“Yes, it’s right here by my bed.”

“Good. Okay, open it. Take out the first item labeled number one and unwrap it.”

My heart was racing as I carefully took it out of the box and opened the packaging, which revealed a sunshine lamp. “Oh, my goodness, you’re giving me sunshine?”

“It’s supposed to simulate daylight, yes. Do you have a place to plug it in?”

“I do.” I took it out of the box before connecting the plug to the socket behind my night table. As the lamp lit up my room, I smiled. “It’s nice and bright in here now.”

“Okay, now you have your sunshine. No more excuses for a bad day.”

“This is awesome. Thank you.”

“Now, if you were here, the first thing I would want to do is show off a little by taking you to my business. So, go ahead and open number two.”

Feeling giddy, I removed the wrapping from around item number two. My mouth curved into a smile upon the sight of an adorable replica lunch truck with a decal on the side featuring the Landon’s Lunch Box logo.

“Your truck!”

“I thought you might like that.”

“You have these made?”

“Yes. They’re limited edition.”

“You know I’m obsessed with this lunch truck, right?”

“Yup. And so, that’s why it’s the first stop on our date. Now, take a walk with me into the truck.”

Biting my bottom lip, I closed my eyes and imagined what he told me to. “Okay.”

“Watch your step. You can probably smell all of the leftover aromas from the day, which all rolled together smell basically like fried onions. Are you hungry, Rana?”

“I’m starving.”

“Well, let’s feed you, then. I’ve made you a special sandwich. Open up number three.”

“Are you kidding? You sent food?”

“Don’t worry, it’s packed with frozen gel packs and made with a ciabatta bread that doesn’t get soggy. So, it should be fresh.”

“Gah!” I rushed to open the third item.

Removing the packaging around the sandwich, I could smell fresh basil. I took it out of the foil and sank my teeth in. “Mmm. What is this?”

“It’s a special recipe just for you. I named this one Tomato-Tomahto Saloomi-Salami.”

I burst out in laughter. “Perfect.” Taking another bite, I said, “What did you put in it? It’s delicious.”

“It’s tomato, salami, fresh basil, mozzarella on ciabatta with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of chili pepper-infused olive oil.”

My mouth was full as I spoke. “Holy crap. This is so good, Landon.”

“You must be thirsty.”

I laughed. “If I say yes, will I be opening up another item?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I am.”

“Go ahead, then.”

I immediately recognized the shape of number four before I even opened it. “You sent me a mini bottle of wine.”

“I didn’t trust you not to finish a big bottle yourself,” he joked. “You would’ve been swearing at me again by the end of this.”

“You might be right.” I twisted the top off and took a sip of the pinot grigio. “Delicious.”

He seemed to be chewing.

“Are you eating, too?” I asked.

“Of course. What kind of a date would it be if I weren’t? I’m eating the same exact sandwich as you. Drinking the same wine, too. Because if we were together, we’d be sharing a large bottle.”

I loved that he was taking this so seriously.

Continuing to play along, I asked, “Where would we be eating these sandwiches?”

“Right now, we’re in Venice parked off of Abbott Kinney Boulevard sitting on a bench outside of the truck. Sorry, I missed that step. Should’ve pointed that out.”

“You’re doing great. This is so nice. Thank you.”

Santeria by Sublime started to play as he said, “I just hooked my iPod up to the speaker so we can listen to some music while we eat.”

That song was perfect for the vibe I was imagining in my head.

It was amazing how much it felt like I was actually there with him. I guess a good imagination can transport you anywhere you want to be.

We ate in silence for a while, listening to his music, some of which was obscure. He played songs like Satellite and One Man Wrecking Machine by a band called Guster. When Otherside by the Red Hot Chili Peppers came on, two thoughts came to mind. One, I loved his taste in music. Two, many of his song choices had to do with addiction, and I wondered if that had something to do with his birth mother. I wanted to ask him but was afraid to ruin the moment, so opted not to.

At one point, a country song came on.

“What’s this?” I asked. “You don’t strike me as a country kind of guy.”

“Normally, I’m not, but I heard this the other day, and it reminded me of you.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll see.”

I listened to the words for a while and figured it out. “Oh, very funny.”

“It’s called This Ain’t No Drunk Dial by A Thousand Horses.”

“Nice.” I giggled.

At least an hour passed while we chatted and listened to his tunes.