Timothy by Greg Herren Read Free Book Online Page B

us?”
    â€œI—” I had planned out everything I was going to say, spent the better part of the morning working on witty opening lines in my head as I wandered from store to store, coming up with clever bons mots that would impress him with my sophistication and intelligence.
    But now that he was standing directly in front of me with an amused smile on his handsome face, my tongue tripped over itself and I couldn’t remember anything I’d planned to say—even the stupid lines I’d dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, and I finally managed to blurt out, “Valerie’s not feeling well. I would have called…”
    â€œBut of course you didn’t have my number, nor did you know where I was staying,” he finished for me, his smile never wavering. His face relaxed and his eyes lit up. “I do hope that you will take pity on me under the circumstances, and join me so I won’t have to lunch alone? I really don’t like eating alone, Church Mouse. It would be an enormous favor to me.” He sounded completely sincere.
    â€œI—of course, I’m sorry, I—” I stammered, wishing a hole would open up in the sidewalk and swallow me. I had hoped—but never dared to believe he would actually want my company.
    â€œLet’s go inside, then, and get out of this sun,” he replied. He took me by the hand and led me inside. He caught the attention of the hostess, and we were seated a table with a lovely view within a matter of minutes.
    As soon as I sat down, I hid my reddened face behind a menu.
    â€œDo you intend to hide behind your menu until we order?” he asked in pleasantly amused tone, and I didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling at me.
    Now even more mortified, I lowered the menu. He was indeed smiling, but had lifted his left eyebrow and cocked his head to one side as he looked at me from across the table. I could feel even more blood rushing to my face—which surely was by then turning am even darker shade of purple.
    I wanted to get up and run out of the restaurant.
    He laughed, reaching across the table and patting my hand. “You need to just relax and enjoy yourself, Church Mouse,” he said in a soothing tone. “I’m not going to bite you. It’s a beautiful day, we’re about to have a wonderful meal, and we can use this time to get to know each other better.” He tilted his head to one side again, narrowing his eyes in an appraising way. “Surely you’re not this shy?” He said it almost like he was talking to himself. The delighted smile on his face grew even wider. “Perhaps you are, at that. How old are you?”
    â€œTwenty-three,” I replied, raising my chin a little defiantly when he laughed yet again. I bristled a little. I knew I looked younger than my age—I was always carded when I went out to buy Valerie’s cigarettes for her. It was annoying.
    â€œBut you’re just a baby!” He sounded delighted, and his eyes twinkled, his amusement growing as I shifted in my chair.
    â€œI’m not.” I managed to get the words out as our waiter placed glasses of ice water in front of us. He started laughing, and I felt myself growing more indignant. “Please don’t laugh at me. I’m a college graduate, and I’ve been living on my own for the last year in New York.” I couldn’t decide whether I was angry, embarrassed, or just plain foolish.
    Things were definitely not going the way I had hoped.
    And my words didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, he only laughed harder. My cheeks burned with mortification until he finally wiped at his eyes with his napkin and got hold of himself. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, a contrite look on his face. “There’s nothing worse than being laughed at, is there? It’s just—” He let his voice trail off. His eyes got serious. “I