by A. P. Watson
Jackson stood on my front porch. He tugged on the loose red tie, sliding the material from around his neck. “Wow.” His fingers deftly unfastened the first button on his shirt.
“Is this too tight? I can go change real quick.”
“No, you look great. I mean, you may give him a heart attack, but you still look great.”
“Who?”
“My grandfather. I called him on my lunch break and promised to stop by and see him tonight.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love that!”
“You don’t mind?”
I locked the door to my apartment and followed Jacks down the stone steps. “Not at all. I’d love to meet him!”
“I made us dinner reservations for eight o’clock at Monteverde. It’s an Italian restaurant.”
“That’s perfect,” I assured him. Jacks opened the passenger side door of his car and waited while I settled into the seat before closing it. “Does your grandfather know I’m coming too?”
“Yeah. He’s excited to meet you.”
“Okay, good. I don’t want to intrude on your visit with him or anything.”
It took us thirty minutes to reach the Shirley Ryan Ability Lab. The building was sleek, its exterior comprised of an endless array of glass windows. Inside, the facility was state of the art and knowing Jackson, I expected nothing less. He would only allow his grandfather to be placed in the best rehabilitation center.
“This place is really nice.”
“Yeah, it’s one of the best. My grandfather has made a lot of progress here.”
We took an elevator up to the seventh floor and walked past a nurse’s station to a hallway of patient rooms. Jackson paused in front of room 702 and knocked.
“Come on in.”
I followed Jackson as he crossed the threshold into the room. The inside was just as nice as the rest of the building. Honestly, it was nicer than most of the hotels I’ve stayed in. Pale gray paint covered the sheetrock, and the far wall was one giant window.
“Hey, Grandpa.”
An elderly man sat in an armchair next to the window. His hair was solid white, and he had a perfectly groomed goatee to match. Despite being in a physical rehab facility, he wore a pair of charcoal slacks and a navy cardigan. “Jackson!” He laid the book he was reading on a glass coffee table and stood, his arms stretched wide.
Jackson rushed forward, wrapping his arms around his grandfather. “You look good.”
“I feel good.” Jackson’s grandfather cracked a smile. It was the same precarious grin I’d seen Jacks sport on more than one occasion. “And this is Wren?”
“Yes, this is my friend, Wren Williams.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Carmichael.” Instead of shaking his hand, I mirrored Jackson’s greeting and pulled him into a tight hug. “Sorry, I come from a family of huggers.”
“No need to apologize for that, but please call me David. Being called Mr. Carmichael makes me feel old.”
I nodded at him. “Okay, David it is.”
“Jackson, she’s as beautiful as you described.”
I spun toward Jacks, my brows practically merging with my hairline. “Is that so?” I asked.
“I told him you were very pretty.” Hell must have frozen over, because for a fleeting moment, Jackson’s cheeks flushed. “What?”
“Uh-huh,” I answered sarcastically.
David directed my attention back to him. “Now, from what I understand, the two of you are friends?”
“Oh, yeah . . . I mean Jacks keeps trying to get me to be in a relationship with him, but I’m not ready to be tied down yet.”
Jackson’s grandfather didn’t even try to conceal his amusement. Instead, he burst into a fit of laughter. “I like her.”
Jacks groaned in reply. “I knew this was going to happen. We haven’t even been here five minutes, and the two of you are already thick as thieves.”
“Don’t listen to him, he whines all the damn time.” David cracked another grin. This time, it was my turn to be amused. “Wren, would you care to take a stroll with me?” He grabbed a cane that was perched on the chair and held his arm out to me.
“I can’t think of anything I’d like more,” I replied with a smile. David and I exited the room, heading toward the hallway with Jackson hot on our tail. Clearly, he didn’t believe his grandfather, and I should be left to our own devices. “So, what was Jackson like as a child?”
I strengthened my grasp on David’s arm, and we continued our stroll. His other hand tightened around the handle of his cane, but his gait never faltered. “Jackson was a great kid—smart, adventurous—but he was always getting into some kind of trouble.”
“Really?”
“When he was seventeen, Jackson and his girlfriend at the time almost got expelled from school because they were found parking in the student lot after hours.”
“Parking?”
David cracked a smile at my question. “Well, in my day, we called it parking.”
I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing, my gaze immediately darting to Jacks once more. “Really, parking?” I asked.
“We were having sex. Is everyone happy now?” Jacks asked in an irritated tone.
Despite my best efforts, a giggle escaped. “I’m not at all surprised by this revelation.”
“Jackson has always been a ladies’ man,” David added with a grin. When we reached the end of the hallway, David turned us around, leading us back to room 702. “But in all seriousness, he is the hardest worker I’ve ever known.”
I nodded my head in agreement. “I know that to be true as well.”
“Did you know he worked as a mechanic to help pay for his college tuition?”
“You worked as a mechanic?” I tried and failed miserably to conceal my surprise at David’s confession.
“Yeah, at a body shop across town.”
“You worked on cars?”
“Yes.” Jackson’s intense gaze pierced right through me. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
In my head, I had this notion Jacks was a person who had never been without money. His air and attire were the product of refinement. I figured he’d been born into it, but this latest revelation indicated there were more intricate layers to Jackson than I ever would’ve imagined. “It’s just surprising, that’s all.”
“Right,” Jacks said sarcastically.
I nudged Jacks’s arm with my elbow. “It explains why you like cars so much.”
The three of us finished the remainder of our visit in David’s room. He had a flair for telling wild stories, and the longer we stayed, the more relaxed Jacks became. Work had been stressing him out lately, but this was exactly the kind of distraction he needed. Time with his only remaining family seemed to set Jackson’s soul at ease. I never would’ve expected the sexy, charismatic man I’d met at Audege to have such a kind heart.
Less than an hour later, I hugged David goodbye and promised to stop by for another visit. When it’s was Jackson’s turn, he held onto his grandfather for a long time. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to only have one remaining family member. I had too many to count. But watching Jackson and David together reminded me how precious my loved ones truly are.
We’d been in the car for a few minutes when I decided to break the silence. “Thanks for taking me to meet your grandfather.”
“I knew the two of you would get along.”
“He’s great, and I loved hearing more about you.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you did.”
“I’ve had a job that’s a hell of a lot more surprising than yours, believe me.” The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop myself. Usually, I had a better handle on my mouth, but that didn’t seem to be the case when I was around Jackson. Damn word vomit.
“Really?” Surprise filtered into every facet of his voice.
I cringed slightly, knowing my confession had piqued his interest. “Yes.”
“What kind of job?”<
br />
“Secrets, Jacks. Remember?”
“One of these days, I’m going to get you to tell me.” The smug grin he wore informed me that I wouldn’t have a say in the matter. Truth be told, I longed to share my secret with someone, especially someone who wouldn’t judge me because of it. But that was the catch. How would I know who to share my secret with?
“I have no doubts about that.”
I glanced out the window, suddenly fascinated with the multitude of buildings whirring by. I knew Jacks wouldn’t press the subject any further, but part of me wanted to tell him about my past, about the secret I kept from everyone. The only souls who knew I used to be a stripper were the girls I shared a stage with every night. No judgments passed their lips. They were there to earn money, and so was I.
The feel of a hand against my skin thrust me from my thoughts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine, I was lost in thought,” I whispered.
“You looked like you were somewhere else.” He squeezed my hand, the warmth of his flesh spreading to my own.
For a fleeting moment, I was somewhere else. I wasn’t in Jackson’s car anymore. Instead, I was in that smoky club, fastening the straps of my seven-inch heels and preparing myself to dance until my toes turned numb. The Peel may have been built to satisfy the needs of men, but the strip club also catered to women like me. Women who used their flesh to appeal to the hungry eyes of the male sex. Sure, we had money thrown at us, but we broke our bodies to earn that cash. That was part of the job no one ever considered. You had to hustle and bust your ass for every dime you earned.
“I was.” My reply was nothing more than a whisper, but when his fingers laced with mine, I knew he’d heard me.
I wasn’t sure if holding hands was within the boundaries of our friendship agreement, but it felt right. The flurry of emotions I experienced whenever I recalled my years as a dancer pumped through my entire body. Shame, resolve, fear, and pride whirred together to form a tornado of turmoil. Some people would accept my past, some would look down on it, but most would mock it. They didn’t understand the guts you needed to have to do that kind of work. One of the guys I dated after Liam couldn’t accept my occupation. He was the jealous type. Although, I couldn’t determine if he was jealous of my customers or my resolution to do whatever I had to survive. My guess was he couldn’t stand the thought of being with a woman who was stronger than him.
We managed to park two blocks from Monteverde, arriving just in time for our reservation. The restaurant was located on the ground floor of a tall brick building. Its interior mimicked a large warehouse with wooden tables and counters occupying every inch of dining space. Two long bars lined the center of the room, meeting to form a barrier around shelves laden with wine bottles and drying noodles. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchen, and my mouth practically salivated in response.
The hostess led us to a table on the far side of the restaurant. Jackson helped me sit before rounding the table. He removed his jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair, and seated himself. We barely had time to open our menus when a waiter appeared to take our drink orders. Jackson ordered a bottle of wine and some water.
“Everything here is excellent.” Jacks glanced at me over his menu.
“Is there a dish you personally recommend?”
“I’m partial to the cannelloni, but the penne alla pomodoro is fantastic as well.”
“Those were the two I was trying to decide between.”
“Sounds like I made your decision harder.”
“Yes!” I bit my lip, reading the description of both dishes for what felt like the hundredth time. I always hated when you were stuck between two different meals, and when you finally settled on one, you wish you’d have picked the other instead. “Also, I’m starving, and I tend to get a bit dramatic when I’m hungry.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”
“I have low blood sugar. I can’t help it!”
“Do you really?”
I accepted the wine glass he offered. “No, I just say that to make myself feel better.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
I took a long drink of wine, savoring the taste. “I’ve been called much worse, believe me.”
Jackson shook his head, ripping off a chunk of garlic bread. “Here.” He leaned across the table, holding the bread in front of my mouth. “Can’t let you starve, now can I?”
I accepted the bread he offered, my lips barely grazing his fingers. Butter and garlic melted together in perfect harmony as the bread disintegrated on my tongue. I watched as his hand rescinded. The logical part of my brain chided me for momentarily forgetting our friendship agreement. But when he licked his fingers that had just touched my lips, reason flew out the fucking window. “It’s so delicious,” I whispered huskily.
“Yes, it is,” he replied, meeting my gaze. “Are you ready for me to call our waiter back over?”
I thought about my selection for another moment and stood. “I need to run to the ladies’ room, so surprise me.” Truth be told, I needed to get the heck out of here before I pulled a Meg Ryan in the middle of the restaurant.
“You want me to order for you?” he asked uncertainly.
I snatched my clutch and turned. “I trust you.”
Even though it was a Wednesday night, the restaurant was packed from wall to wall. I navigated through the crowd, heading in the direction of the restroom. Thankfully, there wasn’t a wait, so I was able to get in and out quickly. I took the time to touch up my lipstick and tousle my hair. Just because this wasn’t a date didn’t mean I couldn’t look good.
I emerged from the restroom, cutting a path next to the bar. Dodging between bodies, I was halfway back to Jacks when a hand caught my arm.
“I saw you walk by earlier and couldn’t let you pass again without offering to buy you a drink.” I turned to face the man who’d grabbed me, half expecting some drunk to be the culprit. However, I was met by a pair of sober, honey-colored eyes. “What’s your poison?”
“Usually whiskey, but I’m here with someone.” I pointed at the table where Jacks was waiting. “I appreciate your offer though.”
“I see.” The man genuinely seemed disappointed by my response, which I found surprising because he had the words fuck boy written all over him. With his auburn hair, expensive suit, and matching watch, he was clearly in the same league as Jacks. But there was a refreshing honesty to Jackson’s features. His hands were rough, worn by what I now knew to be years of hard labor working on cars. Jackson’s confidence was effortless whereas this man had a carefully constructed façade. “Perhaps another time.”
“Perhaps.” I smiled at him and pulled away, returning to my seat.
“I hope you enjoy what I ordered for you.” Jackson topped off my wine glass as I sat.
“I’m sure I will. I happen to love surprises.” I munched on another piece of bread while Jackson drained his glass of wine. “So, what’s the plan after dinner?”
“Movie at my place?”
“Only if it’s a horror movie.”
“You would request that, but I suppose you did warn me the first time we met. You said your soul was black.”
“I chalk it up to being an occupational hazard.”
“I’m sure you do.” A witty reply was fresh on my tongue when our waiter returned, carrying three plates. He set one dish in front of Jackson, placing the others in front of me. “I knew you couldn’t choose between the two dishes, so I ordered you both.”
“Lord alive, you’re a man after my own heart.”
“Good surprise?” he asked.
“Perfect surprise.” I dug into the cannelloni first, nearly moaning as I took a bite.
“Sounds like you’re enjoying the cannelloni.”
“This is better than my last sexual encounter.”
Jackson’s eyes flickered with mischief. “Is that so?”
I tucked a strand of
hair behind my ear. “Unfortunately.”
“Jackson!” an oddly familiar voice called from behind me. I spun at the sound of Jackson’s name. To my surprise, the fuck boy who asked to buy me a drink approached our table.
Jacks stood to shake the man’s hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“And who is this lovely creature?” the fuck boy asked, his eyes leisurely raking over my body.
“Henry, this is my friend, Wren Williams. Wren, this is Henry Lattimer.”
I shook Henry’s offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes, it is.” Henry reluctantly released my hand. “It’s nice to finally put a face to your voice.”
So, this was the Henry who kept calling while Jacks and I were eating brunch last Sunday. His voice indicated annoyance, but I wasn’t intimidated. I danced on the laps of more fuck boys than I cared to count. I knew exactly how to talk them out of their cash, and I had a feeling Henry would be no different. “I have a bad habit of calling people out on their bullshit.” I shrugged my shoulders and plastered on the sweetest smile I could manage. “I suppose we all have our little flaws.”
“I suppose we do,” Henry agreed.
“Would you like to join us, Henry?” Leave it to Jacks to always be the perfect gentleman.
“I’d love to, but I’m late for another engagement. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” Henry shook hands with Jacks once more before turning to me. “Wren, I look forward to seeing you again very soon.” His hand ran along the bare skin exposed between my skirt and top, lightly squeezing my waist as he kissed my cheek.
“Good night.”
With a final wave, Henry strutted out of the restaurant as if he owned the very building in which it resided.
Jackson’s brow furrowed as he sat back down. “Well, that was interesting.”
“He stopped me when I was coming back from the restroom and asked to buy me a drink. I declined, stating I was already here with someone.”
“You could’ve had a drink with him.”
“First of all, I have more class than that. Second, he looks like the quintessential fuck boy. I’ve had my fair share of dealings with guys like him, and I’ll pass.”
“Most women really seem to like Henry.”