Are you a daddy’s girl?” I asked, sheepishly. I didn’t have sisters and only a few female cousins. But I knew girls and their fathers usually had a special relationship.

“I was...”

Her voice trailed off, but the twinkle in her eye remained. I knew that look. I wasn’t a daddy’s boy, but I certainly had my fair share of memories with my dad.

Finally, she smiled, a faint, sweet smile. “He’s gone now but I’m still a daddy’s girl.” She brushed her hands away in a feeble attempt not to cry. I could see the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes before she quickly dotted them away with her napkin. I knew that pain all too well.

“I get it. I lost my dad too. Years ago, but I get it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Time can’t heal every wound.”

“Right. Well.” Ari shook her head, blinking away her tears. “That’s why this soccer stadium is so exciting! I get to help design a state-of-the-art stadium. Something my dad would have loved. How dope is that?”

The server brought our food, rolling her eyes as she slid our plates in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ari bite her lower lip, trying to suppress a laugh.

Over lunch, I learned so much about Ari. After Hampton, she graduated top of her class at Northwestern, earning a prestigious internship in Florence, and lived in London for a few years before returning to the States. She worked at one of the big three firms in Chicago before returning to Atlanta shortly after her father passed away. When her dad died, it was her sign to leave and be closer to her mother.

In between bites, I tried to get insight to her time in Chicago. “So, is that why you left such a big firm like Leland, Stokes, and Brandies? Because your dad died?”

Ari’s eyes avoided mine as she stirred her noodles. “Part of the reason,” she answered somberly.

A tension seemed to radiate in her body language, sadness now in her eyes at the mention of Chicago. There was a story there. I didn’t want to ruin lunch by pressing the issue further, so I didn’t.

The lunch wasn’t all somber topics and talking about work. I learned she was DC over Marvel, with Shuri being the exception. Ari was a native of Atlanta and loved all the home teams, which made me playfully groan because I was a devoted Saints fan. I didn’t disclose that yet because I still wanted her to like me. I made a mental note that our next lunch should be Mexican because that was her absolute favorite food. Tacos, according to Ari, were their own food group.