Autumn and Summer

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Autumn and Summer Page 11

by Danielle Allen


  “Jeans. He told me to wear jeans, so I’m wearing jeans,” she said with a shrug.

  “Did he tell you where you two were going tonight?” I asked as I chose accessories for my outfit. I avoided eye contact because I didn’t want to let her know that I knew anything.

  “We’re meeting at that cool bowling alley downtown. I forgot the name of it.”

  “King Pin?” I asked, glancing at her briefly. I hope he didn’t tell her that he owns it, I thought immediately, trying to read her expression.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” she answered distractedly. She was busy biting her thumb nail and staring blankly ahead.

  “What’s wrong?” I moved so that I was in her line of sight.

  Snapping out of it, Summer removed her thumb from her mouth and smiled. “Nothing. Tonight will be fun.”

  “Summer Skye Wilson, are you nervous?”

  “Yeah, that must be it.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

  I pushed her shoulder and then sat down on my bed. “Then what’s wrong? Are you over your own game already? Because we still have three weeks left.”

  “No, it’s not that.” She looked at the clock and then continued, “I’ll make it quick because we both have to start getting ready. I had a photo shoot with this outrageously delusional asshole who thought he could sleep with me after the shoot—”

  “Oh my God!” I cried in surprise.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh I called him on his shit quickly. But he isn’t what got to me. His friend happened to be…the guy from the elevator—”

  “Hot Mr. Ford who may or may not be sixty?” I interrupted in hopes to put a smile on her face. It didn’t work.

  “His name is Xavier and yes, Mr. Xavier Ford who is definitely not sixty.”

  “Oh wow.”

  “Exactly. And I wasn’t expecting to see him so it threw me off. But then he got to me with his conceited, self-involved notion that I was a stalker! He was seriously acting like I just showed up unannounced to his place. He pretty much accused me of setting the whole thing up.”

  “What? Was he kidding?” I scrunched my face up in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would he think that?”

  “His friend didn’t clear the location for the shoot with him. And we had lunch an hour before at the same place and…” Summer trailed off, looking guilty.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Spill it.” I leaned forward, intrigued. I could feel my eyes lighting up.

  “Okay so when I went out with Johnathan and I saw him, we kinda had this moment. And I don’t know… something happened. But then his date showed up and I ended up getting weirdly cut off and it may have sounded like I said ‘you want me.’ But I was trying to say, you want me to photograph you.”

  The room was completely silent for a minute while we just stared at each other with wide eyes. Finally, Summer cracked first with a little laugh. That was all the reassurance I needed to burst out laughing.

  “Okay, you don’t have to laugh that hard,” Summer shouted between gasps of air.

  “You’re right,” I giggled. After the laughter subsided, I continued, “Are you okay? We can figure something out to make this situation less…I don’t even know how to describe this. Problematic?”

  “Problematic is exactly what it is! I don’t want him even thinking I would plan to run into him! I don’t want him thinking I’m thinking about him. I just—ugh!” She threw her hands up in frustration.

  “Hmmm… this is interesting,” I remarked, eyeing her carefully.

  “What?”

  “Remember that guy from a few years ago who lied and told everyone on set that you did a striptease for him in his trailer? You didn’t even bat an eyelash. And Josh was a conceited ass the entire time you two were together and you ignored it and him most of the time. But Mr. Ford accuses you of following him and it got under your skin.”

  “So?” she snapped defensively, almost daring me to say it.

  “So, I think he got under your skin because you’re kinda into him.”

  “We are both going to be late for our dates if we don’t get dressed,” Summer said with a sigh. She made a point to roll her eyes before leaving out of my bedroom. Ten seconds later, her bedroom door slammed.

  Oh wow…she likes him, I mused as I changed into my date attire. Men don’t usually get under her skin—ever. The only things she gets worked up about are things she cares about… family, friends and photography. Interesting…

  Spinning in the mirror, I smiled at how the dress complimented my skin and showed off my curves. I applied my makeup and pinned my hair to perfection. Grabbing a few items and stuffing them into my large handbag, I exited my room and headed straight to Summer’s door.

  “Summer, I’m going to meet Franco. Hope you have a good date with Roosevelt,” I called out through her door.

  The door flew open and she stood there in jeans and a black off-the-shoulder top. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Auty.”

  “Apology accepted,” I smiled at her. “And you look nice.”

  “So do you.” Grabbing her purse, she followed me down the steps.

  I peeked out the front and saw the taxi pull up. “Right on time,” I murmured to myself. Turning to Summer, I gave her a warm smile. “Don’t let Xavier distract you from the good time you’re about to have tonight.”

  “Don’t let Boris distract you from yours,” she retorted with a wink.

  I slid into the backseat of the taxi and pulled out my phone. I thought about texting Boris, but I hesitated.

  Summer is right. I will not be able to go into this date with an open mind if I am thinking about Boris. And if Summer thinks Franco is on par with Boris, I have a lot to look forward to, I thought excitedly.

  As soon as we slowed down in front of a small brick building wedged between a bridal boutique and a bakery, my nerves revved up. Handing the driver a few dollars, I climbed out of the car and stood frozen on the sidewalk. The building looked dark because the four street facing windows were blacked out.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I thought fretfully. I’m about ten blocks up and one block over from home so I could always walk back. I mean, truly, I could’ve walked here but with the sun setting and the height of these heels, that wouldn’t have been wise.

  What is this place? I thought staring at the brick building, willing it to give me some indication of what it was.

  “Hi.” A man’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and back to the busy street. A family of four walked between me and the brick building and when they passed, I saw him. He was gorgeous—tall with thick curly brown hair and piercing green eyes.

  James Franco, I thought as Summer’s description took shape and manifested into the man who stood in the doorway. I guess I can see why she would call him Franco.

  He walked out of the doorway and met me on the curb. Taking my hand between his, he kissed the exposed skin of my knuckles. “I’m Jordan Moretti. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  My mouth instantly went dry and my heart pounded in my chest. I could almost see the sparks between us and it took me by surprise. Oh my goodness, I thought, swallowing thickly.

  “I’m Autumn,” I introduced myself nervously. Taking a deep breath, I tried to ignore the tingling sensation his lips left on the back of my hand and repeated, “I’m Autumn Jones. It’s nice to meet you, Jordan.”

  He let go of my hand and flashed a lopsided smile that was adorably shy and yet incredibly sexy. His shyness and gentlemanly qualities had me feeling completely taken by him.

  “Would you like to come in?” he asked, backing away and opening the door for me.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Watch your step,” he warned as he placed his hand on the small of my back and used his other hand to cup my elbow to steady me.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. A complete gentleman, I thought as I stepped up onto the main landing of the rectangular room. It was well-lit and looked very artsy.

  “It’s
beautiful in here,” I said as I took in my surroundings, gesturing to the art on the walls. “I feel like I’m in a museum.” I turned to him and continued, “It looked dark from the outside.”

  “Yeah, the windows are heavily tinted because it’s bad for the paintings to be exposed to direct sunlight. And I don’t want people staring in here when I’m here. I have an apartment upstairs.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Oh cool,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Great, now I’m in a strange man’s home on the first date, I thought cynically. This is going to sound fantastic on the 11 o’clock news.

  He laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. “I promise this wasn’t a feeble attempt to get you to my place on the first date. There’s more to this. I promise. Follow me.”

  He walked toward a back room and I followed behind him. When we turned into the room, I stopped abruptly. Thick rolls of plastic covered the floor and the walls. There were no art supplies anywhere. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I backed out of the room.

  “What the hell is that?” I screeched, discreetly opening my handbag so I could grab my keys. I kept my eyes trained on him.

  Jordan stopped and turned around. “What’s what?” he asked cautiously as he opened a closet door. He pulled out two coveralls and shook them.

  “Are you okay? We need to put these on because this can get messy.”

  “No, I’m not okay! I know a kill room when I see one,” I burst out, gesturing to the plastic everywhere.

  As I gestured, I looked around and noticed the paint on the floor and the two white canvases leaning against the white wall. The easels and stools were in the corner, partially covered in plastic. The realization of my mistake hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Putting my face in my hands, I shook my head. “Oh no. No. No.”

  Laughing hysterically, Jordan dropped the coveralls on the floor and propped himself up against the wall.

  The embarrassment swallowed me whole and I felt my entire body redden. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t do anything but laugh. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized as I laughed along with him. His constant laughter fueled mine and I had tears dripping from my eyes.

  “You said…kill room!” He chuckled again, gasping for air.

  “I… have nothing,” I said, lifting my shoulders, shaking my head as I failed to explain the mistake. So I just apologized again. “I’m sorry. I completely misread this entire situation.”

  “Yes, you did,” he agreed, still amused. “And you clearly watch too much Dexter.”

  “Dexter, Law & Order, crime shows, horror movies…you know, I blame the entertainment industry for this mix-up,” I rambled, looking down at the pointed toes of my shoes. I wiped away the remaining tear that rested in the corner of my eye.

  I heard him move, but I was too mortified to look up and make direct eye contact. I pretty much called Jordan a murderer, I thought, preparing myself for the end of the date. He’s so cute and gentlemanly; too bad I ruined what could’ve been an awesome date.

  I heard the gentle scraping of the heavy coveralls sliding against the plastic. Even though I didn’t see him toss them across the room, I heard it when they noisily fell against the wooden stools. Since his laughter had come to a halt, the room was completely silent.

  Jordan’s footsteps were steady and purposeful as he padded his way toward me. He stopped just in front of me and the tips of his toes met the tips of mine. Trying to shake off the embarrassment, I peeked up at him through my lashes.

  Cupping my face with both of his hands, he lifted my head. His emerald green eyes sparkled as they searched my face.

  “You are absolutely beautiful,” Jordan whispered, running his thumbs over my cheeks. Our faces gravitated toward one another and hovered with our noses just barely touching. “And you’re smart for being suspicious. It was stupid of me to bring you here on a first date. You don’t know me and the windows are tinted and there’s plastic all over the room. I’m out of practice with this whole dating thing. Don’t be embarrassed. Please. It’s my fault. I was nervous to meet you and this painting date at my place was a lapse in judgment.”

  My heart drummed in my chest as I looked at him. The sincerity in his eyes coupled with the sweetness of his words took my breath away. I pretty much called him Dexter and he called me beautiful. He has got to be the sweetest man I’ve ever met, I thought as swallowed the lump in my throat.

  His eyes dropped to my lips and then met my eyes again. “Forget the painting. Let me take you to the second part of the date. Is that okay with you?”

  Scared my voice would break, I just nodded slowly.

  We gazed into each other’s eyes and all of my nerves dissolved completely. I’d never seen eyes that shade of green before and I was mesmerized. And then it hit me. I knew nothing about him besides his name and I wanted him to kiss me. In fact, I’d never wanted to kiss someone more than I wanted to kiss Jordan Moretti in that moment. Slowly, I licked my lips and waited. Kiss me, kiss me, I yelled silently.

  “I want to kiss you,” Jordan admitted softly, reading my thoughts. Letting my face go, he grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles instead. “But you deserve a proper date first.”

  Hand and hand, I let him pull me out of the back room, through the main room and out of the building without another word.

  After locking the main door, he turned to me and smiled. “Ready for dinner?”

  “Yes.” I smiled up at him. “And I really am sorry about earlier.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Don’t be sorry. But be ready to discuss your love of horror movies and crime shows over dinner,” he quipped as we walked down the block.

  “Ha! We can talk about anything you want.”

  “I will be holding you to that. But in the meantime, I need to know if you like Italian food.”

  “I love it. It’s my favorite.”

  “Good,” he said, seemingly relieved. We turned the corner to a cobblestoned alcove that housed a few of the best and most highly regarded restaurants in the city. “Here we are.”

  “Ciao Bella?” I said as we walked up to the door.

  Jordan put his hand on the large knob of the restaurant and paused. “Have you ever been here before?”

  “Yes. A few times and it’s magnificent.” I smoothed my hand over my dress.

  “What did you like best about it?”

  “The food. Best lasagna in DC. Hands down. Probably the best lasagna anywhere. Oh, and the breadsticks!” Subconsciously, I rubbed my belly as the realization that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast hit me. “I’m definitely getting lasagna and breadsticks.”

  And a safety pin to keep my dress from popping open when I burst through the seams, I thought as images of me devouring breadstick after breadstick in the skin tight dress flooded my brain. I have to be strong. This date has already started off wrong!

  “Good to hear.” Letting go of my hand for the first time since we left his building, Jordan opened the door of the restaurant for me.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked, inhaling deeply and smelling the delicious Italian cooking wafting in the air.

  He nodded. “I’ll be right back,” Jordan announced before walking to the hostess stand.

  I took a seat on the bench and watched him shake hands with the man in a black suit. As he talked to the maître d, I let my eyes run over his body. Jordan wore a black, button-up shirt with a pair of denim jeans and black dress shoes. In this formal setting, he looked casual and still completely in his element. Watching him gesture around the room, I could see his muscles underneath the material of his shirt.

  Yum, I thought as he ran his hands through his curly hair. My eyes glazed over as I settled into a fantasy of him shirtless, kissing me. I bit my lip to keep myself from grinning like a giddy school girl. My eyes traveled from his fitted shirt that seemed to gently stretch over his biceps to his long jean-clad legs and then back up. When my eyes returned to his face, I noticed he was looking r
ight back at me. I averted my eyes quickly. Yep, he caught me. I can’t stop embarrassing myself in front of this man.

  Jordan walked over to me and helped me out of my chair by pulling my arm. Once I was standing, he leaned close and asked, “Do you have a problem eating outside?”

  His minty breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine. Keeping my voice as calm and steady as possible, I said, “No, not at all.”

  Grabbing my hand again, he walked me to the back of the restaurant. Oh, I’ve never seen this part of the restaurant before, I thought as we walked past the restaurant’s bathrooms to a small cove. A hidden doorway opened to a dimly lit spiraling staircase. Climbing the flight of stairs carefully until we made it to a heavy metal door, I felt a sense of excitement course through me.

  “You ready?” Jordan playfully asked before pushing the door open.

  Black, wrought-iron tables and chairs lined the edge of the wall, leaving just one table for two sitting in the middle. My mouth fell open as I took in the candles and flowers that adorned the tabletop.

  “Wow,” I breathed as I took everything in. I was so caught up in the view that I didn’t even realize that I had made it to the table.

  “This is beautiful,” I gushed as he pulled my chair out for me. I sat down and my eyes swept across our surroundings. “How did you pull this off? I didn’t even know this place had rooftop dining! This is…wow!”

  Chuckling a little, he said, “I’m glad you like it. Hopefully, it makes up for the painting mishap.”

  “Totally,” I affirmed with a nod. “But how did you pull this off?”

  “It’s not too difficult when you own the place.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. And I’m also the head chef so I’m glad you said the food was the best thing about this place.” He smiled charmingly while giving a sharp nod, beckoning to someone behind me.

  A waiter appeared with water, only to leave and quickly return with wine and breadsticks.

  Jesus be a fence, I thought as I eyed the garlic and butter covered bread.

 

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