Still Fine at Forty Read Online Free
Author: Dakota Madison
bit of a crowd because then I wouldn’t stand out as much. Mel chose a small two-seat cocktail table and we both perched on the stools.
When the waitress came over to our table, we both ordered glasses of Chardonnay. I glanced around the bar. There was certainly no shortage of men in the immediate vicinity but most of them were older than us by at least ten years. Not that I had anything against older men. I hadn’t given it enough thought to even establish any kind of preference for whom I might want to date. Since there weren’t hordes of men lining up to date me, did I even have the right to be picky? Maybe a temperature and pulse were enough when you’re middle-aged and getting back into the dating game Ugh, how I hated those two little words. Middle age. It made me feel ancient.
When the waitress returned, she gave us each our glasses of wine then leaned in close. “Your tab is being taken care of by the gentleman at the far end of the bar.”
Mel gave me a little Cheshire cat grin. She waited for what seemed like an eternity before she lifted her glass and turned in the generous man’s direction.
I noticed an older man, looking to be in his mid-50s raise his glass to us and smile. He was wearing a green polo shirt and dress slacks. He had a bit of a paunch but not the worst I had ever seen. I was glad to see he still had a thick head of hair, even if it was completely grey. I guess he would be considered attractive, but he was definitely not my type. Not that I really knew what my type was. I just knew he wasn’t it.
Mel turned back to me. “Is he still looking at us?”
I glanced up and he was still gazing in our direction. I no dded.
“Good,” she said as she grin grew wider. “It’s time to go.”
Confused, I took a big sip of the wine the waitress had left. It was delicious and I was sorry to leave the rest of the glass. I noticed that Mel hadn’t even touched hers. “Aren’t you even going to drink the wine?”
She shook her head. I had no idea what she was doing but she seemed confident in her approach. We both stood and exited the bar. She didn’t look back. She didn’t do anything to acknowledge the man again. I found it both strange and fascina ting.
We headed to The Patio on Oak Creek for dinner. The place was upscale but very intimate. The sun was getting ready to set and the outdoor tables right on the shoulder of the creek were perfect. I had never had dinner with the lovely sound of the creek as background music. It was divine.
I was glad we actually got to drink the wine we ordered. And we followed it up with delicious tomato bisque soup, then a main course of Chilean Sea bass, which seemed perfect with the creek setting. We decided upon a lighter desert of seasonal fruit and crème.
On the walk back to the hotel, Mel reminded me of the plans for the following day.
“We have to get up early,” she said. “We’re booked on a Jeep tour. It’s supposed to be the best way to see the sites of Sedona.”
“How early is early?” I asked. “We’re supposed to be on vacation.”
“He’s picking us up right outside the hotel at 8:30.”
I cringed.
“This is supposed to be the best Jeep tour company in Sed ona,” she continued.
I raised an eyebrow. “Says who?”
“Their website.”
I just shook my head. I was stuck on a Jeep tour first thing in the morning.
***
When the phone rang, I jumped out of bed. For a moment, I forgot where I was. On vacation, in Sedona, I slowly remembered as I realized there was no dog on the bed with me. No dog to kiss me awake and let me know he needed to go out. What time was it, I wondered as I looked over at the clock. Eight! How did I oversleep that much? I always got up at 6 a.m. I hadn’t overslept in 20 years.
The phone continued to ring. I picked it up.
“I’m so sorry,” Mel said. I wondered why she was sorry. Already. We hadn’t even been in Sedona for twenty-four hours. Usually it took her a day or two to
When the waitress came over to our table, we both ordered glasses of Chardonnay. I glanced around the bar. There was certainly no shortage of men in the immediate vicinity but most of them were older than us by at least ten years. Not that I had anything against older men. I hadn’t given it enough thought to even establish any kind of preference for whom I might want to date. Since there weren’t hordes of men lining up to date me, did I even have the right to be picky? Maybe a temperature and pulse were enough when you’re middle-aged and getting back into the dating game Ugh, how I hated those two little words. Middle age. It made me feel ancient.
When the waitress returned, she gave us each our glasses of wine then leaned in close. “Your tab is being taken care of by the gentleman at the far end of the bar.”
Mel gave me a little Cheshire cat grin. She waited for what seemed like an eternity before she lifted her glass and turned in the generous man’s direction.
I noticed an older man, looking to be in his mid-50s raise his glass to us and smile. He was wearing a green polo shirt and dress slacks. He had a bit of a paunch but not the worst I had ever seen. I was glad to see he still had a thick head of hair, even if it was completely grey. I guess he would be considered attractive, but he was definitely not my type. Not that I really knew what my type was. I just knew he wasn’t it.
Mel turned back to me. “Is he still looking at us?”
I glanced up and he was still gazing in our direction. I no dded.
“Good,” she said as she grin grew wider. “It’s time to go.”
Confused, I took a big sip of the wine the waitress had left. It was delicious and I was sorry to leave the rest of the glass. I noticed that Mel hadn’t even touched hers. “Aren’t you even going to drink the wine?”
She shook her head. I had no idea what she was doing but she seemed confident in her approach. We both stood and exited the bar. She didn’t look back. She didn’t do anything to acknowledge the man again. I found it both strange and fascina ting.
We headed to The Patio on Oak Creek for dinner. The place was upscale but very intimate. The sun was getting ready to set and the outdoor tables right on the shoulder of the creek were perfect. I had never had dinner with the lovely sound of the creek as background music. It was divine.
I was glad we actually got to drink the wine we ordered. And we followed it up with delicious tomato bisque soup, then a main course of Chilean Sea bass, which seemed perfect with the creek setting. We decided upon a lighter desert of seasonal fruit and crème.
On the walk back to the hotel, Mel reminded me of the plans for the following day.
“We have to get up early,” she said. “We’re booked on a Jeep tour. It’s supposed to be the best way to see the sites of Sedona.”
“How early is early?” I asked. “We’re supposed to be on vacation.”
“He’s picking us up right outside the hotel at 8:30.”
I cringed.
“This is supposed to be the best Jeep tour company in Sed ona,” she continued.
I raised an eyebrow. “Says who?”
“Their website.”
I just shook my head. I was stuck on a Jeep tour first thing in the morning.
***
When the phone rang, I jumped out of bed. For a moment, I forgot where I was. On vacation, in Sedona, I slowly remembered as I realized there was no dog on the bed with me. No dog to kiss me awake and let me know he needed to go out. What time was it, I wondered as I looked over at the clock. Eight! How did I oversleep that much? I always got up at 6 a.m. I hadn’t overslept in 20 years.
The phone continued to ring. I picked it up.
“I’m so sorry,” Mel said. I wondered why she was sorry. Already. We hadn’t even been in Sedona for twenty-four hours. Usually it took her a day or two to
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