David narrowed his eyes as if thinking. “Nothing fancy. I am curious to try a certain Southern cuisine.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Grits.”
Lauren laughed out loud with surprise, her voice reverberating off the hard marble surfaces in the cavernous space. “Well, there’s a Waffle House within walking distance. It’s definitely not fancy—full of southern charm. You’ve never tried grits?”
David chuckled. “No, I have not. The Waffle House sounds delightful.” He turned sideways and offered his bent elbow to her. “Shall we?”
Lauren looped her arm with his and they walked out of the lobby into the brisk morning. The sun was rising from behind the tall office buildings, throwing slanted rays of pastel colors across the deserted four lanes of West Paces Ferry Road.
They chatted about nothing of importance, walking the four blocks to the tiny, rectangular brown and yellow building famous for its waffles and grits. David held the door open for her and they were greeted with aromatic wafts of bacon, coffee, and the shrill southern drawl of a middle-aged woman named Sally who welcomed them as if they had entered her own home. They slid into a corner booth made of faux wood with colorful, laminated menus already laid out on the Formica tabletop. The restaurant wasn’t particularly busy with only a few patrons sitting at the high bar and a couple with a toddler on the opposite end near the jukebox.
“Is this okay? They don’t really have anything organic or clean to offer. I should have thought this through,” Lauren whispered as David unbuttoned his jacket.
“It’s perfect.” He grinned back at her.
Sally was at their table in an instant, flipping over the white mugs and filling them with jet black coffee. “How’re y’all doing this morning?” she asked cheerfully. Several gold stars were pinned to her brown Waffle House apron—an indication she was, perhaps, a longtime employee of the establishment.
“We are fantastic, Sally. How are you?” David replied.
Her eyes widened with revelation as she put her hand on her hip and held the pot in her free hand. Running her tongue across her top lip, she nodded before she offered an ear-splitting grin. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”
He seemed amused and chuckled, wrapping his large hands around the mug. “No madam, I am not. I’m from across the pond… England.”
Sally hollered over her shoulder to a tall, bearded man on the grill. “Hey, Lucky! Ya gotta hear this English fella talk!” She turned back to David. “Your accent is just about the cutest thing I’ve heard all day. And ya sure are a handsome fella too.” She gave Lauren a congratulatory wink, making her giggle.
“Why thank you, Sally. What a charming thing to say.”
Lauren was sure David was exposed to these kinds of comments on a daily basis. How could he not be? The man did not look like a local Southerner about to eat breakfast in a dive. He was too beautiful. He was a Rolls Royce parked in a junkyard.
“You’re welcome, honey. Y’all need any creamer to go with your coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Lauren replied.
Sally reached over to the booth next to them, grabbed a metal carafe of creamer and set it on their table. “Here ya go darlin’. Do y’all know what you want, or do you need a few?”
David picked up the sticky menu and tried to hide his smile. “We’ll take a ‘few’ if you don’t mind.”
Sally nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back, sweetie-pie.” When she turned and walked toward her other customers, Lauren swore the woman sashayed her ass on purpose.
“David, we don’t have to eat here.”
He shook his head and shrugged off his jacket. “No, this is great. Although, I am going to have to spend the rest of the day in the gym. One pecan waffle is 530 calories!”
Lauren laughed while pouring a small amount of cream into her mug. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t we each order the ‘All Star Breakfast’ and split the waffle so you can at least try it. It’s huge—enough for two people.”
He raised his trademark eyebrow in agreement. “That sounds like a plan.”
Sally came back to their table with an order pad and pen. “So, what’ll it be sugar bears?”
David glanced at the menu and pointed to a picture. “We shall both have the All Star Breakfast, please.”
“How do you want your eggs, honey bunch?” Sally asked while scribbling.
“Lauren? How do you like your eggs?”
She was touched he asked her, his chivalry on full display. “Over easy?”
He looked back up at Sally. “Over easy for the both of us…”
Sally suddenly cut him off and yelled at the cook. “Lucky! Get over here lickety-split and listen to this fancy English man talk!” She leaned into David’s face. “You’ve got the prettiest accent I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”
Lucky appeared, wiping his hands on his apron. “Okay. Let’s hear it,” he mumbled with a thick, southern accent.
“So, you want your eggs over easy. Bacon or sausage?”
“Bacon, please. Extra crispy.” He looked at Lauren who nodded. “For the young lady as well.”
Sally giggled, looking up at Lucky who was not impressed. “Wheat or white bread for your toast and grits or hash browns?”
David paused. “Wheat, please. Grits for the both of us and we would like to try one of your pecan waffles.”
Sally elbowed Lucky in the ribs. “Did you hear that? He said pi-con. Not pea-can!” Lucky rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head before sauntering back to the grill area. “Anything else? Orange juice? Milk? Some English tea?” She burst out laughing at her own pitiful joke.
David chuckled in response. “No, Sally. I believe that will do.”
“It’ll be out in just a few, darlin’.” She winked again, gathered the menus, and made her way back to the register where she proceeded to holler their order to Lucky.
“She’s a character,” David grinned before he took a sip of coffee. “And this is a great cup of coffee. I love it!”
Lauren smiled and took off her jacket, getting comfortable, ready for some small talk. She added a little more cream to her own mug. “So, I know you travel a lot. Does that give you any time for hobbies?” She wanted to get to know the real David Randle.
As the other patrons and wait staff buzzed around them, she focused on the gorgeous man sitting across from her. He offered that he was a die-hard car enthusiast and had several collectible vehicles in storage back home in England. He had even obtained his racing license a few years back and entered one of his vintage cars in the Italian race, Mille Miglia, which he explained was a one-thousand mile open-road endurance race limited to cars produced no later than 1957. His face lit up when he talked about his beloved Bellevue Jaguar Roadster. Resting her chin on her hand, she drank him in, perfectly content in their little corner booth talking about expensive cars and Italian races.
“And what about you, Lauren? What are your hobbies?” He mimicked her, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand as if waiting for her answer. The man was adorable.
“Well, I like to shop. In consignment stores. Not the kind that are like a garage sale, but the good kind. The stores with the designer labels. I appreciate nice clothes and shoes, but on my income, a girl has to watch her pennies. I’m always looking for a great deal. Whoever invented the designer consignment shop is totally boss!”
“I agree,” he nodded. “I’ve worn many a designer, but it has always been a bit depressing knowing that the majority of people in the world can’t afford most of them. Consignment stores are a superb option for those on a budget.”
Lauren proudly picked up her bomber jacket and passed it across the table. “This jacket is a Cavalli. Normally sells for around twelve-hundred. I got it at a consignment shop right around the corner for a hundred-fifty.”
“One hundred and fifty dollars for a Cavalli? I’m im
pressed.” He ran his hand over the sinuous leather before handing it back to her.
“My boots are vintage Valentino. I actually got these at an estate sale I was invited to by a patron at the St. Regis. I lucked into that one. I’m gonna wear these boots out!” She laughed, hoisting her leg up on the booth bench patting the rich leather.
David leaned forward clasping both hands with his elbows on the table and admired her boots. His eyes crinkled as he dazzled her with his smile. “You’re a clever girl.”
Sally interrupted them, holding several plates up one arm before she efficiently placed them on the table.
“Here ya go kiddos. The All Star Breakfast with a pea-con waffle on the side. Enjoy!”
“Thank you,” they both said in unison.
David reached for the sugar dispenser and was about to shake some onto his grits.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Lauren asked grabbing him by the wrist.
“What do you mean? I’m adding a little sugar to the grits.”
She shook her head while stifling a smile. “Oh, no… this isn’t like cream of wheat. Allow me.” Picking up her spoon, she added a teaspoon of soft butter to the speckled bowl and crumpled up a piece of bacon sprinkling it on top. She then added a generous amount of salt and pepper before digging her spoon in and holding it up to David’s lips. He raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded slowly, coercing him to open his mouth. He leaned toward her and placed his lips over the utensil, taking in the mound of goo and slowly chewed.
“That’s how you eat grits in the south,” she said with satisfaction.
Leaned back, he continued to chew as if contemplating the texture and taste of the spoonful of grits. “What exactly is a ‘grit’ anyway?” he asked with his mouth full.
She laughed while pouring maple syrup over their pecan waffle. “It’s hominy.” He shook his head, not understanding. “The middle part of the corn kernel.”
“Oh.”
“What do you think?”
He paused, wiping his lips with a paper napkin. “It’s quite… different. Not something I would normally eat on a regular basis, but it is strangely… delicious.” His beautiful eyes sparkled like the sun glinting on the ocean’s surface causing her breath to hitch.
“Well, now you can cross that off your bucket list.”
They lingered over breakfast, their conversation effortless in the cozy booth. When the plates were cleared and they finished the last of the coffee, they shrugged on their coats with the morning sun beaming in through the window. Breakfast cost a mere eighteen dollars, and David insisted Sally and Lucky keep the change when he handed her a one-hundred-dollar. The woman caused a small scene showering him with hugs and kisses of gratitude, calling him every southern term of endearment known to man.
As they walked through the parking lot arm in arm with Sally waving dramatically from behind the frosted glass of the restaurant window with tears of appreciation glistening in her eyes, Lauren snickered. “You made a grown woman cry.”
David was silent, but she could see a hint of a smile on his handsome profile.
The walk back to the St. Regis Hotel didn’t take long, and Lauren’s mood turned somber, knowing her time with David was once again coming to a close. Time seemed to pass way too quickly when she was with him. She knew he probably had obligations with his sister’s wedding and she had an afternoon children’s acting class to teach at the Spruill Arts Center. He hadn’t talked about making any future plans with her, so she assumed this really was the end of their brief acquaintance.
They ambled along the front drive of the beautiful hotel, admiring the center fountain, the sound of the water calming among the perfectly trimmed boxwoods and Leland cypress trees. David seemed melancholy, and she watched him throw a coin into the water before shoving his hands into his coat pockets. When he turned to look at her, his smile appeared sad. If she had a camera in that moment, she would have taken the most gorgeous photo of supermodel, David Randle with the luxurious hotel in the background.
“What did you wish for?” she asked trying very hard to memorize every single detail of the man standing in front of her.
He shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. “I wished that I could spend this entire day with you.”
“With me?”
Looking up at her, his gaze was penetrating. “Yes.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and approached her, gently pulling her into his chest by the ends of her scarf. Placing his hands on her cheeks, their lips almost touched as he stared purposefully into her eyes. “I would like to kiss you now,” he whispered, his warm breath floating over her bottom lip.
Speechless, all she could do was nod and close her eyes, her breathing on hold for several seconds. She felt him pull her against his broad chest, and she nervously wrapped her arms around his waist. When their lips finally collided, she swore she could hear the angels singing.
Chapter Four
Lauren burst through her apartment door and threw her keys on the side table. Her roommate, Jordan, looked up from her laptop and craned her head to look over her shoulder. Surprise showed on her face from behind large, horn-rimmed glasses as she sat on a well-worn sofa positioned in the center of the room. She was dressed in plaid pajama pants and her hair was an astonishing blue color similar to the Smurfs, pulled back into a tiny ponytail.
“Hey, you,” she said stroking an orange tabby cat sitting next to her.
“Hey,” Lauren replied breathlessly, pulling off her jacket.
“You were up early. And you were out late. What have you been up to?”
Lauren moseyed to the sofa and plopped down next to her friend, taking the laptop from her crossed legs.
“Hold on, what are you doing? I’m in a Pokémon chat room,” Jordan fretted.
Lauren peered at the small screen anxiously scrolling through Google to find what she was looking for as her roommate looked on curiously with her brow furrowed.
Several clicks later, a large photo of David Randle’s face filled the entire screen in all of his supermodel glory. She placed the computer back on Jordan’s lap and started to pull off her boots.
Her friend pursed her lips to the side of her mouth as if trying to figure out what was going on. “Okay, so he’s drop dead gorgeous, but not really my type. What are you getting at?”
“You asked me what I’ve been up to.”
“Huh?” She had a confused look on her face, looking at Lauren then back at the computer screen several times.
“Him. That’s what I’ve been up to. David Randle. I met him last night at the St. Regis while I was working. We hung out and had a few drinks and then I met him this morning for breakfast.”
“Wha…?” Jordan’s mouth gaped and her brown eyes became huge saucers from behind the frames of her glasses.
Lauren nodded enthusiastically, relieved to finally share the news of how lady luck had smiled upon her. She grabbed the computer back and scrolled through several more photos as her roommate looked on, resting her chin on her shoulder.
Lost in the sea of images, they both moaned at the iconic shot of him in his underwear on a New York City billboard. “Isn’t he absolutely the most beautiful specimen of a man you have ever laid eyes on?” Lauren sighed. The orange cat brushed up against her and she absent-mindedly started stroking his fur. “He’s not just good looking either,” she added. “He is one of the nicest, most sincere men I’ve ever met. A true English gentleman.”
Jordan laid her head back on the sofa dreamily. “I’ll bet his accent is to die for. Do you get to see him again? Or was this a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence?”
Lauren smiled as she closed the laptop and placed it on their cluttered coffee table. “I get to see him tomorrow—at his sister Catherine’s wedding. I’m his invited guest.”
“Are you kidding me?”
She shook her head, barely able to contain herself. “Jordan…. He just kissed me. David Randle kissed me!”
“What? Seriously, do
n’t be kidding with me!” She sat up straight, punching Lauren in the arm.
“Ow! I’m not!” she replied, rubbing her sleeve.
“Holy shit…. A famous supermodel locked lips with you and you get to go to a wedding with him tomorrow. Are you the luckiest girl in the world or what?”
“Or what.”
The two girls burst out laughing, both excited about the possibilities.
“You gotta fuck him.”
“Jordan!”
“No, seriously! You have to! How many women can say they’ve fucked a famous supermodel?” Jordan laughed, opening the computer back up on her lap. David’s half naked body appeared on the screen again as her lips curled up into a supportive smile.
Lauren shook her head from side to side, her cheeks flushed with awkwardness. She had never been that kind of girl. Most of her recent dates ended with a polite kiss on the cheek, not a jump in the sack. There was only one guy she’d ever been intimate with in her life—their four-year relationship during college a sweet school romance. He completely stole her heart, and she briefly thought he might be the one she could possibly marry. But after graduation, for reasons still unknown to her, he broke her stolen heart into a million pieces and ended the relationship. The mere thought of that kind of intimacy again scared her to death.
Moving the cat gently off the couch, she stood and crossed the room toward her bedroom. “It’s not like that. Just be happy for me Jordan. This is pretty major.” She paused in the doorframe and turned around. “I’m very tired from my eyes popping out of my head for the past twenty-four hours. My lips are a bit sore too, so I think I need a nap.” She slammed her door dramatically.
“Yes. This is major,” Jordan giggled as she yelled after Lauren. “And if you won’t fuck him, I’ll happily volunteer….”
***
Lauren found it extremely hard to concentrate during her ninety-minute class full of middle school kids whose parents had paid good money for her to teach musical audition techniques to. They’d been working on songs to perform during auditions—mostly for school productions and agency work. Thirty seconds of warbled notes coming out of miniature Broadway wannabes. If she had to listen to one more tween girl belt out “Let It Go” from the movie musical Frozen, she thought she might go certifiably crazy! Her regular accompanist, Brandy, seemed to sense she was a little “off.” During their fifteen-minute snack break, she approached Lauren, showing concern in her knitted eyebrows.
The Nearness of You: A British celebrity, standalone love-at-first-sight romance Page 3