by Lindsey Michelle
She knew he wouldn’t cut the date short. It wasn’t because he liked her – Tuesday could barely get a word in edgewise, did he even notice her there? – but because he could brag to his friends that he went out with this month’s It Girl. A photo spread of her had just appeared in the country’s highest read men's magazine. Her pear-shaped figure was the new trend. Men taped bikini-clad photographs of her in their bedrooms; both sexes admired a photo of her clad in a robe with a deep V in the back, exposing her smooth skin. All fell under the heading “His Girl Tuesday.” She wasn’t sure about the possessive headline, but she couldn’t complain. She was one step closer to her dream of being an actress.
“So I kind of hope you’re not planning on dessert...” her date said suddenly, snapping Tuesday to attention.
Thank goodness, Tuesday thought, we’re nearly through.
“No, no dessert,” Tuesday agreed. “Better turn in early.”
He smiled at her. “My thoughts exactly. I’m pretty eager to see what you look like out of that robe.”
Tuesday stared at him. She wished she could pull off throwing a drink in his face, but she’d never been able to exit smoothly. Instead, she carefully folded her napkin and walked out of the restaurant without a word.
She stood on the sidewalk as she waited for the valet to bring her car to the front of the restaurant. Another dull date, another man she’d never see again. Her friend Mindy kept setting her up, but Tuesday wished to focus solely on her career. Anyway, they had all been duds – she wanted someone fun, creative.
“They take forever, don’t they?” a male voice said.
Tuesday looked up. She hadn’t noticed the man standing next to her, He smiled as their eyes met. He was average height, slender, with wavy blond hair and blue eyes. Tuesday found him attractive, but she was used to ignoring the dozens of pickup lines she had heard recently.
She didn’t respond, but he spoke up again. “Slowest restaurant in L.A.”
Tuesday nodded. “Isn’t my first choice.”
“Mine either. It was strictly business, I’d never come here otherwise.”
“What do you do?” Tuesday asked.
“I’m a painter,” he responded, and then, to clarify, “I don’t think I managed to sell any paintings tonight.”
No wonder he wasn’t at this restaurant often, Tuesday realized. A painter couldn’t afford the prices.
He looked at Tuesday and asked what she did. Tuesday couldn’t help but hesitate – was he just being nice? All month she’d been recognized. Could she really be a nameless face to this adorable painter?
“A series of small jobs,” she replied, and before she could lose the nerve, “I’m June.”
She was born on a Tuesday in June, after all.
“Nice to meet you, June,” he replied. “I’m Kenneth.”
“Small portions, too,” he continued.. “In fact, I’m still hungry.”
She felt her own stomach growl, and almost giggled. “So am I!”
“June, I know we’ve just met, but it seems useless for us both to return home where we’re simply going to stare into our sad refrigerators,” Kenneth said.
“I say let’s meet at the highly acclaimed, very hip...” he trailed off, in mock suspense,” Mel’s Drive-In.”
Tuesday grinned. Should she? He was a complete stranger, yet she felt more connected to him than any of her other dates.
The valet finally pulled her car to the sidewalk. She smiled at Kenneth.
“Looks like I get a head start.”