Step Four- Regroup

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I'd like to say that I held my head up and smiled. That I straightened my back and introduced myself properly. I didn't do any of those things. No, I grabbed my phone from his big hands, said sorry and high-tailed it out of there with the little dignity I had left.

            The man had seen my breasts. How could I look him in the face? No, there was no coming back from that first impression, which was a shame because those lips...

            Back at home, in a dry shirt and cut-off shorts, I prepped shrimp and veggies for a stir-fry dinner. Cooking always made me feel better. Whether it was chopping carrots or whisking egg whites, I always felt more calm when I was in the kitchen.

            The rice-cooker beeped and as I went to check it, keys jiggled in the front-door lock.

            "Well, well, if it isn't the runaway bride." Gina said, by way of greeting.

            "Runaway—girl, what are you talking about?"

            "Hey, you never know." She dropped her bags on the floor then picked them up when I flashed her a warning glare.

            "That man could've been—excuse me, could be your future husband."

            "Well, if that's the case, he won't be too bothered by today's chain of events."

I transferred the rice into a wok, along with the sautéed shrimp and vegetables. Gina attempted to spear a shrimp with her fork, but I smacked her hand away.

            "Oh, come one. It's the least you can do after ruining the date I set up."

            "I ruined it? He's the one who ran into me!" I said, tossing the wooden spoon onto the counter. "And what part of "he saw my breasts" did you not understand?"

            "So! Those things haven't exactly been under wraps."

            "Oh, shut up. I'm serious." I nudged her arm. "How am I supposed to face him? I don't even know his last name and he's already been to second base!"

            "Again, if you're going to run away from every dude that saw your—"

I slapped a hand over her mouth.

            "If you insinuate that I'm...a garden tool, one more time..."

Gina raised her hands in surrender, and I released her flapping lips.

            "But—"

            "Shh!" I warned. "Others have seen them, yes, but not without spending a measure of time with me first."

            I grabbed the spoon and continued to mix the ingredients. My stomach growled.

            "That's true, but can't you just pretend it didn't happen when you see him again?"

            "How can I pre—wait, see him again? What, did he say something?"

            "I don't know." She said, grabbing a shrimp and tossing it into her mouth. She hummed a tune as she pulled bowls and utensils from the pantry, and set them on the table along with two glasses of ice.

            "Seriously? You're not going to tell me what he said?"

            "Nope!"

While she poured the lemonade, smiling like a lunatic, I was left to think on my own. Did he really want to see me again? Why? When I thought about what happened, I shuddered. Definitely the worst, first-impressions ever made. Then again, he was a man and most men enjoy a flash of nipple here and there.

            "What are you thinking about over there?"

            "Huh?" I snapped out of thought.

            "You're over that gazing into la-la-land."

            "Oh. It's nothing."

I turned off the stove and poured the food into a large serving bowl. When everything as on the table, we sat down, said grace and ate. I knew the food was good, I'd made it, but I couldn't taste a single bite. My mind kept drifting back to those hooded eyes.

            "What is he?" I asked.

            "What is who?"

I really wished she wouldn't talk with food in her mouth. I'd tried coaching her on several occasions, all failures.

            "Christian. What nationality is he?"

            "Oh." She paused to gulp down some lemonade. "He's Korean."

             "Ha! So that's why you forced me to watch those shows!"

            "Forced you?" She said, pointing a fork at me. "You're the one who kept saying, "no, let's watch one more, let's watch one more."

Her impression of me was completely off the mark, but I laughed anyway.

            "Are you going to tell me what he said or not?

            "Not. But I will give you what he asked me to."

She got up and rifled through her messenger bag. When she came back, she slid a piece of paper across the table. "I was supposed to give it to you a few days ago."

            "What is it?" I asked, without looking.

            "His number."

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A/N

Another short and sweet chapter! So, it's opinion time!!!!

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