by A. P. Watson
“Yeah,” I cringed, knowing what was coming next.
“You started your night out at one of the nicest restaurants in the city and ended it at a pub with beer and nuts?”
“I know how it sounds.”
Her hands planted on her hips as she frowned at me. “Do you?”
“Well, I haven’t had enough caffeine to handle this much sass.”
“Good thing I’ve got some coffee made!”
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate you.”
She adjusted her grip on her coffee, so both her middle fingers were directed at me. “So, what happened after your heathen ass took Jackson to Miller’s Pub?”
“After that, it’s pretty hazy, but I’m pretty sure all he did was drive me home.”
“You got drunk?”
“He carried me out of the pub.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
I stared at her innocently, slightly shrugging my shoulders. “Maybe.”
“Did you have some everything not to do on a first date checklist that you were furiously completing last night?”
“I was nervous!” I crossed the kitchen, moving to lean on the counter next to her. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before, and I thought alcohol would help!”
“Okay, I can kind of see where you’re coming from with that. So, wait, if he took you home after drinks, did he do you on the car ride home?”
“No, Ter!” I filled my daisy mug with coffee and plenty of cream. “There was no groping, kissing, or sex of any kind. He didn’t even try to sleep with me.”
“No sexual activities of any kind?”
“He barely kissed my cheek when he walked me to the door.”
“That’s fucking strange. That man practically radiates sex, and he is one hell of a pickup artist. I’ve seen him charm the panties off models.”
“Thanks for the pep talk! I feel fucking fantastic now!”
“Don’t panic. There has to be a reason he backed off.”
“Maybe he just found me that repulsive. I’m so disgusting he couldn’t even spend one night with me.”
“I saw you in that dress! There is no way he thinks you’re repulsive.”
Before I could refute her claims, a knock sounded at the door.
I walked over to the door. “Did Ryan lock himself outside or something?” I asked.
“No, he’s still asleep.”
“Then who the hell would be over here at ten in the morning?” I nearly choked on my coffee when I saw Jackson standing in front of me.
He hit me with a cocky smile that I was beginning to think was his standard look. “Hey.”
“Umm, hi?”
“I knew you’d forget.” He slid past me, strolling over to where Terayn and I had just been talking moments earlier. “Good morning, Terayn.”
“Hey, Jackson.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What did I forget exactly?”
“We made plans to go to brunch today. We agreed on it last night after dinner. Don’t you remember? I even sent you a text as a reminder this morning.”
“No,” I said, taking another sip of coffee just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. “There were a lot of Irish car bombs last night.”
“And don’t forget the whiskey,” he added.
“Wait, how did you get my number?”
“I used your phone to call mine when I drove you home last night if you must know.”
“Oh.”
“Now, why don’t I finish this while you get ready?” He pried my coffee cup from my hands and ushered me down the hallway.
“You’re lucky I like you because taking my coffee is an offense punishable by death,” I pouted.
“I swear I’ll buy you whatever kind of coffee you want at breakfast.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine, but I want pancakes and bacon too.”
I trudged to my room and pulled on a blue sundress and some sandals. I didn’t have time to fix my hair, so I twisted it into a long braid before starting my makeup. Once I slid on my favorite bracelet, I was ready to go.
“All done?” he asked.
Jackson was dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue button-up. He was like a living ad for Ralph Lauren. “I feel like a zombie.”
“You look great.”
I glanced at Terayn for confirmation. “He’s right.”
“Alright, Jacks, take me to breakfast.”
“Y’all have fun!” Terayn called out as she waved goodbye to us.
“I’ll see you later,” I replied.
“Bye, Terayn,” Jacks added.
When I saw the black Corvette parked outside the condo, I’d almost forgotten it was Jackson’s.
“I don’t know if I told you last night, but I love your car.”
“You might’ve mentioned it.”
He sped through the streets, taking sharp turns whenever possible to further demonstrate the car’s capabilities. The Corvette handled the drive like a dream. Within minutes, we were seated at an outdoor table of a nearby bistro. Two other couples dined at tables on the far side of the patio. At least privacy wouldn’t be an issue during this breakfast.
I bit the bullet, wanting to get any lingering awkwardness from the previous night out of the way as quick as possible. “I just want to apologize if I said anything inappropriate after we left the bar last night. Everything following the second car bomb is a little hazy.”
He laughed, staring at me incredulously. “Eighty percent of the things that come out of your mouth are inappropriate.”
“That’s an excellent point. But seriously, if I was out of line, I’m really sorry.”
“You were fine.”
“So, is this supposed to be a second date or something?”
“No, I just wanted to hang out with you.”
“As friends?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I know Ryan and Terayn told you that I’m not one for serious relationships, but I really enjoy spending time with you.”
“Sounds good to me.” I nodded, hoping my reply sounded cheery enough to be convincing.
“You’re okay with just being friends?” he questioned.
Jacks was the nicest, most respectful man I’d ever been on a date with. Plus, he was hot as hell. Of course, he didn’t want to date me. I was an idiot for even thinking he would look in my direction. “Didn’t we already establish I’m a mold breaker? Besides, you’re way too fancy for my taste. I couldn’t date a guy who dresses better than I do.” I spoke my reply with way more confidence than I felt. Hopefully, Jacks wouldn’t be able to see through my front.
“What are you talking about? You dress just as nicely as I do.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. Your shirt, who makes it?”
“Seamstresses,” he replied nonchalantly.
“No, you know who makes it. I’m a fashion fiend, and I knew within five seconds of seeing you it’s Gucci. Your shirt is from Gucci, isn’t it?”
“So, what if it is? It’s just clothing.”
“And your belt set you back at least two hundred bucks.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re fancy. It’s just how you are,” I answered.
“I couldn’t care less about clothes to be perfectly honest. My wardrobe is just residual behavior from a previous relationship, that’s all.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes at him. I wasn’t buying that explanation for a second. “You probably vacation in Aspen and Milan and take business trips to Tokyo.”
“Actually, I vacation in Montreal,” he stated.
“Whatever. All I’m trying to say is we don’t match.”
“You’re insane. You look great.”
“Come on, Jacks. You go to work every day in Armani suits. I wear scrubs I’m fairly certain have trace amounts of other people’s urine soaked into the fibers.”
“You’re something else.” He laughed loudly, his eyes scrutinizing my face
like I was something he’d never seen before.
“Now that I think about it, I feel so misled by my high school career fair. I didn’t know getting to wear designer clothes every day was a career track.”
“I thought you said my job was just a fancy way of being a dick.”
“Oh, it is.” The sound of his phone ringing disrupted our conversation. Jackson answered quickly and excused himself from the table to continue the conversation. He paced along the patio, clearly in a heated argument with someone. I watched as his posture changed, and his shoulders stiffened. I could tell the phone call was an important one, because his stress level seemed to increase by ten notches.
“Sorry about that. It was work,” he said as he sat down, running his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Henry has been assisting me with a merger and acquisition of a local corporation, but he’s slacking.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, my boss assigned him to help me because this client is so important. However, he hasn’t helped me at all.”
“That’s shitty of him. Have you talked to Henry about it?” I asked.
“Not yet. I need to though.”
Jackson’s phone rang again, and before he could grab it off the table, I snagged it out of his reach. “Today is Sunday. You shouldn’t have to work on a Sunday.”
“Wren, give me the phone.”
“No, you’re not working today.”
“Henry is calling me.”
I answered Jackson’s phone. “Henry?”
“Who is this?” he asked.
“My name is Wren.”
“Okay, Wren, can you put Jackson on the phone?”
“Actually, he is busy at the moment, and as a matter of fact, he is going to be busy all day. Get your shit together and do what is expected of you for this client. Jackson can’t be your babysitter today.”
“What?”
“Bye.”
“Are you insane?” Jackson asked, clearly annoyed.
“Probably.”
Jackson glared at me in exasperation. “Give me the phone!”
“No!” I shot him a glare of my own. “You’re beyond the point of being stressed out. Not to mention, I can tell you’re exhausted. You asked me to have brunch today, and we will enjoy our meal. You can work tomorrow. Today, you rest.”
“Wren . . . ” His voice was laced with a warning, but I wasn’t intimidated. I was used to working with surgeons who acted as if they were the sole creator of mankind. Whatever he dished out, I could take.
“Sit your ass down and finish your breakfast or I’m walking out of here, and I’ll never speak to you again. My time and how I spend it is just as important as yours. You wanted to spend time with me today, and you’re getting exactly what you wanted. So, why don’t you do me a favor, and treat me with the same amount of respect you expect from people?”
“You’re right.” Jackson resumed his seat, immediately picking up his fork. “I’m sorry.”
“Better get used to it, honey.”
“You keep surprising me.”
“I feel like you mean that to be a compliment, but it sounds more like an accusation.”
“I meant it as a compliment.” He combed a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m usually better at this.”
“Talking to women?” I nudged his leg with my foot, garnering his attention. “With your track record, I’d certainly hope so.”
Unable to retain any semblance of his serious countenance, he smiled. “You’re exactly what Terayn described.”
“Glad I live up to your expectations.” I munched on a piece of bacon as I waited for him to fill the conversational void.
“So, do you only love rebuilt Corvettes, or do you have a soft spot for all classic cars?” he questioned.
“The ‘62 Corvette is a dream car, but I love all the old body styles. Especially the ‘67 Mustang. Now, that is a beautiful automobile.”
“Yes, it is.” He took another bite of food and refilled my coffee mug. Jackson insisted the waitress leave the entire pot on our table. He promised me coffee, and I was happy to see he was a man of his word. “Do you drive a classic car? For some reason, I keep picturing you driving a ‘68 Camaro.”
“I wish I had a ‘68 Camaro . . . or just a car in general.” My heart skipped a beat the moment the words rolled off my tongue.
“You don’t have a car?”
“Nope.” I stuffed my mouth with pancakes in the hope he would move on to the next topic.
“Why not?” he inquired curiously.
I gulped loudly as I swallowed my food. “I sold it to pay off the rest of my student loans, so I could move up here.” When I built up enough courage to look at him, his eyes raked over my face. “I had an ex who didn’t work for almost a whole year while we were dating, and I took it upon myself to pay all the bills and buy the groceries. Long story short, he was a deadbeat piece of shit, and by the time I realized I was way too good for him, he’d already taken out several credit cards in my name. He maxed out four credit cards before I discovered what he was doing.”
“That fucking bastard.”
“Yup. I worked two jobs for almost two years, so that I could pay off his debt.”
“What about your parents? You didn’t ask them for help or anything?”
“They offered to help me, but it was my mess, and I had to fix it. Besides, I hate the thought of being indebted to someone. I’d rather make my own way.”
“That’s an extremely admirable quality.”
“My mother calls it stubbornness.”
“I’m the same way. Accepting help from someone else feels like a handout.”
“Look at us. We’re just two peas in a pod.” I took another bite of pancakes. “What is your family like?”
“I don’t have much of a family.” He sighed heavily, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “My parents died when I was twenty. They were hit by a drunk driver. My grandfather is the only family I have.”
“I’m so sorry.” I took his hand in mine. “You don’t have any siblings or cousins you’re close to?”
“I have an aunt on my mother’s side, but she lives in Canada. I’ve only met her once, and that was at my parents’ funeral.”
The emptiness and despair that saturated his voice struck a chord within me. Before I even realized what, I was doing, I pushed out of my chair and moved to stand in front of him. “Get up.” When he stood, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He folded into me as if we were carved from the same block. “You sounded like you were in need of a hug.”
“I think I’ve needed one for the past year,” he whispered, his hands trailing down the length of my back.
I inhaled, breathing in his cologne. “Me too.”
We held onto one another for another minute before separating. “What are we doing after breakfast?”
“You’re letting me decide what we do?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“It’s a bold move,” I teased.
He laughed, taking another bite of his omelet. “I have a lawyer on retainer.”
“That’s probably a wise decision.”
We each downed another mug of coffee, and Jackson paid our bill, despite my protests. While I appreciated his old-fashioned sensibility, I also enjoyed paying for my own food. I didn’t want him thinking of me as a charity case. For our next activity, I decided on Jackson Park. Not surprisingly, Jacks approved of my choice. He certainly was an arrogant ass.
Jacks decided it would be best to leave the Corvette near the bistro and take a taxi over to the park. Somehow, I managed to sneak a twenty-dollar bill to our driver and jump out of the cab before he realized what I did. When Jacks joined me, he was less than amused.
“You’re the only woman I’ve been around who insists on paying for everything.”
“In my experience, most men don’t complain about something like that. Besides, I don’t nee
d anyone’s money. I do just fine on my own.”
“I can see that.”
“If me paying for my own food makes you feel emasculated, then that sounds like a personal problem to me.”
“You’re misunderstanding me.” His hand pressed against the small of my back once more as we made our way across a large wooden bridge in the direction of Wooded Island. “Wren, I invited you to brunch today because I wanted to hang out. It’s not a matter of feeling emasculated. I simply wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Oh,” Open mouth, insert foot. I’d become so accustomed to dating assholes, I didn’t even remember how to accept kindness. “I’m sorry. Ryan is like a brother to me. When he pays for something, I don’t think twice about it. I guess I’m not used to such a gesture from any other guy unless it’s my cousin Sean.”
“I see.”
“Yep. I sure know how to pick ‘em.”
“Well, I have no ulterior motives. If I do something nice for you, it’s because I sincerely want to.”
“Thank you.” We continued walking in silence for a while, content to admire the beautiful greenery surrounding us at every turn. “It’s really beautiful out here.”
“Yeah, I love it,” he said. I stepped onto the path connected to the end of the bridge. “The Garden of the Phoenix is my favorite part of the whole park. It’s over this way.” He grabbed my hand, leading us to a worn path. I followed behind him, too enraptured to speak.
Large stones dotted the landscape in front of us, perfectly scattered amongst grass and bushes. An arched bridge served as a connector to another section of the park. Its wooden beams created a mirror image on the surface of the pond. The water was as smooth as glass, tranquility practically radiating from every inch of scenery.
“Wow.”
“I know, right?” he asked.
“This is breathtaking.” Yet again, I longed to possess Terayn’s artistic mind. She could’ve described the scene in front of me with a flair I could only dream of replicating.
“I come here to think.”
“I can see why.” We found an unoccupied bench nearby and sat down, facing the water. “Though, you don’t really strike me as the type of person who needs to contemplate matters. You’re too sure of yourself, and you have a job you seem to not only do well at but enjoy too,” I stated.
“That’s an astute observation.”