Cindy pulled back and stared at me with a lighthearted but astonished expression. "Thanks a lot!" she said with a sarcastic smile.
I shrugged. "All I'm saying is maybe he's into girls who wear sweatshirts."
Chapter 17
Thankfully, it was on a Thursday that I had the awkward encounter with Cindy at work. We were smiling and everything, but she definitely wasn't used to me doing anything but telling her how great she looked and how talented she was. That was part of my job, and I was normally all right with it, it's just that I wasn't going to sit there and let someone tell me I was plain looking—even if they had done it inadvertently.
I saw Isaac that night after work. We both had a busy day, so we stayed at my place and ordered takeout. I didn't mention the conversation I had with Cindy since that would only lead me to admit that she had offended me with the sweatshirt comment. I did, however, admit that Courtney had captured his image getting out of their swimming pool, and he got a kick out of that. We were curled up on the couch when I told him about it.
He laughed. "If I would have known that, I would have flexed for you."
I stared at the side of his face. He had completely shaved his beard a couple of weeks before, but he hadn't shaved since, and now he had another really short beard started. I really didn't care what he did with his facial hair because he looked handsome no matter what.
"Believe me, you did not need to flex," I said. "I almost had a heart attack as it was."
"What, you liked my muscles?" he asked.
I reached across his chest and touched his arm, running my hand over his forearm and then up to his bicep. I never dreamed that the simple act of touching a man's arm could cause such sensations in my body.
"Yep," I said. I let my hand fall onto his stomach. He had on a shirt, but I could feel his abs through the thin fabric.
"Oh, you like my abs, too?" he asked, smiling at me.
I nodded seriously.
"Did they show in the video?" he asked.
I continued nodding. "It looked like a commercial," I said.
"A commercial for what?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Getting in shape or something. Maybe a swimming pool commercial."
He laughed. "I didn't know her surveillance cameras were so high definition."
"It wasn't," I said. "It was kinda far away. I wish it had been a lot closer. I had to hold the phone about an inch from my face."
He patted his stomach. "I wouldn't mind giving you a replay, but I just ate Thai food. I can't promise it'll be as impressive as when I first finish a swim."
"It feels pretty impressive," I said, letting my fingertips roam over his taut belly.
Isaac reached down and lifted his shirt. He only exposed a few inches of skin, but it was enough. I saw his plaid boxers peeking out of the edge of his jeans, and right above that, there was a perfect little trail of hair leading to his belly button. He didn't expose his whole stomach or anything, but there was enough showing for me to appreciate some ridges and bumps. I could barely breathe as I reached out and let my fingertips touch his skin. I only touched him for a second or two before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it down. I looked at him with wide eyes that made him smile.
"Too much," I said.
"Too much what?" he asked, still smiling.
"Too much temptation."
***
The next day was Friday, and while Isaac had to work, I didn't. I still set my alarm for the ridiculous hour of 6:30 so that I could go for a morning ride with them. It was really too cold to ride, but Isaac and Daniel had planned on dressing warm and doing it anyway, so I decided to go along. I had been out riding with Isaac a few times before, but never on one of their early-morning rides.
He planned on going for a swim at Daniel's afterward, but I went home. I knew he was doing it for exercise and it wasn't as if we would just be messing around in the pool. Plus, I know myself well enough to know that seeing him like that seriously was too much temptation. I could barely handle the little sneak peek of his abs, much less seeing his whole body up close and soaking wet like that.
We only rode for twenty minutes, but I was freezing afterward, so while Isaac went to Daniel and Courtney's for a swim, I went to my house for a hot bath. We met up later that afternoon once he finished work. We had plans to have dinner before going to a concert.
One of my favorite bands was playing at The Blackbird. Isaac's hotel was nearby, and he saw the exterior nearly every day, but he had never been inside. He was nearly as excited as I was.
We had six tickets for the show. Mom and Dad were coming with us, along with my brother and Taylor. I thought about asking everyone to join us for dinner beforehand, but we had just been at Mom's for lunch on Sunday and then again for dinner on Wednesday. Isaac would soon have to go back to Chicago, so I decided he and I would just eat dinner alone and then meet them at the show.
I made reservations at a really nice restaurant called The Maison Blanche. I had never been there before, but I had heard really good things about it. I called a week in advance, which was apparently too late to make a reservation for a Friday. It was, however, an easy fix once I told them I worked at WMC. I thought they would make me specify what exactly I did there, but they didn't. All I had to do was mention that I worked there, and they gave me the reservation.
Isaac had no idea where we were going for dinner. I told him to wear his 'church clothes', though, so he knew it must be nice. I dressed up as well. I couldn't help but think of Cindy's comment as I was getting ready, so I took a little extra time with my hair and makeup.
I really did enjoy doing hair and makeup, but I was usually so preoccupied with doing it on other people that my own appearance fell by the wayside. My hair almost always ended up in a bun and my makeup was minimal.
Tonight was different. I didn't wear a ton of makeup or anything, but I took time and care with applying it and with styling my hair. I had natural curls that I helped along and softened with a curling iron and added a few small braids and pinned pieces up here and there. I applied translucent blush and lipstick that coordinated with my pale pink sweater, and I wore black slacks and heels.
I had gotten dressed up to go out with Isaac a couple of other times, but he still made a big deal of it, telling me I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and things like that. He was dressed in dark clothing—black slacks and a dark gray shirt with a striped scarf and wool coat. His beard was trimmed and his hair was combed away from his face, and I realized looking at him, that there was no possible way I could be prouder. I would not change a single thing about this man.
We got to the restaurant at 6:30. It wasn't far from the venue, but I knew the show would start at 8, and I didn’t want to be late. It was a small place, but there was hardly an empty seat in the house. The hostess took our coats and led us to a table for two in the backroom against the wall. It was everything I expected from the reviews—attentive servers with candle lit tables and white linens.
The server gave us our menus and told us about the specials before taking our drink order. She left to get our drinks, and Isaac and I began to look over the menu, commenting on the fact that nothing had prices next to it. He told me to order anything I wanted, but that was honestly a difficult thing for me to do. While I had been raised in a family with privileges, the idea of waste not want not was something that had been ingrained in me since a child. I scanned the menu, leaning towards chicken or pasta rather than lobster or duck.
Actually, I wanted the duck.
Nana had cooked it before, stewed in a pot with rice and gravy, but I had never eaten it at a fancy restaurant, and I imagined that it was a different experience.
"How much do you think the duck costs?" I whispered to Isaac.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "Get it if that's what you want."
"I'm thinking about it," I said.
We stared at the menu for a minute longer before the server came, smiling at us and setting
down our drinks.
"Did you have any questions about the menu?" she asked.
"We're going to a concert after this," Isaac said. "We need to leave in an hour. Should we go ahead and get our orders in?"
"Definitely," she said, nodding. "Especially if you'd like to order an appetizer."
"Is there anything we shouldn't order?" he asked. "Anything that takes longer?"
She glanced at the menu as she considered that but then shook her head. "I think you should be okay with anything as long as we get the order in now."
"Okay then," he said. "We'll start with the bacon wrapped quail. I'll have the fillet cooked medium with asparagus and potatoes, and the lady will have the duck."
"And for your vegetables?" the server asked, glancing at me.
"Asparagus and potatoes?" I said, since Isaac's order sounded good.
She nodded, and we both handed her our menus.
I smiled at him as she walked away. "You got me the duck," I said.
"I hope that's okay," he said.
"It is. I wanted it. I wanted to try that quail, too. I'm glad you got that. I don't think I've ever eaten quail."
He shrugged. "I've only had it once or twice, but I'm sure it'll be good. I figured you could wrap a boot in bacon and it would taste good."
I laughed. "I'm excited. I'm excited about seeing Sunday Morning Sundown, too. I can't wait."
"I'm happy about going to The Blackbird," he said. "I've heard about ten different people say how nice it is in there."
We talked for the next little while about different bands, and music venues, and concerts we'd seen. The server brought our appetizer, which was deliciously bacon-y just like we anticipated. There were five pieces so I ate two and gave Isaac three since that was basic date math.
We were in the middle of a conversation about food when Isaac looked over my shoulder. I could tell by the look on his face that he was warning me about someone approaching. I assumed it was the server, so I turned to look at her as she stepped next to me.
"Hey!" I said after a second of stunned silence.
"Hey," Cindy said.
There she was, standing right next to me in all her blonde glory. She had on a red dress that hugged every curve of her tall, slender body.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I came over to ask you the same thing!" she said. "I could see Mr. Charles from our table, and I knew he was here with someone, but I didn't figure out it was you until just a minute ago when you turned around. I couldn’t believe it!"
She stared at me with a slightly confused smile, and I felt my legs begin to bounce up and down with nervous energy.
I glanced over my shoulder, trying to see where she had come from.
"I'm here with some friends," she said.
Chapter 18
"We're going to a concert at The Blackbird after this," Cindy added.
Her appearance at our table was so sudden and unexpected that I could hardly think of anything to say. I was sitting there, trying to process the fact that she may or may not be putting it together that I was the sweatshirt girl her friend had seen with Isaac, and wondering whether or not I should even care.
"We're going to the show at The Blackbird, too," Isaac said, since I was temporarily lost in thought.
"That's crazy," Cindy exclaimed, with a huge smile directed at him. "We all had the same idea!"
"Sunday Morning Sundown is one of Shelby's favorite bands," Isaac said.
"Oh, I didn't know that!" Cindy said, looking at me with wide eyes as if to imply there were lots of things she didn't know.
I smiled and nodded.
"You're all dolled up for the occasion," she said, gesturing at me.
"So are you," I said.
She stood beside our table, somewhat awkwardly for a few seconds before looking at Isaac.
"You'll never believe it. I think we have a mutual acquaintance. I was on my friend's Facebook page, and I saw a picture of you. She's somebody I knew from New York. Jillian Turner. Beck Turner's daughter. I was blown away when I saw your picture on her page!"
I started to feel nauseous and I clenched my fist open and closed under the table, hoping the physical movement would distract me from the unwanted sensations that occurred as a result of hearing Jillian's name. I couldn't fathom that after all this time she was bringing up that God forsaken picture. What in the world was wrong with this girl?
"Anyway," Cindy said, seeing that neither of us seemed excited about discussing Jillian. "I guess I should get back over to my table. I hate to interrupt your first date."
"It's not our first date," Isaac said.
"Oh, really?" Cindy said with a look of surprise. "I didn't know you guys had been out before. Shelby didn't tell me that."
She was trying to cause some kind of rift between us, but it wasn't working. Isaac stared at me for a second or two with an adoring expression that made my heart pound. I knew he was deciding what to say to Cindy, but he seemed to become content with regarding me.
"Yeah, we're together," he said to her without taking his eyes off me. "We've been seeing each other a while."
I smiled at him, and I watched as the sides of his mouth turned upward in a confident grin.
"Okay, well, it was nice seeing you both," Cindy said, tapping our table with her knuckles. "Enjoy the concert."
"Thank you," Isaac said.
"Nice seeing you too," I added.
Neither of us took our eyes off each other. We both flinched like we might do it, but we wound up locking eyes and smiling at each other while Cindy awkwardly took the hint and walked away.
The server came by at that very moment and brought our entrées. She asked if we needed anything else, and Isaac assured her we didn't. I was thankful that he took care of speaking with her because I was speechless. I reached up, putting my hands on the sides of my face and taking a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said. Cindy had mentioned the other girl's name and he knew that was likely the first thing on my mind.
"It's okay," I said, barely sparing a glance at my duck. "That's just so weird. I did not expect to run into her here."
He put his hand out on the table with his palm facing up, telling me he wanted to hold onto me. I gave him my hand.
"You're shaking," he said after a few seconds.
"I just hate confrontation," I said. "And I know she had given you her phone number or whatever."
He made a face at me. "That was weeks ago. I thought for sure you would've told her we were together by now. I mean, I've dropped you off and picked you up from work. I just assumed she—"
"She doesn't pay attention to who picks me up," I said, interrupting him. "None of them do. And I really don't talk about my life with any of them. They talk about theirs with me, but it's more of a therapist situation. I don't mind it that way because I don't need to share all my stuff."
I took a deep breath, staring at him with wide eyes and a little smile. The encounter had actually been less painful than it could have been. She could have mentioned that I was the 'plain girl' in the sweatshirt, or she could've offered more details about Jillian. I reminded myself that even though it was uncomfortable having her come over to the table and my heart was about to beat out of my chest, it could have been a lot worse.
"So quit," Isaac said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What?" I asked laughing a little.
"Quit," he repeated. "Quit your job. You just said it yourself. You're not really friends with those people."
"I know, but it's not like I have another one lined up. I've been in touch with a few people in Nashville about music videos, but I really haven't pursued it, and—"
"You don't need another job," he said. "I mean, I'm not telling you not to work or anything, but I was gonna talk to you about it, anyway. It's getting close to time for me to go back to Chicago. I know we've been kinda putting off talking about it, but I've got to go back next week. I've got things to take care of
there. Why don't you just quit your job and come with me?"
He seemed completely serious, and I just stared at him, my expression reflecting all the confusion I felt.
He smiled. "I'm serious," he said. "I was honestly thinking about talking to you about it tonight. I'm scheduled to go back next weekend, and that's going to sneak up on us. We really can't ignore it. I wish you'd come with me."
My mind raced as I sat there staring at his handsome face. He was so wonderful that I was tempted to just throw caution to the wind and tell him I'd follow him wherever he wanted to go.
But the practical side of me instantly thought of obstacle after obstacle.
Isaac tilted his head at me as if asking me to tell him what was going through my mind. He was still holding my hand on the table, and he rubbed the back of it with his thumb.
"What about Patrick and my family? What about a place to live? I can't just go move in with you, and I also can't afford a place without a job. I mean, my grandparents and uncles live up there, but I can't—"
"Shelby, slow down, my love."
I completely stopped talking when he said that—I stopped thinking for that matter. He had called me a few different pet names over the last few weeks, but never had he called me his love, and what's better was that he was staring at me adoringly like he really meant it.
My heart felt warm.
There was literally warmth filling my chest.
For a second, I couldn't even remember what my reservations had been. Oh yeah, Patrick, and a job, and a place to live, and most of all, my family. I couldn't leave Memphis. Then Isaac smiled, and oh, wait, maybe I could.
He squeezed my hand. "I know you can't leave Patrick," he said. "He would definitely come with us. And I know you can't leave your family—not permanently, at least. I thought maybe you could just come up there with me for a while, and then we'll figure out something more permanent. I figured if I'm trying to keep you, I’ll have to get closer to Memphis in the long run."
The Harder They Fall Page 12