I was pacing back and forth in my bedroom, wondering if it was foolish to go out with Ian so soon after things ended with Harry. Regardless of whether I found Ian attractive - and I did - I just wasn't sure if it was wise to go out with him yet. It had only been a week since Harry broke up with me. I wasn't ready to open my heart to someone again, only to have it crushed again. 

But Ian didn't exactly hit me as hard as Harry did either. Sure, Ian was attractive and funny, but from the first time I saw Harry, I was infatuated. Come to think of it, maybe that's all my attraction to him had been. Yes, that was it, infatuation. He was the picture-perfect package, tall, dark and handsome, charming personality, rich. Yes, that was it!  I just fell for the image of the perfect man. Giving Ian a chance might be healthy for me. Not everyone was going to be as self-centered as Harry.

Ian had texted me, telling me to to go with something "upper casual" for our date, so I dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a yellow, off-the-shoulder blouse. I added a multi-colored necklace and a pair of earrings that I had created earlier in the day from my thrifting finds. I felt good about myself, and I thanked the September warmth for the fact that I could still wear my favorite sandals. 

Ian insisted on picking me up, so I told him to text me when he was five minutes away and I'd wait outside; that way he wouldn't have to find parking and then come up to my apartment. As I exited the building, Walter held the door and grinned widely, asking, "Going somewhere special with the doctor tonight?"

I smiled apologetically. "Um, no, things didn't work out between us. I'm just going to have dinner with a friend."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," Walter said, tipping his hat. "It's his loss."

"Thank you, Walter," I said to the sweet old doorman. As soon as I stepped into the late summer heat, Ian drove up to the curb. He leaned over to open the door and I grabbed it and climbed in.

"You look great," he said.

"You're not so bad yourself," I bantered. Dressed in dark jeans and a patterned button up shirt, which he'd left open over a plain white t-shirt, he looked the perfect definition of "upper casual." The shirt was pressed and his cologne was actually quite pleasant, as was our conversation. He was really funny and rather lively. A bit of a change from Harry. But a welcome change.

We went to a restaurant called The Kitchen, a surprising place that brought upscale and down home together. "How did you get inside my head?" I laughed as Ian and I were seated. "This place is fabulous. Suits my tastes to a T."

"I guess we have some things in common then," he said with a little wink.

The view was perfection, the food was phenomenal, and I had to say the company hit the spot. I really liked Ian and it felt like we were forming a fast friendship. He kept me laughing almost the whole night.

After dinner, Ian asked, "Do you like go-karts?"

"Go-karts? For real?"

"Yeah, if you're up for it, I know a place just north of here, both indoor and outdoor courses. What do you say?"

"Sounds fun," I said. "Haven't driven one in years."

We spent hours zooming around the race tracks and laughing like crazy. We took a break in between for a Coke and some popcorn, but after that, we were right back at it. Ian was competitive, that's for sure. I beat him two or three where he trounced me more times than I could remember.

When we finally left, I asked, "So do you always ask girls to do this so that you can prove how good you are? Sheesh, it's a good thing I don't let my self-esteem take a beating when I lose!"

"I guess I should have told you that I'm a professional go-kart driver," he joked.

When we arrived back at my apartment building, I had a feeling that Ian didn't want the date to end just yet. And to be honest, I didn't either; I was having a wonderful time with him. I threw caution to the wind and asked, "You wanna come in for a bit?"

"Sure," he answered, and the grin on his face spread wide. I directed him to the visitor parking area and we grabbed the elevator to my floor. "We could go up to the penthouse and, I don't know, throw eggs at Dr. Styles' door." 

"How did you know he lived here?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

"Word gets around," he said with a naughty little smirk on his face. Had he been asking people about my relationship with the doctor?

"Well, as much as I'd love to vandalize the man's dwelling with you, I think he'd know who did it."

"True," he laughed.

Entering my apartment, I made sure Ian was clear about things between us. "I had so much fun tonight and I didn't want it to be over. But I need to stay on the platonic side of things for now. I mean, I just don't want you to feel like a rebound."

"Hey," he took both hands in mine and looked me in the eye, which made me think he was going to say something sweet or thought-provoking. But with a straight face, he said, "I'm perfectly fine with being the rebound." We burst into laughter together, and he added, "But don't worry. I'm not going to push anything. I'm having fun, too."

"Have a seat," I said while I slipped my sandals off. "Do yo mind if I check my messages real quick?" 

"No, that's fine. I'll just find something on TV," he said, reaching for the remote. 

The only message I had was from Thomas. Thank you for the song. I don't care if it's country or whatever. It kind of says what I'm feeling right now. I'm ready to go. I just don't want you to be sad. Love you, T

Another message had appeared while I read the first one: Don't worry, I'll think of some way to let you know when you've found Mr. Right. Love, T

I should have escaped to the bathroom before reading messages from Thomas, but it was too late now as tears flowed freely down my face. I pretended to busy myself with getting glasses from the cabinet and trying to figure out which beverage to offer, iced tea or lemonade. But my sniffling gave me away.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ian asked, now standing at the edge of the kitchen. 

I grabbed a tissue and blotted my eyes before turning around. "Yeah, I'm okay." I smiled sheepishly, knowing my red, puffy eyes gave me away. "I should have waited to check my messages. Crying isn't allowed on a first date, or so I've heard."

"Well, you just made it clear that this wasn't a date, so I'll allow it," he said with a half-smile. "What happened?" He asked, and I knew his concern was genuine.

"Nothing happened, really. It's just...my cousin Thomas is dying, and we're really close."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," he interjected, taking a step towards me.

"Yeah, and anyway, I just got a message from him and every time, I think it could be the last one he ever sends." I grabbed another kleenex, cleaned up and took a deep breath. "Okay, well enough of that. I'm so sorry to be a downer. This isn't what you were expecting-"

He stopped and grabbed both hands like he did earlier, except I could see that this time he was serious. "Don't apologize. At all. Okay? I mean, this is something that you're going through right now, and you can't very well just put it off til the date's over. Excuse me, until the not-a-date is over. I'd be a real jerk if I didn't want to hear about your life, the good and the bad. I mean, I want to get to know you, you know?" He gave me a little smile.

"Thanks for understanding," I said, heaving a sigh of relief. "So, are you up for a movie or some boxing lessons?" 

I held my laughter til Ian gave in and asked, "Boxing lessons?" 

"Bridget is teaching me. I needed a way to work out some of my, uh, aggression," I said, now feeling silly for bringing it up. "You know Bridget, right?" 

"Yeah, I know her from work and the night we hung out at Navy Pier. Can't say I know her well, but yeah, she seems like a great girl."

"Well, anyway, she's becoming a really good friend. And so are you," I said, leading him to the couch. "I'm rescinding my offer on boxing lessons. Let's watch something funny."

I flipped through channels and landed on some stand-up comedy marathon, so we watched that for a few hours and laughed til our sides hurt. 

When it came time for Ian to leave, I hugged him and told him very sincerely, "Thank you so much for everything. I had a great time with you, so I really hope we can do this again."

"So do I," he agreed. "Soon." He leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the cheek, and then left. I felt very much honored by the fact that he didn't push anything romantic. And I loved the fact that we laughed so easily together. It turned out he was just what I needed.

After another 3-shift disaster, working alongside Doctor Styles, I was ridiculously happy to find out that Ms. Baxter had switched me to the day shift. I was so relieved to have no more reason to communicate with him. So what if he still lived in my building? It wasn't that hard to avoid him. 

I caught up with Bridget during my days off, and I asked her about making mosaics, so we decided to check out some more thrift stores and a few craft places as well. Upon arriving back at her apartment, she opened a door I'd never noticed before. It led to a small sun room which she devoted to her craft. 

"You never showed me this place before!" I gasped.

"Because it's always a mess," she laughed. "But I guess that wouldn't have mattered since you're artistic, too. You totally understand how messy creativity is."

"Absolutely. I would love to have a room like this so I never had to clean it up; I could just walk in and keep the creativity flowing."

Her response shocked me. "Maybe you should move out of your place then. You'd never have to see him again."

"Actually, Ms. Baxter moved me to day shift, so that's a huge relief. Of course, it stinks that I won't get to work with you as much."

"I'm surprised that Ms. Baxter did that for you," Bridget said with her eyes scrunched into a frown. "She must like you."

"Are you kidding? She doesn't like anyone," I replied.

"Very true," Bridget laughed.

_____

Ready for another double update???

This story is practically telling itself! I can hardly keep up.