Page 27 of Unconventionally, Elle

Now

Me: You guys, I feel like a high school girl with a crush!

Sarah: So, you're like dating already?

Me: Well, not officially or anything. We have our date tonight.

Rach: Nice, Elle. When's the wedding?

Me: Shut up. A million years from now, if ever. Oh, by the way, I have some other news...

Sarah: Your article was published?

Rach: You're done outlining?

Me: Okay, well, yes, my article will be published, Sarah. My favorite optimist. And Rach, YES! I'm about 15,000 words into it!

Rach: Get it, Elle! So proud. Can I buy your first book? It has to be signed, though.

Sarah: How are you feeling about the competition in general? I know you have until the end of the year, but this is a huge feat. Like, I'd be freaking out.

Sarah: p.s. I'm proud of you too.

Me: So, like, I have all the feelings, right? Nervous I won't really fulfill Grandma's legacy. Ya know, the one she could have had.

Rach: Wait, what? Oh shit, I forgot you told us your grandma won this competition. How weird (but in a good way) that you are entering the same one.

Sarah: Omg. It's fate. You're going to win.

Rach: You're creating your own legacy, girl. We believe in you.

Me: Thanks, guys.

Rach: But question, what happens if they don't pick you? What's your plan?

Me: It'll be a blow, that's for sure. If I don't win, then am I really good enough to have a career as an author and not just a writer? I haven't told you guys, but my savings could use a boost. If I win, that's $5K!

Sarah: I believe in you, Elle. I think you following this path is worth it, and you'll discover just how good of a writer you actually are. I may have been an art major, but I remember those killer articles you wrote in the Duke newspaper. Your gossip column was completely Carrie Bradshaw-esque.

Rach: Elle, why didn't you tell us about your savings? You know Sarah and I are here for you. The offer still stands, I can help you get a job, and instead of the financial sector, you can try publishing. You never know, you might like it.

Me: Yeah? I don't know. I don't want to discount myself yet. I'm going to see this competition through and pick up projects with the magazine as often as they'll let me. This is so hard, but--and I don't know if this will make sense--it's not as hard as being miserable. I'm having fun.

Sarah: Totally makes sense. You're finding your happiness.

Rach: We're in your corner, let us know how we can support you throughout this process. We love you, Elle.

Me: You guys are the best. Idk what I did to deserve you.

Rach: So, one more question . . .

Me: Uh-oh

Rach: I'm not trying to be mean or to tell you what to do, but Sarah and I have seen you lower than low when it comes to Jude and being half in, half out with him. If you're seriously interested in Kale Guy, I think you need to give him 100% of you and let Jude go.

Sarah: Rach, not now. Let her be happy, she's going on a date tonight.

Rach: No, no, I just want to say that whenever Jude was (or is) kind of in your life, it doesn't typically end well. You get hurt. We don't want you hurt again, we don't want that darkness to come back into your life...

I studied Rachel's text message. I knew she was right, but also, I didn't want to care.

I was going on a date with Barrett, not Jude.

I was allowed to text Jude and be friends; it was mature.

I got help with that darkness; I had Tina now.

Back then, I didn't have the resources, I didn't have a therapist who cared, and I didn't know I could make it out.

Sarah: I think she's right, Elle. Either he's in or he's out. You were never able to balance both with Jude.

I stared at my phone and felt the familiar tightening in my chest and anger rising in my throat.

Me: Jude has a girlfriend. It's fine, guys. It's all fine.

Rach: Famous last words.

"Finn, I don't know what to wear!" I was standing in my closet pulling out outfits for my date with Barrett in a few hours. Most of them ended up on the floor.

"Elle, he already saw you in boxers and a ragged old T-shirt--oh wait--twice." Finn winked. "I think you'll be fine in anything you want to wear. He didn't ask you on a date because of your outfit choice." He smirked, so I threw the next dress at his face.

"Violence! Abuse!" he yelled playfully as I threw another dress at him, laughing.

"Finnnnn, seriously. Which do you like better? I think I've narrowed it down." I held up a navy-blue dress with a scalloped neckline in my right hand and a dark emerald-green dress with an open back in my left.

"Ohhh, I love, I love," he said as he evaluated both dresses. "I'm really in love with the green dress, though. It's sexy but not trashy. You'd look like a model in that dress."

My mouth curved slightly to one side, and the wheels in my mind were spinning. "Okay, I agree. This will work, then. Let me put it on so you can see the full effect."

Before Finn could respond, I shut my closet door and changed. I stepped out in the green dress and my neutral Prada heels.

"Wow! Holy shit, Elle." Finn's mouth was open, and surprise lined his face. "You are stunning. Absolutely gorgeous!" He raised his hands and clapped. "This is the one, absolutely this is the one."

I felt my cheeks get hot. It had been a long time since someone told me I was stunning.

Barrett arrived for our date five minutes before six o'clock. I watched from my bay window as he parked his Porsche, then walked up the steps to the main door. I took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in my stomach and anxiously waited to hear his knock on the door.

Within minutes, I heard a steady, confident thump thump thump .

My hand was shaking as I put my shoulders back and prayed I didn't mess up the night.

I was nervous, considering I hadn't been on a date since Jude and I were together.

Dating around was off the table when he left for New York; I didn't have the heart or the energy for it.

For some reason, Barrett intrigued me. Plus, I was starting a new life here, a new me.

I slowly turned the handle, and when he saw me standing before him, he gaped and stared right into my vibrant green eyes.

A few awkward seconds later, he cleared his throat. "Elle, you're... you're"--he rubbed his jaw and ran his fingers down to the tip of his chin--"you are absolutely gorgeous. Your green eyes are breathtaking in that dress."

I tilted my head down and noticed my body getting warm. I looked back up with a bashful grin on my face. "Thank you," I replied softly. I couldn't say another word. I was too lost in the sea of blue looking back at me.

We pulled up to a chic high-rise building in Seaport, a part of town I hadn't been to yet, but Finn told me it was very posh. The building was modern and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows and lush greenery around the entrance.

"So, the restaurant is new," he said when we stopped at the valet.

"They just opened last month, and it's had rave reviews on Yelp.

They are on the top floor and have the most incredible rooftop bar and dining.

" He paused and looked over at me. "I think you're really going to love this.

" Then he gave me another million-dollar smile and got out of the car.

The valet opened my door and offered me his hand.

Barrett walked around the car and, once I was standing, offered me his arm. "May I?" he asked.

"You're such a gentleman," I teased.

"I'd like to think so," he said with a crooked grin.

Our table was in an exclusive corner with a view of the river all around us. It was simply stunning as the city lights twinkled along the river and the stars lightly dotted the sky.

"I can't get over this!" I gawked. "It's gorgeous up here."

"I love the view too," he said, his gaze fixed on mine.

Before I could respond, the server came to our table, introduced himself, and asked if we wanted anything to drink other than water.

"May I have a dirty martini--Tito's, please--and three blue cheese-stuffed olives?" I said.

"Of course, madam. And you, sir?"

"I'll have a Johnnie Walker Blue, neat."

"Of course, I'll get those right away."

Smiling at Barrett, I took my napkin and folded it onto my lap. "So, tell me, I'm thoroughly impressed, but wouldn't most guys go for Italian on the first date?"

"Well, Elle"--he put enough emphasis on the end of my name to make my heart skip a beat--"my sister told me she'd disown me if I took her friend to an Italian restaurant on our first date."

The boisterous laugh that escaped my lips startled me, and I quickly slapped my hands over my mouth. Eyes wide, I noticed Barrett was turning red trying to hold in his laugh and there was a brilliant sparkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, so I knew I didn't want to take you out for Italian." He smiled largely and unfolded his napkin on his lap, then leaned his chin on his fist, his grin slight and warm. "Please tell me you like steak and seafood. Otherwise, we need to go to plan B."

"Or the rooftop bar." I tried to drink some water but ended up snorting into the glass. What was wrong with me? I'd never been this unhinged on a date.

"Seriously, that's not a bad backup plan. You saw all the firepits out there when we walked in, right?" His voice got lighter and excited.

"Oh my God, my favorite thing. Firepits and espresso martinis."

"But you ordered a Tito's, correct?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Barrett, you don't start with an espresso martini." I rolled my eyes flirtatiously.

"Fair point. Fair point, Elle Watson." He was nodding in approval.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the waiter come toward our table with our drink order.

"Have you had a chance to look over the menu?" he asked professionally as he placed our cocktails on the table. Barrett looked at me with another slight head tilt and a soft curve of his lips. I nodded and looked to the server.

"I'd like your scallops dish, please." I smiled and handed him my menu.