“I can tell you’re nervous about this. Don’t be. This won’t be a blind date because I showed you her picture. The hard part is over. You already know you want to take her to the restaurant and to come here. We’ve been keeping our weekend schedules pretty free so the time and day should be fine. If anything changes though, just call her and let her know. But I’m going to give her the exact time you want her to meet you and the address. All you have to do is show up and be yourself. But even though you’ll have her number, under no circumstances are you to give her your real name. You can be…” I eyed him thoughtfully before I continued, “James Franco.”
“James Franco? Why?” He scratched his full curly hair.
“The eyes, the hair, the smile. Yep. James Franco is your alias,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Jordan chuckled, “I’ve never heard that before.”
“You’re totally giving me a Franco vibe. The curly hair, the bedroom eyes, the smile. She’s going to be all over this,” I said, waving my hand in his general face area.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Jordan laughed.
I got in the car and he shut the door for me. Autumn is going to eat this gentlemanly shit up, I thought with a smile. Rolling down the window, I reassured him, “You two are going to hit it off. The date will be awesome. And what you have planned really captures why Style Magazine named you one of the area’s most eligible bachelors. You’ll be fine. But if you call her, just remember that you are Franco—no real names. And you can tell her what you do but not where you work.”
“I got it. Thanks. And I look forward to seeing the pictures when you’re done with them. Take care.” He tapped on the roof of my car and backed away.
“Bye, Jordan, aka Franco.” I waved and then pulled away from the curb. Checking the time, I noticed I only had a couple of hours before my date with Mr. J, as Autumn coined him.
Hmmm Mr. J… I hope he’s tall, dark and handsome. Like Mr. Ford, I thought suddenly as I slowed to a stop at a red light. Damn that Autumn! Ever since she brought up Mr. Ford before bed, I keep thinking about him. How blue his eyes were and how his stare held me hostage. How deep his voice was when it rumbled from between those perfect lips. How broad his shoulders were. How his suit fit his body perfectly.
The twenty minute drive home was consumed with thoughts of Mr. Ford. No, stop this, I commanded myself as I got out of the car. I am going on a date with Mr. J. I need to focus on Mr. J.
Before I could open the front door of the row house, Autumn threw the door open. Her tightly coiled hair was twisted and pinned to the side. Her makeup was impeccable. Her warm, chocolate brown eyes were lined and her lips were glossed. She was wearing the outfit I picked out with a pair of four-inch stiletto pumps.
“Auty! You look gorgeous!” I said as I closed the door behind me.
“Are you sure it isn’t too much?” Autumn asked with her arms stretched out beside her.
“It’s not too much at all.”
“It’s sheer!” She gestured to her top.
“Yes,” I said slowly, nodding with my eyebrows raised. “But you can’t see anything.”
“Okay… okay good.” Although she didn’t sound reassured, she visibly relaxed.
“What time is your taxi coming?” I asked, putting my camera bags on the table.
“Should be here in about thirty minutes.” She checked the clock on the wall. “Oh, you need to get ready! Are you taking a taxi or are you going to drive?”
“Taxi,” I called over my shoulder as my long legs took the stairs two at a time. I stripped and hopped in the shower in record time. After showering, I walked into my room to see the nude and black lace dress on my bed and my one and only pair of sexy black stiletto heels that Autumn must have laid out while I was in the shower.
“Thanks, Auty!” I screamed as I wiggled into a matching bra and G-string.
Brushing my hair up into a high ponytail, I wrapped it around into a sleek ballerina bun and secured it with pins.
“Auty?! Autumn?” I yelled, cracking the door. I listened for a second and didn’t hear anything. Hmm, she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. Or without making sure I was putting this dress on, I pondered as I slipped into the dress.
After stepping into my heels, I checked myself out in the mirror. Liking my reflection, I turned around and checked out the back view.
“Ow, ow!” Autumn said from the door, causing me to jump. My heart stopped as my eyes bugged out of my head.
Clutching my chest, I yelped. “Dammit Autumn!” I whipped around to face her. “I called your name and when I didn’t hear you, I thought you’d left already.”
“You must have called when I was outside.” She opened the door all the way and looked at me. “You look amazing! You need to show off those legs more often.”
“Thanks, girl,” I beamed, looking down at my legs. The short dress with the high heels made my legs seem endless.
“Are you still getting ready? The taxi is here so do you want to just ride together?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Let me grab my purse,” I said as I picked up my clutch and haphazardly tossed my wallet, lip gloss, phone, and keys into the small bag.
Hurrying out of the house, we climbed into the backseat of the car. With moderately heavy traffic, it took twenty-five minutes to get to FX. Leaning over to Autumn’s side of the car, I admired the upscale building with soft lighting. The restaurant and lounge had a line of people waiting to get in and each and every one of them looked great.
“That line is long,” Autumn mumbled, using her fingers to tease out her perfectly styled hair.
“Yes, but they must not have reservations. Your reservation is under James,” I replied as she handed me money for her portion of the ride.
After getting out of the car, she stood and straightened her outfit, smoothing out the skirt and adjusting her top. Squatting down a bit, she looked at me through the opened car door with her brown eyes wide. “Is his name James for real? Or are you throwing me off like when you told me my next date is with James Franco?” she asked suspiciously.
I laughed, “This is no different than me going to this gallery looking for a Mr. J at the front door! Fortunately, I’ll be there early so I can scope him out before he can scope me out. But seriously, the reservation is under James. Just James.”
Rolling her eyes, she grumbled good-naturedly, “Fine! Don’t tell me!” She pursed her lips to keep from laughing.
“Fine! I won’t!” I mimicked, causing her to laugh.
“Have fun and be safe. See you at home tonight!” she said, smiling brightly.
“Yes, have fun. Open minds and good times! See you tonight!” I called out before she shut the door.
“Are you ready, ma’am?” the driver asked as I watched Autumn talk to the doorman.
“One second,” I stated, before seeing Brecken James come out of the front door to greet Autumn. Smiling, I watched the huge grin the two of them shared as they shook hands. “Yes, I’m ready. Hillcrest Gallery, please. On 14th and Main.”
As the taxi expertly maneuvered through traffic, I realized I was beginning to get a little nervous. When we were only a few blocks away from the gallery, I had to take a deep breath. I haven’t been on a date in a while, I mused silently. I crossed my legs and watched the city ease into nightlife seamlessly as the sun started to settle behind the buildings. But I’m sure it’s like riding a bike. I’m Summer Skye Wilson, dammit. If anyone should be nervous, it’s him.
I paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Looking at the sign in front of Hillcrest Gallery, I smiled. Emotional: A Photojournalist’s Experience by Camilla Parker, I read with a gleeful nod. This should be fun.
Standing beside the sign, I people watched while waiting for my date, the mysterious Mr. J. A group of women dressed elegantly walked into the gallery. A pair of teenagers walked in wearing sneakers and jeans. A single woman followed shortly after wearing a casual summer dress. Three coupl
es in jeans and nice shirts walked in next. Person after person and group after group filtered into the building in various states of dress. I will definitely have to remember to mention to Autumn that wearing a dress was not mandatory for this event, I thought. Looking down at my heels, I froze. What if Mr. J is short? I am six feet tall in these heels!
“Did you lose something?” a deep voice shook me out of my thoughts.
Jerking my head up, my eyes landed on the crystal clear blue eyes of the sexiest man alive standing a few feet away. My lips parted and I was temporarily rendered speechless in his presence.
Mr. Ford, I thought nervously.
As subtly as possible, I glanced down to take in the way his suit fit like it was made for him. I glanced back up and noticed the way the setting sun made his hair look sun-kissed. Everything seemed to be in high definition and I noticed everything about him. Making eye contact again, I felt a slight fluttering in my belly. What the hell is going on? I wondered.
“What?” I whispered, unable to focus on anything but the way he looked and the way he looked at me. I licked my lips.
A smile played on the corner of his mouth, softening his chiseled features. “You were looking down so I asked you if you lost something.”
“Oh, no. I was just looking at my shoes,” I answered, tapping my foot for emphasis. I felt myself awakening from the shock of his unexpected appearance.
His gaze quickly shifted to my feet and slowly worked its way up my body and back to my face. My skin heated in response to the attention. “Nice,” he acknowledged with a slight nod. And just like that, I felt myself slipping back into that sexually-charged daze I succumbed to in his presence.
I swallowed hard. “You always catch me off guard,” I admitted for no reason at all.
What the hell? Why did I just say that? I need a damn filter, I thought, frustrated at my apparent inability to function like myself around Mr. Ford.
“Is that right?” His eyes challenged me sexily. His entire demeanor completely disarmed me.
“Yes! And I’m a photographer so it’s my job to be aware and to notice things,” I babbled. “Yet for some reason, you always sneak up on me. I just look up and you’re there.” My voice was playfully trying to deflect his sex appeal and replace my lust with friendly chiding. But my rambling was only making me more nervous. What gives?! Stop talking. Stop talking NOW, I commanded myself.
He silently assessed me for a beat before he retorted, “Well, maybe you need to pay better attention.” His eyes gleamed.
“Or maybe you need to wear a bell so I can hear you coming,” I quipped with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.
“You’re not doing your job if you don’t hear me coming,” he countered with his eyebrows raised.
Throwing my head back, I let out a hearty laugh that was neither cute nor flirty. The ridiculousness of the double entendre caused it to explode out of me. As my laughter died down, I looked at him and at best, he looked mildly amused. A new wave of uncontrollable giggles overtook my body.
“You’re funny,” I acknowledged with a smile, wiping the corners of my eyes where tears had formed.
“Your laugh is funny,” he pointed out.
“Are you making fun of me?” I asked with mock indignation.
“No, I liked it. It had…personality.”
My heart thrummed in my chest. “Oh well, thank you,” I said awkwardly, briefly looking past him to the wave of people still streaming into the gallery.
Returning my eyes to him, I watched as he put his hands in his pocket. His movements were smooth and undeniably sexy. Making eye contact, he gave me the same look he gave me in the elevator.
Oh the elevator, I thought as my eyes traced his lips and replayed the moment when he leaned in close. He was so close, his lips were practically on my skin. It would’ve been the perfect opportunity for him to kiss me. But instead he just left me wanting more. Damn him and those gorgeous lips…and eyes…and body.
I had to rip my eyes away from him. I watched the people trickling into the event in order to keep myself from getting too caught up in the feelings he brought out of me. It was a dangerous mix of desire and lust and familiarity. I need to get it together because I am on a date, I thought as I remembered the reason why I was standing outside by the sign.
“You’re full of surprises,” he said thoughtfully, causing me to look at him again. “You didn’t seem like the type to even know who Mos Def was, let alone, know one of my favorite songs by him. And then on my first night out in weeks, here you are.” His tone was matter-of-fact yet soft, as if he were talking to himself.
An indescribable look darkened his blue eyes and I hesitated to respond. What do I say to that? I can’t tell if he’s happy or mad or sketched out by me being here, I thought nervously. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I waited awkwardly for him to continue.
Stop being weird. Shake it off and end this whole conversation before you embarrass yourself, I silently coached myself as I took a deep breath.
Ignoring the desire that churned between my legs, I opened my mouth to tell him that I was on a date. But when he wet his lips and I caught a glimpse of his tongue, that yearning deep within me caused me to have a temporary lapse in speaking ability. “How do you know my name?” I blurted out when my ability to speak returned.
For the first time, he flashed those pearly white teeth into a full-blown smile. Wow, I thought as I smiled back.
“Do you know my name?” he asked, taking another step toward me. We were only about a foot away from one another. Not in each other’s personal space, by any means, but my body reacted as if he had mounted me.
Taking a deep breath, I answered without my voice betraying me. “I just know your last name is Ford. But I believe the question was how do you know my name?” I cocked my head to the side and eyed him suspiciously.
“I’ve worked with the people in the building for a long time.” He smiled again, causing me to have to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent my smile from overtaking my face. “And I always have a way of finding out the information that I want,” he added charmingly.
“Ah…” I nodded. “I get it.” I folded my arms and cocked my head to the side.
His eyebrows came together quizzically. “What?” he questioned with a hint of confusion clouding his beautiful eyes.
“You want me—”
“Xavier!” a loud voice interrupted my statement, making me jump a little.
It was that moment that I realized I stopped talking after ‘you want me.’ To photograph you! You want me to photograph you is what I meant to say! You want me to photograph you. To photograph you, I screamed silently as I looked at the gorgeous woman with dark brown skin and a swimsuit model’s physique running over to us.
Following my line of sight, Mr. Ford turned around and smiled brightly. Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought. He didn’t seem to notice. I think I’m safe, I calmed myself down.
“Xavier,” she repeated with a slight sigh, throwing her arms around him. Xavier, huh? I mused, letting the new knowledge of his name infiltrate my psyche. I like the sound of that. And although I’m not the jealous type, I couldn’t ignore the unsettled feelings that washed over me after hearing her say his name.
“Camilla,” Xavier said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned back around to face me with his arm still resting around her body. “Camilla, I’d like you to meet Summer Wilson. Summer, this is Camilla Parker.”
“Camilla Parker…as in, this is your exhibit Camilla Parker?” I asked, reaching out to shake her outstretched hand.
“Yes, that would be me,” Camilla responded, almost shyly. Her handshake was simultaneously soft and strong. Her smile was warm and inviting. And on top of that, she was strikingly beautiful. “Thank you so much for coming,” she thanked me, sincerity dripping from each word.
So what if she’s a beautiful, talented photographer who appears to be gracious and sweet. What does she hav
e that I don’t? Well, besides an exhibit in a fancy gallery… Oh my God, is this jealousy? Am I jealous? I silently wondered, maintaining eye contact with her. I knew if I looked at him, he’d see something in me that would give this unfamiliar emotion away. So I smiled brightly and replied, “You’re welcome. I can’t wait to see the exhibit.”
“I have to meet with the owner of Hillcrest before the start of this,” Camilla said, turning her attention back to the Greek god who finally has a first name. “Xavier, are you ready?”
So it is a date, I thought despondently. I realized I was staring at their profiles almost sullenly and I felt very petty. No, absolutely not. I will not sit here and pout because Xavier Ford is on a date with Camilla Parker. I am a gorgeous, talented photographer who is also on a date—well, I will be on a date if he ever gets here. And I don’t move in on other people’s men. She seems like a lovely woman and there are too many fish in the sea for me to be hung up on this random man that I don’t even know.
Xavier looked at me with those clear blue eyes and before he could say anything, I interjected. “You two have a good time.” Tearing my eyes away from him, I looked at Camilla. “Congratulations again on the exhibit. It was so nice meeting you, Camilla.”
“Thank you so much,” she replied and turned to head into the building. Casting a look over her shoulder at Xavier, she grabbed his hand. “I need to go in now,” she announced more insistently. An older couple called out to Camilla and waved her to come in.
“Yes, you do,” Xavier responded, glancing at the couple briefly. “You can’t be late. You’re the reason everyone is gathered here tonight.”
She nodded, giving us both a tight smile before heading toward the door of the Hillcrest Gallery.
“I should head in as well. It has been a pleasure, Summer,” Xavier said with a smile that made my heart race.
He is not available. And I’m on a date, I reminded myself as my body flushed in response to his smile.
“It has, Xavier,” I agreed, emphasizing his name. I cocked my head to the side and relished in the knowledge that I learned his name before he could tell it to me.
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