Sweet Dreams (Sunset Dreams Series Book 1)

by Senhaji, Jennifer

  “Come on Jen, you need to eat. Let’s go out.”

  He’s waiting for an answer… and I’m overthinking this.

  Jake’s face comes to mind, but I push it aside and say, “Sure, that sounds good. I’ve been in the mood for Italian lately.”

  Jerry beams. “Great, I’ll pick you up around seven tomorrow night?”

  “Sure, Jer, that sounds good.” He walks me back to the café and I check in to make sure everything is going smoothly, then head over to the cottage.

  Calling my dad to see how he and Nina are doing, I ask if they plan to come up soon. He tells me this week they can’t, but maybe the week after next. Later, I talk to my friend Anna for a while. She fills me in on all the new stuff her kids are up to, reminding me I need to get down to see her soon. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to get together. Catching up on a little reading, I make myself a sandwich and then decide it’s time to head back to work. My evening consists of stringing lights up on the patio while Laney takes care of the customers up front. Once she leaves, I help the customers that come in for dessert or an after dinner coffee.

  I realize it’s been over two months since Jake first came into the cafe.

  Jake.

  Maybe I have been putting my love life on hold waiting to see if something will happen with Jake, when in reality he’s only here temporarily. When he finishes whatever project he’s currently working on, he’ll be gone. Jerry is real and has been after me for months. We have a good time together and he’s nice.

  Would it be so bad to really give him a chance?

  After all, Jake and I are only friends, even if I wish we were more, and I still barely know him. He’s so guarded. The little bits of himself he lets me see I really like, but it isn’t enough. I decide tomorrow, when I’m with Jer, I will not think about Jake. I will give Jer my full attention and see where it goes.

  He deserves that. I deserve that.

  Saturday, I take the afternoon off to shop and buy a new dress for dinner. After spending more time than usual on my hair and makeup, Jer picks me up, and the look on his face tells me it was worth it. He complements me over and over on the way to the restaurant, making me feel pretty and sexy as we walk down the street. We have a nice dinner and talk easily. My veal parmesan is delicious. I try to keep my mind off Jake, but I can’t help noticing my heart doesn’t pound when Jerry is near like it does with Jake. I file that away for later and keep my full focus on Jerry. We have crème bruleè for dessert and Jerry walks me home. As we walk, I review the date in my head.

  I had a good time. The food was delicious.

  Jerry and I do have a lot in common. He listened when I talked and made me feel like the most beautiful and interesting woman in the room. He was a gentleman and held the door, pulled out my chair, and pretty much did everything you want a good date to do.

  We reach the steps and he walks me up to the door. The voice in my head says, Yeah, he’s great, but he isn’t Jake. Ignoring the voice I turn to Jerry. “I had a really good time tonight, Jer, thanks for dinner.”

  “I had a good time too, Jen.”

  I think he’s going to go for the kiss. Jake’s face flashes before my eyes and I close them, lean into Jerry, and place my lips on his as he kisses me softly. It’s brief, but he seems pleasantly surprised I kiss him and say goodnight. He bounces down the steps, and I go inside and lock my door.

  My head hangs in my hands knowing that wasn’t fair to Jer to think of Jake like that. I couldn’t help it. He just popped in.

  Ugh, this is a disaster waiting to happen.

  I throw my purse on the couch and go to the bathroom to take a shower.

  Midmorning Sunday, I get ready to leave Laney in charge when Jake in his sunglasses and baseball cap cautiously walks in. My face lights up when I see him and falls when I take in the look on his face as he shuffles toward me. He doesn’t take off his glasses and doesn’t smile.

  “Hey what are you doing here on a Sunday?” I ask cautiously.

  Without looking up from his wallet, Jake responds, “Needed a coffee.”

  Something is wrong.

  “How’s your weekend so far?” I hedge.

  “I had something that didn’t agree with me at a new restaurant,” he says bitterly, still not looking me in the eye.

  I look down as he puts the $5 bill on the counter, confused by his cold attitude, and notice the knuckles of his right hand are all bruised. “Oh my God, what happened, Jake?”

  “An accident at work, I’m okay.”

  I grab his hand. He hisses and I ask, “Are you sure? Did you have someone look at it? This looks bad.”

  “I’m fine, Jen.” His shoulders slump and he won’t make eye contact.

  Maybe the film isn’t going well.

  Still holding his hand in mine, I look up at him with a stern face and say, “Look who’s being stubborn now.” He finally looks at me and gives me a small half smile, so I decide to change the subject and bravely put myself out there to see what he does. “So, it’s Sunday, what are you up to today? I was thinking, since you’re here, I could take you up on that ride?”

  The sad look comes back and Jake apologizes. “Sorry, Jen, I don’t really have time.”

  I try to hide my disappointment and keep a smile on my face. “That’s all right, maybe another day. See ya around?”

  Jake looks at me, smiles softly, picks up his coffee, and turns toward the door. I watch him through the glass as he gets on his bike. After two sips of coffee, he angrily throws the cup away in the trash can on the sidewalk next to him, looks back at me through the window and takes off.

  There’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I can’t get the defeated look on Jake’s face out of my head.

  I hope he’s okay, I hope no one is hurt.

  His hand looked awful. Did he get into a fight?

  I have a bad feeling something’s wrong, he seemed angry.

  Tomorrow I will ask him what’s going on.

  But tomorrow he doesn’t return. Nor the next day, nor the next. My worry that something’s wrong increases with each passing day until two weeks have passed. He’s gone and he isn’t coming back.

  Chapter Nine

  Morning without you is a dwindled damn. Emily Dickinson

  I’m sad; sad and disappointed. Even the trees outside, bursting with pink and white blossoms, can’t lift my spirits.

  Why didn’t he say goodbye? What was wrong the day he came in?

  Did an emergency call him away?

  He kept saying we were friends, wouldn’t a friend mention they were leaving?

  Ugh. I’m so tired.

  My mind runs wild with the possible scenarios of what happened. He was here for work and wouldn’t stay forever. I knew that, but at some point I really thought I might be more to him than his barista. I believed him when he called me a friend. We were just getting to know each other. When he left I thought I would at least get a “Well it was great meeting you. I will look you up if I’m ever back in town. Thanks for the coffee and conversation” or something to that effect.

  Was that too much to ask?

  I feel so stupid.

  This is just like when I had a crush on my karate instructor. I started taking a class a couple days a week for fun and exercise. The instructor was always so nice to me and he was cute. I started to crush, hard. After a few months, I realized he was only a nice guy doing his job. He treated everyone the same and I was reading too much into his friendly manner. Needless to say, I didn’t make it past my yellow belt.

  Jake was being friendly. Nice to the person he saw every day, in a place he knew no one. I’m sure he gets lonely for conversation and I read more into it than there was. I was attracted to him, and he was being friendly. I didn’t think anything would come of it, but I hoped.

  Damn it, I hoped.

  This is why I couldn’t give Jer a chance, because I was too obsessed with Jake.

  There’s no one I can talk to abo
ut this. I can’t betray his privacy and so I’m stuck figuring all this out by myself.

  This sucks.

  Chapter Ten

  It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams. Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Mid June

  Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man” is in order. I soulfully sing along while I set up for opening until the phone rings.

  This is odd, no one ever calls this early.

  Turning the music down, I answer. “Good morning, Sweet Dreams, how can I help you?”

  A soft and deep male voice on the line says, “Jen?” and my heart races.

  I don’t let on I recognize his voice. “Yes, this is Jen, can I help you?”

  “I can’t get a song out of my head,” he says sadly.

  “Jake?”

  His voice perks up. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I pause to see what he says and there are a few too many seconds of silence.

  “Are you open yet?”

  Where is he going with this?

  “Not yet. I was getting ready to.”

  “Well, I miss that coffee of yours.”

  Sighing I say, “I’m sure there’s coffee wherever you are.”

  “I’m in New York. We finished shooting and are going into post production.”

  I’m not sure what he expects me to say, but hearing that he’s across the country upsets me. “I have to go, Jake, it’s time to open up.”

  “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “No problem.” I sigh, trying to affect a carefree tone.

  “See ya around?”

  I hang up, pretending like I didn’t hear.

  All week I think about his call out of nowhere. He didn’t even mention the fact that he’s been gone for over two and a half months or why he didn’t say goodbye.

  I was starting to not think about him every minute of the day. Three weeks after he left, I rented every movie he had out on DVD and watched them. I just wanted to see him again. It didn’t make me feel better, only worse, pathetic. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t him. After that, I decided I would force myself to get over it. There was no sense in moping around since there was never anything going on between us anyway.

  Now, as I’m feeling like myself again, he calls.

  I pace behind the counter as I review the phone call.

  No, I’m not going to obsess, I’m not going to get depressed or start letting myself wonder what if.

  How dare he disrupt my life like this and make me want things that I will never have!

  How dare he act so cool when I have been agonizing over him!

  I won’t let myself get upset.

  I won’t let myself hope.

  No, I’m not depressed or sad.

  No!

  Now, I’m pissed!

  Chapter Eleven

  Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. Buddha

  After cursing Jake out in my head all week for being an insensitive jerk, then chastising myself for continuing to think about him in the first place, I decide Linkin Park’s “Numb” is in order this morning. Turning the volume up loud, I set up the café for the day. I want to feel numb, but I’m angry.

  The espresso machine better look out today if it knows what’s good for it.

  Forty-five minutes until opening and I think I hear the phone ring. I look at it with a scowl, almost daring it to ring again.

  I hope it’s a telemarketer so I can let them have it.

  “Sweet Dreams, this is Jen, how can I help you?”

  Jake’s voice spills into my ear and I turn down the music to hear him say, “Sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

  This is not what I was expecting and the anger drains out of me. My breath catches and a lump forms in my throat. “Jake, I need to get ready to open up. You know what a rush I’m in in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I do. Just wanted to say sorry.”

  Oh God, this is worse than being angry. Now I don’t know what to be.

  Happy he called and apologized, sad he called and apologized, angry, because he had the nerve to call and apologize.

  “K, I gotta go, Jake.”

  “We still friends, Jen?”

  Oh he asks me, like I know…

  “Were we friends Jake?” I say hesitantly.

  “I thought so,” he responds.

  I can’t handle this right now, it’s too much. “I gotta go.” I hang up before he can say anything else and let my head fall into my hands.

  Chapter Twelve

  Listen once in a while. It’s amazing what you can hear. Russell Baker

  July

  I’m drained after the week I’ve had. “Sail” by Awolnation plays while I set up and the phone rings.

  “Sweet Dreams, this is Jen,” I huff.

  “Morning, sunshine. You sound grumpy today.”

  “Jake, I’m really busy, what do you want?” He has me so confused I feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster.

  “I want to talk to my friend.”

  “I’m busy, I can’t talk right now. I gotta go…”

  “Wait! What time is a good time to call?”

  I take a breath and say, “I can’t talk on the phone while I’m working.”

  “How about I call you when you’re not working?” he asks innocently.

  He’s making this difficult.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. How will I answer the phone if I’m not here?”

  “Give me your cell number.”

  I pause to think about it. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Come on, please?”

  Wow, he’s pulling out the big guns now.

  I can picture a little boy’s pout on his face.

  It’s too early for this.

  Unable to resist him I huff, “Gotta pen?”

  “Yep, ready.” He takes down my number. “What time?”

  “What time what?”

  I feel a headache coming on.

  “What time will you not be working?”

  “Most days I take off between three and nine p.m.”

  “Talk to you later then?”

  “Maybe, gotta go. Bye.” I hang up feeling more confused than ever.

  Later that day, at 3 p.m. on the dot, my cell phone buzzes in my pocket with a number I don’t recognize. I don’t answer. At 4 p.m. it buzzes again and I push ignore. I check for a voicemail and there are no new messages.

  At 4:30 it rings again and I decide to pick up. “Hello?”

  “Whatcha doin?”

  “Who is this?” I’m sure it’s Jake, but I don’t want him to know that.

  “It’s Jake.” It worked. He sounds taken aback that I don’t recognize his voice. I smile a little at this small victory.

  “Oh, hey. Why are you calling me?”

  “I need advice,” he says with a serious tone.

  I take a seat at my kitchen table. “What about?”

  “I met this woman.”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear this.” I really don’t want to be the friend that gives advice about other women. I can’t put myself through that.

  “Wait, I really want to be friends with this woman, but I messed up.”

  I stay silent waiting to see what he says next.

  Is he talking about me?

  “Sorry… Jen, I want us to be friends.”

  “Why?” I don’t get it. He isn’t here anymore.

  Doesn’t he have other friends he can talk to?

  “I got used to seeing you every day, I’m experiencing withdrawal.”

  “Are you sure it’s not the coffee? You’ll get over it.”

  “Come on, you know me. I won’t.”

  This bothers me. “No, I don’t, Jake. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I served you coffee every day.”

  “Well, get to know me. I want to know y
ou.”

  I don’t know what to say and stay silent.

  He changes the subject. “How’s the guitar going? Are you still taking lessons?”

  With a sigh I say, “Yeah, I am. It’s fine. Learned a new song and everything.”

  “Ya know, I play too,” Jake says with a smile in his voice as he reveals something new about himself.

  I perk up. “Really? I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now,” he says with a triumphant tone.

  “Acoustic or electric?” Now I’m interested. This is something we have in common.

  “Both, but I prefer acoustic. I always wanted to be one of those people who could just pick up and play, ya know?”

  He’s quoting me back to me and it makes me smile. “Yes, I know what you mean.” He has me and he knows it.

  “And now I am. So keep practicing, but if that so called teacher of yours isn’t doing a good job, I’m sure I can find you another one.”

  “What do you mean, so called teacher? Jerry is fine and I am playing better.”

  “Just a suggestion,” he says innocently. “I gotta go, but this is my cell number. Save it. Oh, and thanks for the advice.”

  “I didn’t really give you any advice, Jake.”

  “Well, thanks for listening.”

  “K, bye.” I hang up and save the number into my contacts as J.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself. Jim Morrison

  On Tuesday evening, I get a text.

  Can u talk?-J

  Not right now- Me

  An hour later, he texts me again.

  How about now?-J

  What’s up?-Me

  My phone rings. “Hey.” I can hear the smile in my own voice.

  “Hey, so how was your day?” he inquires.

  “Good, I still have to go back and close in a couple of hours.”

  Jake huffs. “I still think you work too many hours.”

  “Maybe. Lately I’ve been really tired. How is work for you? Any new projects in the works?”

  “Been doing some post production, lots of promos and lots of new scripts being pushed at me right now.”