The Gift

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The Gift Page 5

by Perri Forrest


  “You look nice,” we both said, complimenting each other’s ensembles at the same time.

  I found myself blushing. “Thank you. Couldn’t think of what to wear at first. Settled on this.”

  “Good choice,” he said. “Very good choice. And your hair . . . it’s very nice also.”

  “Thank you,” I said, subconsciously smoothing down hair that didn’t need smoothing.

  “So are we ready? Or are you going to stand there all night?” he asked me, with a light chuckle. “It’s like you don’t want to step over the threshold. I swear you’re safe,” he kidded.

  “Oh,” I said, chuckling nervously, recognizing that I hadn’t moved.

  I dimmed the lamps using the switch right at the door, then grabbed my key ring and purse from the small stand. I bolted my locks and fell in line behind Silas, holding the railing all the way down. I couldn’t wait to get to wherever we were going so that I could pacify my system with an adult beverage, or few. I needed to relax—urgently. I was a nervous wreck.

  Adding to the discomfort was the fact that when we got down the stairs, a driver awaited. My steps slowed. I looked around to see if maybe somebody was coming out of their unit, and perhaps the car was for them. However, when we made it to the town car, a man wearing chauffer gear, opened the door for me to get into the back seat.

  “This is us?” I asked Silas.

  “It’s us.”

  I got inside and soft music streamed through, welcoming me, wrapping me in comfort. Silas slid in right after me. Sitting in such an intimate setting with him was beginning to stir up things in me. I didn’t know if it was sexual attraction or if it was me being grateful to my savior. But it was something.

  “You comfortable?” he asked me, softly rubbing my thigh.

  “I’m getting there,” I responded in earnest, feeling a strong urge to kiss him.

  In the back with us sat a silver-colored, ice-filled compartment with two bottles of champagne inside. Silas retrieved a flute from another holder that sat to the side of that compartment, and poured. He handed me the sparkling bubbly.

  “Drink this. Try to get there a little quicker. Take the edge off.”

  “Is it that obvious?” I asked him, bringing the flute up to my lips.

  “It is.” He released a chuckle before settling back into his seat. “But why are you nervous?”

  I gulped down the glass and then held it out to signal for more. I wasn’t planning to drink too much, but I knew enough to know that I needed a little bit more to keep me from freaking out. The last thing I wanted was for Silas to think that he was in the company of a crazy person.

  “The only thing that I can tell you is this. I feel like I’m in some kind of dream. One that’s too good to be true. I don’t think you know the impact that you’ve had. It makes me jittery about being in your presence because . . . I don’t know. You basically came along and brought me back to life. And even when I want to thank you, you’re still doing for me.”

  My voice trailed because I felt myself babbling. I didn’t want to end up on another crying spree. I honestly just wanted to enjoy the evening that he had planned, and be in that moment without reflecting on the moment that was already passed. But I was failing miserably.

  When I felt his hand on mine, I neither flinched nor tensed up. That would’ve been my default reaction. However, for some reason, right then, it wasn’t.

  “You’ve added value to my life as well,” he said, shocking the hell out of me! “I enjoy your company. I think you’re a beautiful woman. I think you’re funny. I think anything that I’ve done to help, you deserved it.”

  I felt flushed from the inside out. He said and did things with such nonchalance, but that you knew weren’t just empty words.

  “Beautiful? Funny?”

  “Both of those . . . and then some.”

  I smiled. More like had a big cheese on my face.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Silence sat around us for a while on the drive, until I began humming to Kenny G’s, “Songbird,” instrumental playing around us.

  “You like Kenny G?”

  “I like all music. It just has to speak to me in some way.”

  “I didn’t notice any kind of stereo system in your place.”

  “I listen to music through a wireless speaker and my iPod. It’s very clear and crisp.”

  Silas started to laugh and shook his head. Then he turned to me and said, “Kayla, go back and get some music. iPods and wireless speakers are cool for the bathroom. Go get some music that you don’t have to carry around from room to room.”

  “Why did you say that?!” I pushed against his shoulder and laughed out loud. “And you say that I’m funny. That is so wrong!”

  “No, what’s wrong is that I have to keep urging you to get the stuff you need. Do I need to go and get it for you?” he asked.

  “I can do it,” I dragged.

  “Okay, so then. So . . .” he said, releasing his hand from mine and pouring himself a glass of the champagne. “Let’s toast to your new beginnings.”

  “Yes, let’s do that,” I concurred tapping my glass against his.

  -10-

  Silas

  Being around Kayla was refreshing. She was beautiful, but not the least bit full of herself. Hell, it didn’t even seem like she took herself seriously at all. Not once had she taken out a mirror. Not once did she sneak a look at herself on the elevator up to Top of the World. Once she fully relaxed, I got to see a mellower side to her. I also got to find out that she was a great conversationalist. It was a nice change from what I was used to. I was used to the women who brought a representative out with me. Talked a good game, and said all the things they thought I wanted to hear. That wasn’t her. She was raw and uncut.

  “Oh. My. God . . .” Kayla sighed when we made it to our table and the views of Las Vegas sat like its own universe all around us. “And it’s rotating, right? Damn,” she sighed. “I’ve seen this in the distance on the freeway a lot of times. But never in a million years did I think I would end up inside of here. Especially, since my scary butt is afraid of heights.”

  “Is it uncomfortable for you?”

  “No, not at all. I’m too mesmerized to be uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this beautiful in all my life. And then look at this ambiance. Everybody looks so happy and relaxed,” she observed. “That’s exactly how life should be.”

  “So, do you already know what you want to eat?” I asked Kayla, while she was at one with the Las Vegas views.

  “Yeah, right!” she chuckled. “Let me take a look,” she said picking up her menu. “What are you getting? Judging by how casually the hostesses greeted you, this is a regular spot for you.” She looked up from her menu. “So, what say you? How should I choose?”

  “You should choose based on whatever you have a taste for. Don’t be scared to live a little.”

  “Whatever I have a taste for, huh? That’s not suggestive at all.”

  “Suggestive?” I remarked, before releasing a light cough. “I’m too straight forward for ‘suggestive’, and I don’t do subliminals. Deliberate and straight forward is who I am.”

  She looked into my eyes, then commented, “Okay, then . . .” she coughed out. “I stand corrected. Let me jump back in my lane and see what’s good.”

  When she looked back up at me, we fell into joined laughter. I enjoyed seeing how bright her eyes became when she laughed. Watching Kayla made me wonder if she knew just how beautiful she was. Somehow, I didn’t think she knew.

  When the host approached minutes later, we were both ready to order.

  “I’ll have the pan-seared Alaskan halibut, and a top chopped salad,” Kayla said.

  “And you, Mr. Daniels?”

  “I’m doing the grass-fed ribeye, with the red wine reduction, and the sweet potato fries.”

  “Sounds good,” the host acknowledged reaching for our menus. “Would
either of you like more to drink?”

  “Yes . . .” Kayla spoke. “I’ll do a spiced sunrise, and my gentleman friend here will have a smooth criminal. And of course, more water for the both of us.”

  “Okay, then,” the host said, with a light chuckle. “All coming right up.”

  I smiled across the table at Kayla after our host left.

  “This drink better be good, woman,” I teased.

  “You’ll love it. Gotta get you out of that champagne and wine for just a bit, Mr. Sophisticated.”

  “What’s wrong with champagne and wine?” I asked.

  “Nothing. But you’re out for the night, with these beautiful views and a driver. You don’t have to play it safe.”

  “How do you get that I’m playing it safe? I have to hear this.”

  “It’s who I think you are.”

  “Oh, okay, Dr. Kayla, why do you think that?”

  “You’re just so put together. I get the impression that you have to be all the time. That you feel you have to maintain control of not just your environment, but yourself as well. What’s crazy is that I don’t even see you being out of control to the point that you ever have to monitor the behavior. You know what I mean?”

  “Yep,” I responded just to keep her talking. I didn’t want her to pull back. She was free and I wanted her to remain in that space.

  “I mean, you’re fine as wine. Is wine even fine, though? Why is that a saying? Anyway. You got that nice butterscotch-skinned thing going on.”

  It was clear to see that the alcohol had kicked in. Kayla was feeling a little more uninhibited with the things that she said. She didn’t even know that she was jumbling her thoughts. It was hilarious. But I was enjoying it, though.

  “Nice butterscotch-skinned thing?” I laughed.

  “Yes, that light on the chocolate, extra cream and caramel. You’re an amazing soul. I mean, your kindness is unmatched. You’re riding around with a driver, and bringing strange girls to fancy restaurants that sit at the top of the world. Your style of dress is on point times eighteen. Your cologne smells like it was flown in by the fragrance gods. You just seem all the way perfect and all the way in control of who you are. And I get the feeling that who you are, is somebody very important. Should I have Googled you?”

  I was loving every minute of this bold Kayla that had emerged. I had told her to take the edge off, and it seemed it worked. She’d probably never repeat any of what she was saying again . . . unless she had the liquid courage with her.

  “No need for Google. Wikipedia is fine.”

  “Oh my God!” she laughed out loud. “You’re funny! I will not be looking you up on Wikipedia.”

  “You don’t need to look me up at all. All you have to do is ask. I might tell you.”

  “Might tell me?”

  “Yep. Go ‘head. Shoot.”

  “Okay, well my first question is where is your woman? And is she okay with you being out with other women? Doing good deeds for other women?”

  “I have your drinks here,” the host said interrupting. “Your food should be out soon as well.”

  “Thank you,” I said, turning my glass around to take in the presentation. “Talk about somebody being in control,” I kidded. “Let’s see what this drink that you forced on me, is tasting like.”

  “Yeah, get a few sips in. I’ll wait patiently. And then you can make that U-turn to answer those questions I just laid out on this table.”

  “Damn, and she’s bossy too!”

  “I’m not,” she giggled. “I’m just nosy and super curious. I just want to know what the situation is before I start trying to take up a man’s time that might already be taken. I mean, good friends are hard to come by. I might not wanna let you go.”

  I pulled the drink from my mouth after taking a few sips. To my surprise it was good. Not at all fruity like I thought it was going to be. And the Hennessy really brought the taste home.

  “Who woulda thought Hennessy and pomegranate could be so good together? You’ve got me on something new. I like it.”

  “I knew you would. See, I think that you were brought into my life to get me out of my own way, and I came into your life to get you to try new things. It’s a win-win. So, now—”

  “Here we are,” the server announced, interrupting our conversation, with the delivery of our meals.

  “Ohhh, this looks really good. Thank you,” Kayla told him.

  “Yeah, looks real good. Thanks,” I followed up.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “We’re good for now,” I said.

  “So now . . .” Kayla continued, picking back up where she left off. “About this woman of yours. Where is she?”

  “She’s non-existent. I’m unattached.”

  “That can’t be true,” Kayla stated, chopping her salad into smaller bites. “I refuse to believe that.”

  “I’ve never spoken a truer fact. Been single for over a year.”

  “A year? No lover or anything?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “See, that’s what I thought!” she exclaimed, chewing on some of her halibut.

  “You asked about attachment, though,” I said, in my defense. “You didn’t ask about occasionally having my needs met. I’m sure you have some sort of arrangement as well, right?”

  “Nope. No occasional booty call, and for sure nothing committed.”

  “You anti-commitment or something?”

  “Oh no. Nothing like that. I just stressed it because I would be something pathetic if I was in any kind of relationship . . . in my predicament. What would that say about my choices in men? I’d be a fool and a half to even admit that there was a man, when not so long ago, I was days away from being on the street.”

  I thought back to Leilani’s statement around the same topic. She’d said almost the same thing. It made me curious about how her and Kayla would take to each other if they met.

  “You got a point there.” I nodded. “You definitely have a point.”

  “So, why have you been single so long? I’m sure it’s by choice, but why that choice? Are you just kinda about the ‘hit it and quit it’, way of life?”

  “Whoaaa!” I laughed. “Who said that I hit it and quit it?”

  “Well, there’s nobody that made the cut enough to stay after the deed, so I’m just sayin’.”

  “Maybe I’m just selective. Maybe I want more than just sex for a woman to make the cut.”

  She looked at me for a few long seconds, then smiled. “Now, that was a great answer.”

  -11-

  Silas

  Dinner was long over, and with the comfort level way up, Kayla had become more hands-on. She touched more when she talked. She smiled a whole lot more. She had even rubbed my shoulder and back softly on a return trip from the ladies’ room.

  She was sexy as hell, but I had already decided that I wasn’t going to turn any of what was happening into a moment. If I decided to take her to bed, it would be under a different set of circumstances and where she was fully sober. If we decided to go there, I wanted her fully alert so that she could know, without a doubt, that it was something she wanted. But I would be lying through my goddamn teeth, if I said that it was getting harder and harder—literally. Both, the attraction and the urge, were very much present.

  “Tell me about your family, Kayla. They here in Vegas?”

  “Family . . .” she said quietly, while nodding slowly. “Well, hmm. Family would be my father, who has a whole life that doesn’t include me. And a wife that I despise. My mother left when I was 4 and never showed her face again. Don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I heard at a point, not sure how true it is, that she started a whole new family. So there’s possible siblings out there somewhere, but I don’t know them, if so. And then my brother . . .” She grew silent, turning her gaze to the view 800 feet down. “My brother, Michael, was all I had left. He uhhh, left twelve years ago. In 2006 I lost him. August of 2006, to be exact. Died
in a tragic accident. Yeah . . .” she sighed. “So, umm, that’s my family make up right there.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, Kayla. So very sorry.” I reached across the table and held her hands in mine. “Sounds like a lot.”

  “Yeah,” she said, quietly, looking down at our intertwined hands. “Worse, that he died on my birthday. I mean, he died doing what he loved . . . riding his bike, his motorcycle. But still. It hurts so much because I don’t have him anymore. He . . . he was on his way to my house to drop off my birthday gift. He had called me hours earlier to say he’d be by. I . . . waited up for him, but since he had a key, I didn’t really . . . and then I got the call at about 3AM.” She looked down at the table and for a few moments, said nothing. When she looked back up, I saw in her eyes just how fresh the wounds still were of losing her brother. “But can we leave that topic now? Please. I know I’ve pried into your entire existence, but this is just—”

  “For sure. Absolutely,” I said preparing to pull my hands away.

  “No, keep these here,” she requested. “They’re soft and make me feel safe, comfortable.”

  “I’m glad.”

  We stayed locked in place for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything but focused on the bright lights of the Las Vegas cityscape. The music playing, and the surrounding chatter, kept us company. Up until someone arrived to clear the table.

  “Can I get you anything for dessert?” our hostess asked, luring us both back to the present.

  Kayla’s eyes widened, and she smiled. “Actually, there was something that I was eyeing.”

  “Then you should absolutely get it,” the hostess said. “I mean, why not?”

  “She’s right,” I cosigned.

  “Okay, in that case, it’s gotta be the Crème Brûlée. I have to have it!”

  “Then it shall be on the way. And for you?”

  “I’m good. No dessert for me.”

  “Wow. So unfair,” Kayla commented. “Just about to let me sit here and eat all by my lonesome.”

  “You’re not alone. There’s a restaurant full of folks who’ll be eating with you.”

 

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