That night started a slow progression toward a relationship. True to his word, I woke up the next morning to a voicemail from Brett asking me to call him. As I cleared the sleep from my eyes, my smile widened at the thought of seeing him. I glanced at the clock, realized it was almost eleven, and pressed send to return his call.That first night set the tone for all of our dates. They weren't always so formal, thank God, or I would've had to replace my entire wardrobe and hire a hairstylist, but they were always filled with intellectually stimulating conversation and mutual respect. Books, current events, the opera, theater, foreign films, Brett never ceased to amaze me with his knowledge or love for the arts. I was fascinated by the things Brett had an interest in-things we shared in common. I was an avid reader, voracious by any account, and he rivaled my knowledge of literature; he'd seen just as many musicals and plays as I had and rattled off a list of his favorite soloists he'd
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