by J. E. Chaney
It was noon on the dot when I heard a knock at the door. I rushed to the window to see Vance’s car with a black Porsche parked behind it. I stood a few seconds trying to collect my thoughts; this is normal, completely normal to dream people into life. I glanced out the window again.
I hurried to the door. Aimee was eagerly waiting for me to answer.
“He’s here.” Her face was dreamy. “And did you see his car! Meow, it’s almost as hot as he!”
“I did indeed.” I took a nervous breath. Keep it together.
“Are you excited to see him again?”
“Is there such a word as nerv-cited?” I clenched, showing my teeth.
Vance met us at the bottom of the landing and grabbed my suitcase. His tone was excessively excited. “What the hell did you pack in here? Bowling balls? Wait until you get a load of Jack’s car. Wicked siiick! By the way, he’s parked out front!”
“You two are freakishly the same person.” I shook my head following them to the car.
Jack was sitting in his car on the phone, but quickly hung up when he noticed me and hurried to help.
“Hello, again.” His voice was silky.
“Hi.” I lifted my hand to wave, but it quickly went to my neck for a nervous scratch.
He smiled, closing the hatch for me.
Vance dashed and climbed into the driver’s side of Jack’s car.
“Why do I almost feel like I need to apologize for his outlandish behavior?” I shook my head.
“It’s new. He’s been hounding me to let him drive.”
“Nine-Eleven?”
“Indeed, GTS. Fast little kitten.”
“You’re not going to let him drive are you?” I smirked.
“Not a fat chance in hell. I planned to offer you a ride...” he glanced at Vance in the car.
“Not a fat chance in hell you’ll get him out of your car.”
Jack smiled with an airy laugh.
“You do that a lot. Smile I mean.”
“Thanks. I think,” he said smoothing out his face.
“It was a compliment. You have a gorgeous smile.” I blushed deeply.
“Ah, I’m flattered.” He licked his lips into another bright smile.
“So, New York. I honestly had no clue until after the party,” I admitted.
“At this rate, they’ll be pushing for our nuptials by next weekend.”
“I can think of worse…uh…I only meant…I’ll see you in a bit.” My face blushed even deeper as I turned, striding to the Subaru passenger door before getting the chance to say another foolish word.
Aimee looked out the rear window at Jack’s car, witnessing Vance running around to the passenger side, and then she slid to the driver seat. “Holy Mary, mother of Jesus, he is hotter than bloody hell. He gets hotter by the minute!” Was the first thing out of her mouth. “That, Sasha, is baby daddy material and you my dear, are about to become his future baby momma!”
“I make such an ass of myself in his presence. It’s humiliating.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure Jack likes ass just fine.” She smirked.
“Nice. Why am I completely inarticulate when he comes around? He makes my mouth fumble.” I sank back in the seat.
“I’m sure he thinks it’s cute.” She sniggered, as we drove off.
“So where are we going?” I asked, questioning both vehicles.
“The guys had an impromptu meeting this morning with some Canadian guy to sign paperwork, and we agreed to meet here then follow Jack to his house. He’s riding with us to the airport.”
“You better be on your best behavior.” I glanced at her, knowing my words didn’t stand a chance.
We pulled into the long driveway of a rather large stone front house with tons of huge windows and a wrap-around porch.
“Oh man, future baby daddy is gorgeous and very secure.”
“There is not going to be a baby to be fathered, mothered, whatever!” I contended.
“Picture it, your first family Christmas photo on that porch,” she said, parking near the house. “I bet he has a groundskeeper.” We looked at the perfectly manicured yard. “And look, he has a holiday wreath on the door. So charming.”
We watched intently from our seats as Jack parked in the garage and headed to the car with a suitcase and garment bag storing his tuxedo.
“Let the interrogation begin.” Aimee forced a maniacal laugh.
“What are you women giggling about up there?” Vance asked, closing his door. I reached up to turn the music on, but Aimee shooed my hand away. Her mischievous expression warned that she was about to go all out Sherlock Holmes on Jack.
As the seatbelts clicked, Aimee asked, “Jack, tell us a little about yourself?”
“Specifics, huh.”
“Never married?” she asked backing down the driveway.
Oh, Jesus. I tried concealing my embarrassment.
“No. Never married.”
“Children?”
He grunted a laugh. “No. I hope not. I operate in a traditional fashion, college, career, mortgage, a plant, that’s as far as I’ve got.”
“So what’s next on the agenda, a dog perhaps, maybe a girlfriend—wife?”
I’m going to kill her.
“Ha. I like the idea of a dog. I just can’t make the commitment to care for a pet right now. Maybe someday.”
She glanced at me. “Plant it is. How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine years young.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“June fifth.”
“Ever been arrested?”
“No convictions, never been arrested, clean record, smoked pot twice in college, but didn’t inhale.” He laughed. “Um, I don’t like Asian food, and I’m a fan of college football. I drink dark whiskey, I read the political news section daily, I have a thing for long fingers, and I think cats are creepy.”
“Oh, you’re good.” She glanced back, smiling. “We’re not cat people, either. That leaves me with where did you attend college?”
“I spent four years at Duke, three more at Columbia in New York.”
“Duke, huh,” Aimee spoke indistinctly.
“Do I detect a rival in the car?” he asked.
“You’re imprisoned between a carful of Tar Heels,” I forewarned.
“Well, civil war should be entertaining this year.” Jack laughed.
“Did you play basketball for Duke?” Aimee continued.
“I played hockey until my junior year of college, then tore my ACL in training. That ended the game for me.”
“So what made you want to return to this muggy state after spending time in the big apple at Columbia?”
“My college sweetheart attended Duke, so I moved back after grad school hoping to settle down, but things didn’t go according to plan.”
“Because?”
He gave thought before answering. “I was quickly consumed in my new profession at a law firm, and she was wanting her career path in D.C.” He yawned. “Excuse me. I kept a ring in my pocket for a short while, just waiting for an opportune moment, but it never came.”
“Sounds familiar.” As quickly as he said it, Vance regretted his words.
Aimee glanced over her shoulder glaring at him. “Real nice, Jackass!”
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” he said right away reaching forward, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I honestly didn’t mean anything by that.”
Jack sensed the tension that now occupied the car. “I left my coffee in my car. Can we make a quick pit stop at a Starbucks?”
“There’s one at the airport,” Aimee said matter-of-fact.
“Well, thank you, Vance, for the intrusion.” I exhaled feeling uneasy.
“You guys don’t need to explain,” Jack thoughtfully replied. “Sasha, have you been to New York?”
“Yes. I was there for an audition at Juilliard.”
“Ballet?”
“No. Bachelors of Music, but I blew my live piano audit
ion.”
“Very impressive you at least made it as far as the addition.”
I took a deep breath. “His name was Matt. It was a year and a half ago. He died from a car accident with a ring in his pocket. He asked me to marry him the night before and I said no.”
“Holy shit! You never told me that part.” Aimee stared at me.
“Watch the road, woman,” Vance barked.
Aimee turned the rearview mirror so Vance could see her glaring.
Jack’s slow response indicated he was slightly thrown by my delayed response to Vance’s idiotic statement. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry,” he spoke with honesty. “I can’t even fathom your pain.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” Aimee pointed at me.
“Well, I’m not broken, but I was sure bruised for a while. I only said no because the way he asked, we were…anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
I honestly didn’t know what triggered my verbal spillage of Matt’s proposal, but it was a safe speculation I didn’t want to rehash this conversation at a later time, knowing it would eventually surface.
Aimee glanced at me and patted my knee. I could tell she was whole-heartedly apologetic for her husband’s unthinkingly dumb words.
I abruptly changed the subject. “Jack, do you really know how to fly?”
“I do. Would you like to be my co-captain sometime?” His tone sounded much brighter.
I grimaced, shaking my head no.
“Ah, that right, both feet on the ground. My dad was a commercial pilot, and taught me how to fly.”
My stomach sank thinking about it.
***
We boarded the small jet and got situated in our seats while Jack visited the pilot and co-captain in the cockpit. The plane was prestigious in design with beige leather seating, gold track lighting, two TVs, and a bar. I sat in a side seat, hoping Jack would sit in the empty seat next to me. Aimee and Vance sat in the rear, hoping the same.
After everything was secured, Jack sat in an angled seat close to mine and buckled in.
He saw that my belt was securely locked and my hands were firmly wrapped around the edge of the seat.
“A little worried are you?” he asked.
“That obvious?”
“Your knuckles are almost white.”
“Oh.” I released the seat and placed my hands on my lap.
“I’ve flown with Captain Foyer dozens of time. He’s the best and has a smooth landing almost every time.”
I felt the plane roll back, taking my stomach with it, then it paused a moment, and quickly accelerated forward. Jack was powering off his phone while I took a few unsteady breaths then felt the plane ascend. My eyes locked on a wing as if they were keeping it in the air until the sun made it impossible to see outside.
“You’ve never flown in a smaller aircraft I take it?”
“No, not this small. I watched La Bamba and swore never to fly in a smaller aircraft.”
“Ah, Richie Valens.” He sat back in his seat. “Good movie.”
My knees were bent, frozen into place. Every time I tried to move, I failed. “Distract me, please, before I cry,” I said, responding to the bumpy, ascending turbulence.
Jack bit at the inside of his lip a moment. “Is it hard talking about him?”
It took me a second to realize he meant Matt. “No, but he doesn’t typically come up in casual conversation. I think people fear my reaction or something.”
“Tell me about him.”
I looked at the floor deciding if that was a good idea and began nervously fidgeting with my hair. “Umm, he was young, lively, a firefighter, and worked part time doing construction for his dad. He played college baseball, and we met a few years later at a game.” I smiled slightly, remembering. “He had the cheesiest pickup line and offered me a hot dog and a stolen drink.”
“Were you together long?”
“A year. That was long for me, actually, it’s the only serious relationship I’ve had. I was always more the let’s just have fun type…that sounded bad. I meant the…anyway.” I pushed myself further back in the seat and forced a leg to my chest. “He was good to me. My needs meant something to him, which was a first. I had never given thought to marriage, but there was something about him that was easy to love, and I could easily have pictured a future with him.”
“You had the best of his heart.”
“And he, mine. I glanced out the window. “Anyway.”
“It’s a remarkable feeling and not easy to come by.”
“So why did you really let her go? I find it hard to believe work could be more important than love.”
He didn’t respond right away, instead, he repositioned himself and gave a little thought before answering. “It was power, greed. I wanted to make it to the top. I was faulted with the idea of success above all else, and I think she grew lonely, even in my presence. That’s when she decided to leave for Washington.”
“Do you regret it, letting her go?” I asked.
“Not anymore. It wouldn’t have lasted with the path I’ve chosen. She deserved the attention she wanted, and I didn’t have it to give at the time.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Have you been able to let him go?”
“Yeah. I think so. I mean, I still have his picture on my nightstand, but I no longer cry myself to sleep. It took me a while to get there, though.”
“Are you in a place where you’d consider moving on?” he asked with seemingly harmless intention.
“Are you always so forward?” I smiled a little.
Jack stared into my eyes; his expression was of contentment.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m staring at you.”
“Why?”
“It’s not every day I sit in the company of such beauty.”
“Ah, well, it’s not every day I hear such a far-fetched pickup line.” I glanced away.
“I speak my mind. Are you going to answer me?”
“Your motive, Jack?”
“I want to kiss you again, but not if you’re not in the right place. I understand if you’re not ready to get involved yet.”
“That’s hardly fair.” My brows sharpened.
“Please, elaborate?” he asked, confused.
“You’ve basically stated your philander-ish behaviors don’t permit room in your life for anyone and you ask to kiss me.”
“Philander-ish isn’t a word. I stated I didn’t have time for a heavy commitment. That’s different than not having time at all.”
“Says the one with the disconnect disorder,” I mumbled rolling my eyes in annoyance. “Not everyone can flip the no attachment switch on as well as you.”
“I’m faulted and far from perfect, I admit it. When I like something, I go for it. Is that so wrong?”
“Defective more so than faulted. And no, but then what?”
“Are you ordinarily this difficult to kiss?”
“I’m practical. Nothing good comes of having a kissing friend. I had one in high school and it ended badly.”
“I guess we’ll have to take our chances.” Jack unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to the open seat at my side. His former seat blocked the view of peering eyes from the rear. I lowered my leg back down, allowing him to unbuckle my seatbelt.
“Why do I make you so nervous?” he asked.
“Nervous is an understatement.” I breathed uneasily.
He leaned forward inches from my face, looking down at my lips. “I wouldn’t ask to kiss you if I wasn’t interested in you.”
My lip trembled anxiously as he leaned in and placed a hand on my cheek. His thumb caressed my lip softly, and then, he kissed me. It was different than our New Year kiss. He took his time, moving his lips leisurely against mine, for a slow, soft, sultry kiss. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he spoke between our lips then continued kissing me.
***
The golden yellow drapes were drawn with a tabletop telescope perched near
the window for a ninth-floor view of Central Park. The hotel room was neatly trimmed, gold fabric furniture, and fresh flowers on the table. My room was lovely, but I had little time to enjoy it with only an hour to get ready for the Nut Cracker performance.
I stepped into the floor-length black lace evening gown, then strapped on my heels and stood in front of a longstanding mirror, making sure everything looked in place. I felt a mixture of internal frenzy topped with an overdose of nerve-racking excitement. You look fine, just remember to breathe, and don’t say anything foolish.
I hurried to the door when I heard the light hand of Aimee knocking.
We ogled over each other’s gowns as she entered my room. She wore a silver strapless gown and faux fur coat.
“I wanted to check on you, are you doing okay?” She carefully hugged me.
“Yeah, I’m great.” I unintentionally looked away.
“Be honest.”
“I am. I’m great. This is just a lot to absorb in a short period.”
“He’s really into you, Sash, like really into you. Aren’t you feeling it, too?”
“Oh yeah, definitely, I mean it’s hard to explain, but I feel…connected to him already. I guess I can say that there is something more than just a physical attraction that I can’t put my finger on, but there is definitely something there.”
“Oh, girl, you got it bad.” She wrinkled her nose.
I smiled. “Yeah. I’m just not sure how far he’ll let it go. He’s made it clear he’s not into the heavy stuff.” I walked over to the mini-bar and poured us each a small glass of bourbon. “I think if he actually lets me in, it’ll be a huge leap for him, for both of us. I can’t really complain though, I’m not even sure what I hope to gain from this. I mean, just yesterday I was totally against the idea of even going on a date and here we are already on a second date.”