Fiction
An Error
He seemed nice. In reality, he was very different.
He’d seemed nice.
Zoe had noticed him — not for himself, but she’d noticed him noticing her. He was with a guy she knew, and she’d seen him looking. Not ogling a specific body part, which would have been creepy (who wants to be ogled?) but just looking, taking her all in, in a way that made it clear he admired her.
In a minute, he came over with their mutual friend.
“Hi,” said the friend. “This is Nathan. I don’t think you’ve met before.”
They’d chatted for a few minutes that night, which was enough time for her to form the “nice” impression. He was tall, skinny, and reasonably good-looking — not her usual type, maybe. (But if he liked her, he was attractive enough for her to start thinking about liking him.) He was definitely a few years older than her, with a tired-looking face. Black silky-looking shirt. A fraction too much cologne, but maybe she was being ungenerous — maybe his hand had slipped over the nozzle.
“I’m busy all the time,” he said, but in a way that didn’t seem braggy. “I’m always on the road between California and here. I run a small travel agency there. What about you?”
