Hello, again! Chapter 2, as promised! I wrote the majority of this on my lunch break at work and though I did go over it, I'm sure there are a few mistakes, but I didn't want to keep picking at it. I thought it would be best just to post it. Everyone had some great thoughts about the first chapter so I hope everyone likes this one just as much.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Talker

I hang up the phone and then hang my head, burying my face in my hands.

"Why did I just agree to that?" I groan.

My best friend, Alice, just called me after somehow hearing about my date last night and my resolution. She was asking (okay, more like demanding) to give out my number to a couple of guys she knew that she thought I'd get along with. And when Alice wants something, you give in to her or suffer the consequences.

The man I was being set up with tonight was supposed to have a lot on common with me. According to Alice, he liked to read, came from a small family, enjoyed spending time in nature and had even read a few of the articles I wrote for the local journalism newspaper I worked for.

Alice assured me he was also a meat-eater.

I spend my afternoon cleaning my small apartment and go over a few of my newest pieces I wrote before sending them off to my editor. One of them is about Ebola (yuck) and the other is about the new discoveries of the health benefits of coffee.

At six, I take a shower and change into my new red dress. I pair it with my red pumps (the ones that Alice calls my "hooker heels") and red lipstick to match. To break up the color a bit, I wrap a wide black belt around my waist and, of course, I grab my lucky sparkly purse.

Because Alice knows I love it, I'm meeting my date—Jacob—at La Botte. On my way there, I pray that tonight will be better than last night.

Like usual, I'm early and the hostess is once again Tanya. Surprisingly, she remembers me. Though, I suppose that's something her job requires.

"Hello, again," she smiles when I reach her. "You're back!"

"Yeah, I thought I'd have better luck in round two," I tell her, making her giggle.

"I'll keep my fingers crossed," she says, tucking her silky hair behind her ear. "What's the name tonight?"
"Jacob," I tell her, and when she doesn't find the name on her list, she offers to take me to a table.

Once seated, I look around curiously, wondering who my waiter could be. Just as I'm hoping it might be Edward again, the man himself saunters up to my table.

"Back for more spaghetti?" he asks, his smile mischievous. "Or have you converted to vegan-ism?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," I moan, covering my face with my hands. "That was the worst date I've ever had."

"Oh, I've had worse," he says when I look up.

"Do tell?" I request, raising a brow.

"Maybe on our first date," he says, winking. I feel my face turn red and look down, placing my thumbnail between my teeth nervously. He chuckles. "I'll bring you a glass of wine."

I mutter my thanks quietly and as soon as he's out of sight, I smooth my dress and scrunch my curls to give them extra bounce. I consider checking myself out in the back of my spoon when I see a man walking toward my table.

He's good looking, there's no doubt about that, with his tan skin, dark hair and blinding smile; I also can't help but notice how tall he is. I'm sure that if I were to stand up, he'd tower ridiculously high over my five foot four frame, maybe even by a foot. Probably higher, actually.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, straightening the collar of his dark blue shirt and offering his hand. "I'm Jacob."

"Bella," I say; his massive hand makes my own look like a child's as we shake. "And you're not late, I'm always early so I give people that illusion."

He chuckles; the sound is deep and warm.

"What's good here?" he asks, picking up his menu. "I've never been."

"Well, I-" I began, but he talks over me.

"I mean, I've been to Italian food before, but never someplace this nice," he says, his eyes on the list of food. "I love it, though. I eat it all the time. Sometimes once a week! Well, mainly I eat pizza,. My favorite thing to order is thick crust with extra cheese. Every once in a while I go wild and even melt my own on it. I guess you couldn't really call pizza Italian food, could you? Unless you get it from a place like this! Have you ever had the pizza here? Is it good?"

"Um, I dunno," I mumble meekly and he's off again.

"Man, I love pizza," he says, and then his eyes light up. "Oh! Doctor Pepper! I love Doctor Pepper! Almost as much as Mountain Dew, but my roommate says that I really shouldn't have that much sugar at once."

He laughs loudly, causing a waiter at a nearby table to spill the water his trying to pour. It splashes all over the table and onto the floor.

"I can imagine," I say, smiling politely. Thankfully, Edward appears to take our order.

"Good evening, folks," he says, hands on his hips again. "What are we having tonight?"

I open my mouth to order but Jacob beats me to it.

"I think we're going to share an extra large cheese pizza," he says, grabbing the menu out of my hands and handing it along with his own to Edward. "I'll take a Doctor Pepper, and keep the refills coming!"

Edward looks at me with a raised brow and I smile grimly.

"Yeah, keep my refills coming too," I say.

"Sure thing," he grins, and as he walks away, I hear him chuckle.

While we wait for the pizza to arrive, Jacob regales me with how his day went (good, especially when he found that Snickers bar in the bottom of his gym bag), how he had cold pizza for breakfast, and that he only has two more finals before the semester was over.

"Wait," I say, holding my hand up to stop him as he describes the boring teacher he has for his music appreciation class. "You're just taking a few extra night classes, right?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, his thick brows knitting together.

"I mean, you're just taking a few classes after work, right?" I continue.

"Nope, I'm a senior now," he says happily. "I just turned twenty-one. Finally legal, yeah!"

He ends his statement with a fist pump and then downs his second glass of soda. I sigh heavily and gulp down my first glass of wine, definitely ready for my second.

Twelve slices of pizza later—that's two for me and ten for Jacob—and the conversation still hasn't steered toward myself, but Jacob is still going strong. I now know just about everything about his life in college, the last three girls he dated, how many miles he's hiked and how many books he's read. That's an easy one to remember: none. He has, however, read every Spiderman comic known to man and the articles of mine he read was while he was on the toilet and desperate for some reading material because he didn't have his phone handy so that he could play Candy Crush Saga.

"And then—oh, hang on." He pauses in his story about his awesome game of beer pong last weekend to check a text message on his phone. He reads it and then lets out a whoop. "Bella, the guys just got together for another beer pong tournament. Wanna come? It should be sick!"

"As tempting as that sounds, I really should get going," I tell him, acting as though I'm genuinely disappointed. "But tonight was great."

"Yeah, it totally was," he says, missing my sarcasm. "Night, Bella."

He leaves before I have a chance to say goodbye. I lean over and bang my head on the table a few times, felling both ancient and idiotic after going out with a guy that could be my little brother.

"Now, he was a keeper."

Edward is at my table, bill in hand again. I groan at the sight of it and reach into my purse.

"Did he skip out on it too? Damn it," I say, pulling out my debit card.

"No, he paid," Edward says, and then holds up a crisp twenty. "Big spender, this one."

"Geez," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "How much was the total?"

"Only about forty," he says, accepting the two tens I fish out of my wallet.

"Wait, what about the wine?" I ask, looking down at my glass. It had been refilled three times, and Edward didn't skimp.

"I just charged you for half a glass," he says, giving me an apologetic look. "Two nights in a row deserves some free booze."

"Thanks," I tell him as I stand.

I get to my feet and then wobble a little; a hand shoots out, gripping my arm to steady me.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, sounding concerned.

"Oops, I forgot to drink water," I giggle, feeling tipsy. "I always forget to drink water."

"Didn't your date offer to drive you home?" Edward says, clearly annoyed.

"No," I say slowly.

"But he knew how much you had." Edward narrows his eyes.

"I'm sure he did, but he's a college boy, so he probably thought it was no biggie," I shrug, making Edward snort.

"College boy, wow," he says, shaking your head before turning serious again. "Do you need me to drive you home?"

"I barely know you," I point out, and his grip on my arm lessens.

"Right," he says with a single nod. "Do you have anyone to call?"

"Yeah, my friend can come get me."

He nods again, his gaze lingering on mine. His expression is so soft and his eyes...his eyes are the deepest green I've ever seen. They're not blue green, or olive green... they're like forest green. Not the crayon, but the kind you see on the leaves while you walk through the giant trees of-

I shake my head, like I'm trying to shake away my thoughts, and tear my eyes away from his. He clears his throat quietly and then finally lets go of me.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay," I say quietly, pulling my phone out and pressing the speed-dial to call Alice.

"Be safe, Bella," he whispers.

I wait for my ride on the sidewalk outside and decide to have a piece of gum to clean the taste of wine and pizza from my mouth. I put my hand in my purse for the package I know is in the little zipper section of the bag, and my hand hits a square cardboard box. Looking down, I find a to-go box that looked just like the one my spaghetti was put in, only slightly smaller.

I pull it out and pop the lid open.

Inside is a cannoli.

Isn't he the sweetest? I'm sure you all know who put the dessert there. FYI: Cannolis are one of my most favorite things! The restaurant in the story is a real one from my hometown (run by a family from Italy, the owners are Mama and Nick. Such a cute couple! And it's pronounced La Boat-ay. The 't' is more like a 'd' and the last part is like saying the letter 'a'. Hope that's not too confusing!) and they make awesome cannolis.

Thanks for reading! See you tomorrow!