He leans back in his chair after contemplating what I've just said about social media. "I have a love/hate relationship with it," he finally announces.
I frown as I put my knife and fork down. "Why?"
"I love catching up with mates on there, but I hate the business side of stuff I have to do on Facebook. My customers are always looking for an instant reply, which is not something I'm ever going to give them."
"So your business is on Facebook?" I'm not sure why I thought it wouldn't be.
He chuckles. "I'm not that backwards."
Pulling out my phone, I demand, "What's your business name?"
He gives me a look that I am sure would be the male equivalent to a female eye roll. "Tanner Ink."
His Facebook page comes up and I still as I scroll through his posts. Damn. Raising my face to look at him, I slump back in my seat and shake my head. Dropping my phone down on the table, I say, "You just sat there through my whole little speech about the importance of social media, not saying a word, letting me think you knew nothing about it, and yet you've got a following of nearly two hundred thousand on Facebook."
He stares at me for a moment. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on the table and says, "Is that a question, because it sounds like one?"
"No. Maybe…. Why didn't you say you've got this social media gig down?" I feel stupid for assuming he knew nothing.
His chest rises and falls on a sigh. "Sweetheart, I'm not the kind of man to brag about shit all over town. Yes, I work hard; yes, I learn what I need to so I can build my business; yes, I've achieved some awesome things in my life, but to me, that shit's not the important stuff in life. This"—he gestures between the two of us—"is more important to me. And that Facebook stuff? I got lucky when some celebrities promoted me, that's all."
And there he goes again—saying all the right things. The difference between him and other men I've dated, though, is that I believe what he's saying.
I'm about to reply when a guy walks over to our table and slaps Tanner on the back. "Tanner, man! Haven't seen you in months. How the hell have you been? And where have you been? Last I knew, you were with Vanessa." He eyes me as he says this, and I can't decide if he's said it to piss me off or out of a genuine interest in what his friend has been doing.
One look at Tanner, though, and I realise this man isn't a friend as far as he's concerned. His displeasure is written all over his face and his body has stiffened in a way I haven't seen yet. "Dwayne, can you not see I'm in the middle of dinner?" His voice carries a warning tone and his laid-back attitude has disappeared.
Dwayne reads his mood and takes a step back. "Sorry, dude. You need to call me sometime soon, I want more ink done and no one does it as well as you."
"I'm booked for the next three months, but Zac can fit you in." He folds his arms over his chest as he says this and waits silently for Dwayne to reply. Tanner has more patience than I've seen on any man and I find that impressive. My father had a temper and zero tolerance for pretty much everything, and while I struggle a little with mine, I don't love a quick temper on a man.
Dwayne slaps him on the back again. "Cool, cool. I'll book in with him." He eyes me again for a moment before looking back at Tanner. "I'll see you around, yeah?"
"Sure," he agrees, but even I can tell he doesn't mean it.
Dwayne appears to buy it, though, and with a grin, he nods and saunters in the direction of a table a few over. When I give my attention back to Tanner, his body is still quite tense as he watches me. "I take it you don't like him."
He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes his shoulders. "He's an old client of mine and nothing more, but the guy thinks we're friends. As far as I'm concerned, he's a fool and not the kind of person I want to spend any significant time with, but he never wants to take no for an answer."
"And Vanessa was an old girlfriend?" I'm dying to know more about her. Usually I wouldn't be so forward with someone I hardly know, but I feel comfortable enough to ask him.
"She was, and she's the only woman I've ever lived with. We dated for a couple of months and she moved in after her flatmate asked her to leave. It was only supposed to be for a week or so, but she stayed for five weeks before we broke up. Turned out we weren't compatible after all."
"You argued too much when you lived together?"
He reaches for his drink and takes a sip before elaborating. "Not at all. The reason we weren't compatible is because I'm not the kind of man who tolerates cheating, and she was the kind of woman who cheated."