Free Better Than Friends by Lane Hayes

out with a handsome British guy, I wouldn’t have a chance to freak out about Jack.
    Or Cary. Other than our weekly calls to check in, I found I wasn’t obsessing over what was happening on the West Coast. I couldn’t do anything to help directly, but every conversation with my brother tended to end awkwardly. I wasn’t sure what I could do on my end to change that.
     
     
    P AUL AND I arranged to meet at a trendy new restaurant where a world-renowned French chef was master of the kitchen. Georges’ was packed. I could barely get in through the front door and was wondering if I’d ever find Paul in the sea of people as I made my way to the bar. I squeezed into a corner near the back of the counter and ordered a beer. I wanted something stronger but decided it was wise to keep my wits about me.
    Paul walked in just as a bottle was placed at my elbow. I waved him over and tried to signal that I wanted to get his order. He didn’t seem to understand my gesturing, if I read the puzzled look on his face correctly.
    “Hello!” he yelled above the din. “Our table is ready. Bring your drink along, all right?”
    Oh. Awkward. I was afraid I’d have to carry the bottle of beer through the posh crystal-laden restaurant, when a waiter discreetly picked up my drink and whisked it away on a tray. I smiled wanly and followed my date back to the front where a handsome young man with perfect posture directed us to follow him. The restaurant’s interior was exquisite. It was an old-world-meets-new-world design of crystal chandeliers juxtaposed with rough-hewn wood plank flooring.
    We were shown to a small semiprivate table for two. It was obviously a prime seat, and I was suitably impressed. When we were left with menus and a drink list, I finally took a good look at my date. Paul was a good-looking man. He looked refined and elegant in a navy blazer that brought out the blue in his eyes. I’d noted as we made our way to our seats that he was wearing khakis too and silently congratulated myself for choosing correctly.
    “This is a nice place.” Yikes… smooth observation. I was definitely out of practice.
    “It’s a new favorite of mine. I’ve been a time or two for lunch. Do you mind if I order a bottle of wine for us to share or would you prefer to stick with beer?”
    “Um, no. I mean, I don’t mind at all.” I could feel my cheeks redden. I hated feeling so uncomfortable. No wonder I hadn’t been on a date in forever. I was usually a confident guy who could easily converse with almost anyone. I hoped my skills would resurface. I didn’t want this night to be a disaster.
    Thankfully, Paul proved to be pleasant company. We talked about work and eventually got around to sharing “get to know you” information… family, friends, schools, etcetera. I know I was my usual obtuse self when it was my turn to share background stories about my family in particular, but he didn’t push. I was grateful on one hand but I had a sudden flash of memory about how effortlessly Jack read me based on the tiniest piece of personal information. I had found his power of perception to be unnerving but somehow refreshing.
    “Curt?”
    “Oh sorry! I spaced. What did you say?” Damn that Jack!
    Paul offered me a wry grin. He didn’t seem bothered by my lack of focus, but I was. It wasn’t like me. And when I considered how often I dined with handsome men with sexy British accents, I was almost concerned. I should have been hanging on his every word.
    “Would you like to grab a quick after-dinner drink? I know a nice spot a short walk from here. Sometimes there’s live music. Jazz mostly.”
    I studied my elegant dining partner before answering and smiled in agreement. Why not? Paul deftly accepted the bill and handed the waiter his card before I could do more than sputter my protest.
    “No, no. Now you’ll have to come with me for a drink.” He winked and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. The gesture was a little fussy, but