I Met Him on a Tuesday: A Fictional Love Story

1:19 p.m.

"I can’t do lunch. I’m way behind today."

"You need to make time for some down time." That was my eldest brother, Sean. The bossiest big brother in town. You would think I was still 10 years old.

"Well, it won’t be today," I replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Time is money. And my time is a-wastin’ just sitting here talking to you."

"Well, if you can’t do lunch, how about dinner?"

"Dinner I can do." I replied.

Sean and I finalized our dinner plans. Nan’s at 6:30 p.m. Not too early, not too late. Not too far from my house and definitely good food.

6:12 p.m.

The day hadn’t gotten any easier since I’d made dinner plans earlier. My position in my small, quaint, secluded office in the suburbs had suddenly turned into a busy, booming plethora of responsibilities, with no room for rest. But, I wasn’t complaining. Deciding to start my own company was the best career move I could have made. Precision Publishing, Inc. was a desire of mine for years. Now, at age 30, I had self-published two of my own novels and had four writers on board. Our newest author’s city-wide book tour was our newest project and his collection of short stories was the talk of Atlanta. As Creative Director, it was my job to make sure his transition into the mainstream was smooth and effortless. It also left me with me little to no time. Technically, I stopped working at 5:30 p.m. But, today, I found myself multi-tasking: using my Blackberry to send emails, weaving through Atlanta traffic and pulling into Nan’s to meet my brother for dinner.

Valet was complimentary and as the young gentleman helped me out of my car, Sean pulled up behind me. Waiving excitedly, I walked briskly towards his car.

"Hey sis!"

Sean climbed out his 2008 Chrysler 300, and I almost forgot how tall he was. His pale green button-down shirt paired with black dress slacks showed off his 6'4" frame. We greeted with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Right on time," I said.

"You look good."

I smiled sheepishly, as I always do when any of my brothers compliment my looks. Relishing in the moment, I turned around slowly to show off my off-white DKNY pencil skirt suit which I’d paired with a gold dress blouse. Off-white pumps to match, of course.

"Why, thank you bro."

Sean chuckled at my fashion expose, shook his head and held out his arm, leading the way to dinner.

7:34 p.m.

By this time, Sean and I had caught up on the last two months we’d missed from each other’s lives. He was dating again. A young woman his age whom he’d met through a client of his while practicing real estate law at Goldstein and Associates.

Amidst all the catching up, laughing, disagreeing and eating, I’d noticed a gentleman who’d been eyeing me all night from the bar. The mystery man and his two friends shared drinks, while talking amongst each other. I caught his eye from across the room as he said his goodbyes to his friends. He was sitting alone at the bar making a phone call when I excused myself to the restroom and walked past him on the way. I held his gaze for what seemed like forever. His light brown eyes bore such a hole through me, I felt my temperature rise instantly. Before exiting the restroom, I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail, straightened my blouse and skirt and added some lip gloss to my pout. I pretended not to notice him as I walked past him a second time, close enough so he’d smell the scent of Armani Code in the air.

When I sat back down to join Sean at the table, he laughed as he sipped the last of his Pinot Grigio.

"Yo, you’re checking out the brother at the bar, aren’t you?"

"Uh, no," I said but knew I must have looked obvious in my intentions.

"Whatever," Sean replied with a chuckle. "Well, whether you noticed him or not, he sure did notice you." Sean got up from his chair and gently laid the money for the bill on the table.

"He’s coming over now," he said as he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before making an exit.

My head turned and sure enough the gentleman from the bar was headed my way. I was too shocked to even say goodbye to Sean. I quickly turned back around and composed myself. My first thought was to pretend as if I was leaving also. My second thought was...well I didn’t have a second thought. I decided on my instinct. As I got up from the table and gathered my purse and suit jacket, a hand pressed firmly against the small of my back. A cold shiver ran up my spine.

"You can’t leave yet." It was him.

"Oh really?" I replied.

"Well, feel free to leave if you have to. But, if I could have the honor of walking you to your car, my day would be fulfilled."

Smooth, I thought to myself. That could be good or bad.

"Sure."

"I’m Troy Knight," the gentleman said, extending his right hand, his left still planted on the small of my back.

"Pleasure to meet you, Troy. I’m Naomi Wallace."

"Nice to meet you Naomi," he paused.

Troy had also elected valet that evening and we both waited outside the restaurant for our cars to arrive. Our premature conversation was interrupted by his cellphone ringing. He politely excused himself and I took an opportunity to assess: well-groomed goatee, low cut fade. Clean shoes. White and blue button down shirt with dress pants. Top button unbuttoned. Caramel skin. Nice watch. No piercings. I could work with that.

"So, how about dessert?" Troy asked, hanging up from his phone call just as my car arrived.

I shrugged my shoulders with hesitance and glanced at my watch. 7:58 p.m. He could be a murderer Naomi, I thought to myself. You don't even know him girl. I used the best excuse in the book.

"Actually, I still have work to catch up on tonight. How about a rain check?"

"How long is the rain check good for?" I chuckled at his questioning. Cute.

"That depends on how eager you are to redeem it," I flirted back.

"Okay," his smile reflected dashing white teeth and a small dimple on his left cheek. He gently grabbed my wrist and took my Blackberry from my hand. He expertly navigated the phone's menu, inserted his number, "phone and cell," and scheduled himself into my calendar for Friday. Cafe Dupri. 7 p.m.

Troy closed my car door when I was safely ready to make an exit. He bent down to say his goodbye.

"Don't be late Ms. Wallace."

"I always keep my appointments."

With that, I pressed the gas.

He was still standing there, looking my way as I glanced in my rearview mirror.