The Chase

 By Brenda Bowen Wright

March 2019

I sit down on the slippery restaurant chair and nearly miss the seat entirely. In the process of gaining control of where I was placing my behind, I upset the elegantly folded napkin, knocking it to the floor. Hoping no one saw this minor faux pas, I glance ever so casually to my left to see who might have been a witness. 

All seems reasonable to the left, now act casual by putting your elbow on the table and resting two fingers lightly on your chin. Now gaze demurely straight ahead. Great, no one is looking at me from in front. I shall tip my head as if stretching my neck and then I can gracefully gaze to my right.

What? Damn him. I put my head down and fiddle with my skirt. There's a man sitting alone at a table. His legs are cocked out in front of him and his arms are folded across his chest. Was that a silly grin on his face? Pretend you didn’t see him the first time and casually look in that direction again. Damn, he is still looking straight at me.

I will stare him down. I tip my head, turn and make my best what-the-hell-is-up-with-you look. He promptly chuckles and pulls his feet in towards his body. Then he leans forward onto the table with one elbow and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. Still staring, he raises one eyebrow? Why that saucy, smug, jerk. This one needs to be ignored.

I pick up my purse and rummage through it as if the answers to all my problems are right there, right in my purse. Think calmly, breathe deeply. What can I be looking for? If all else fails, always go for the lipstick. I open the tube and lightly dot my lips and carefully place all my possessions back in my purse. Yes, an old deposit slip. Where is my pen? That will make me look occupied. I put the paper on the table turning my back to him as much as possible and pretend to be very busy writing. 

After a few moments, I figure I better see what the man is up to. He does have on a gorgeous suit.

I look over his way once more. When our eyes meet, he lifts his wine glass and waves me over. I scrunch my eyebrows giving him my what-kind-of-a-girl-do-you-think-I-am look.

He laughs again and points to himself and then to the empty chair next to me. Then he does a sweet baby face and puts his hands together real prayerful like. My hell, is that a beg?

I shake my head quickly. Of course no. I’m not expecting anyone, but I will not give him the pleasure of succumbing to him. 

The waiter comes, and I do all my ordering taking extra precaution to act like I am an extremely confident woman and can handle everything. Nothing bothers me, I am in control. I resettle my napkin on my lap and think about another peek to see what staring man is up to. I turn my head, and no one is there. Seriously, he left? Ah well, so much the better, now I can eat in peace rather than play stupid games. 

I pick up my glass goblet for a refreshing game-over sip. 

“I’m right here, ma’am.” 

I flinch and let loose a scream launching the goblet. The glass shatters at staring man's feet. I open my eyes to see water and glass shards spray up the leg of his suit pants and drench one of his shoes.

 “Looks like you’ve marked your territory, ma’am.”