by Jenna Tyler
Six
I enter my apartment with purpose. I look at the time and see that I have a few hours before I have to be ready so I decide to soak in the tub first. Nothing like a nice hot bath to take away my worries. Not to mention that I smell to high hell.
I get the bath running and go to glance in my closet. Knowing that I don't have anything designer, I might have something that will work. Sifting through my dresses, nothing really says “perfect to make Drew drool”. I frown. Now I wish I were the type of girl who cared a little more about fashion. I'm tempted to run out to a store to get something. I think I just might, but I definitely need to be clean first. A sweaty, stinky mess cannot go shopping for a nice dress.
Plopping myself into the tub, I start thinking of what kind of dress I should get. Low cut in the front? Low cut in the back? Short? Long? The possibilities are endless. I don't want to spend a lot of money, but I really want to make myself irresistible.
The thoughts of this evening are keeping me awake. I'm very tired, but I need to put my best game face on.
After about thirty minutes of soaking, I move over to the shower, and wash my hair and body fairly quickly. I dry off and moisturize my arms and legs; no time for anything else. I get dressed in a decent little casual skirt and top, throw my wet hair up in a dripping bun, grab my purse and keys, and head out to the nearest department store.
Once there, I ask a sales associate where the cocktail attire would be and she points me in the right direction. I start skimming through the racks, seeing nothing that really grabs my attention. Another sales associate, one from this department, politely asks if I need help finding anything. Thank god! “Yes!” I say, exasperated. “I'm in a bit of a hurry. I need a cocktail dress for dinner this evening and I want to look irresistible.”
She grins wide. “I think we can handle that. You have a wonderful figure so it shouldn't be hard to find something amazing.”
She moves quickly through the racks, grabbing dress after dress. Whoa! She's done this before. What a lifesaver! “Follow me to the fitting rooms. These should get you started. I will go and browse again to see if I can locate anything else you might like.”
“Thank you!” I exclaim with sincere gratitude plastered on my face. I quickly start trying dresses on. The first few were homely. Definitely not knockout status.
The girl comes back without any more dresses. She talks loudly over the fitting room door, “How's it going in there?”
“Um. Okay. I already have a few ‘no-ways’.”
She says, “Hand them over and I will get them out of your way. I didn't see any more dresses out there that would suit your needs. My name is Sarah. Just yell for me if you need me.
I crack open the door to hand her the dresses and her eyes widen. I look down at the dress I have on. “What?” I ask. She is still staring. “Does it look horrible?” She opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it quickly, no words coming out. “Sarah?”
Her eyes dart to mine. “That dress looks amazing on you,” she whispers.
I flush. “Really?” She nods her head, excitedly. I hadn't even looked at myself in the mirror in this dress yet. I turn to look.
It's a body-hugging, pewter gray, shimmery tank dress. Just low-cut enough to tease, but not too obscene to be trashy. Classy, but definitely sexy. The back is cut just below the bra line, and the length is about six inches above the knee. I really look quite nice in it, I must say.
I decide to get this one since Sarah's reaction was so great, hoping it will do the job it was intended for. I will still need a wrap, shoes, and clutch to match. Ugh. This is getting pricey. Am I going to need overtime before my new job even begins?
Sarah helps me pick out the other items needed. What a gem she is. Hopefully, I can come back to have her help me again, if ever the need arises.
I get home and hang up the dress on the closet door frame. It really is a pretty dress. I believe I've sweated again while shopping. I check the time and see that I was only gone about an hour so I still have plenty of time to shower again. What a wake-up Drew gave me. I was nearly ready to pass out when he dropped me off and now I'm buzzing around like a bee, totally energized.
At around six thirty, my cell phone rings. I see it's my daughter, Charlie. “Hello, my darling.”
“Hi, Mom. What are you doing?” Do I tell her I'm going on a date? Sure, why not.
“I'm actually getting ready for a date. How about you? How are things? How's school going?”
“MOM!” I hear loudly from the other end. So loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear. I hope that's excitement. “You're going on a date? That's so exciting. Who is he? What does he look like?” I giggle.
She bombards me with more questions. I tell her what I know about him and about our day so far. “I promise I will send you a picture that we took of ourselves today. It might not be tonight, but definitely by tomorrow. Now tell me about you.”
She rattles off about her professors and the parties she's been going to. Ah, to be that age again. “Make sure you stay safe, sweetie. I've got to finish getting ready because he will be here any minute.”
“Okay, Mom. Have fun and you be safe, too. I want to hear all about tonight the next time we talk. Don't forget to send that picture, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”
“Make good choices. Love you, too. ‘Bye, Mom.” One of us usually says “make good choices” when we know the other is going out or doing something out of the norm. It's a line from a movie we both love and it’s good advice. It makes us smile every time.
“‘Bye.”
As soon as we hang up, my phone vibrates. It's a text message from an unknown number. I quickly look at the message.
Drew: I am sending my driver up to get you. I'll be waiting in the car downstairs.
Drew. How the hell did he get my number? Stalker! I quickly text back.
Me: Give me five more minutes plz
I rush into the bathroom and finish applying my mascara and eyeliner, throw on some lipstick, and take a step back to check myself out. Thank goodness I had already done my hair. I make an adjustment to the cleavage and check the back to make sure my dress isn't stuck inside my panties. I smile and shake my head. I throw my lipstick into the clutch, along with a hair tie, bobby pin, license, credit card, and gum. That should be good enough for tonight.
Just as I'm draping my wrap around my shoulders, the doorbell rings. A man in a nice, black suit with a black dress shirt and a tie to match says, “Good evening, ma'am. I'm here to escort you downstairs to Mr. Chambers. He awaits your company.” Oh, so formal.
“Yes. Thank you.” I finish with my wrap, grab my clutch and my keys, and head out the door, locking it behind me. The man offers his elbow to me and I accept it so I don't fall and bust my ass.
As we walk out the front door of the lobby, the back door to a limousine opens and he emerges. The sight of him makes me weak in the knees. He is also in a very nice suit and tie. His suit is gray with a slight sheen to it and he has on a white shirt with a black tie. Devastatingly handsome.
His eyes brighten and widen as he looks me up and down. My escort takes my hand from his elbow and places it into Drew's outstretched hand. He bends at the waist to kiss my hand. The electricity and pull is ever so present. The fire ignites deep, deep inside of me.
He stands upright and says, “You look absolutely stunning, as always, Ms. Michaels.”
I manage a smile and reply, “You look quite dapper yourself, Mr. Chambers.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me in close, gently plants a kiss on my lips, and then turns to lead me into the car.
I must ask him over dinner about his PDA and his stalking tendencies. I'm sure he has a reputation to uphold in the public eye. We don't say much on the way to dinner, but the pull between us is there and stronger than ever. Don't lose focus, Bec! We have a lesson to teach. A slight grin moves across my face for a fraction of a second. He doesn't know who he's messing with.
The driver is minding his own business, but I wonder if he can sense the heat between Drew and I.
We arrive at a hotel. A hotel? “What are we doing here?” I murmur.
He smiles. “Eating dinner, of course. Unless you have other ideas?”
I blush. “Uh. Dinner is what I was hoping for.” Just the slightest sexual innuendo from him and I need a fresh pair of panties. Smiling back at him, I try to hide the panic I'm feeling. I do not want to cream myself and embarrass the both of us in public.
The driver gets out and opens our door. Drew exits first, then he offers his hand to help me out of the car. I step out and quickly make sure my dress is where it should be. I don't need to show the restaurant my soaked goods. He takes my hand and places it in his arm and we start into the hotel. I look up at him and he looks happy. Comfortable. Proud? Maybe. I smile and he looks down at me.
“What?” he asks.
“You look happy.”
“That's because I am. I am walking in with the most gorgeous woman on the planet.”
I blush. “Well, I wouldn't go that far,” I mutter.
“Oh I would. I definitely would.”
As we approach the restaurant part of the hotel, the hostess greets us as soon as we walk in. “Good evening, Mr. Chambers. Your regular table is waiting. Right this way.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“Your waiter will be with you momentarily, sir,” says the hostess.
He pulls out my chair for me, and then sits across from me. “Thank you,” he says again to the hostess.
“Your regular table?” I ask. “Do you eat here often?”
He looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes. Most nights, actually. I don't cook and usually have business dinners here.”
“Must be nice. Not to cook, I mean,” I murmur, a hint of jealousy in my voice. I've had to get used to cooking for just myself and I'm not a great cook to start with. I can handle basic things, but I'm no Rachael Ray.
“It's not preferred, but a man needs to eat. When I am home, I have someone who will cook for me if I ask them to,” he states, casually. Hmmm. A mystery woman? A booty call? Inquiring minds want to know.
“Someone?” I ask, with a slight edge to my voice. Why not just blurt it out, Bec? I didn't mean for it to sound like that.
He smirks at me. “My house manager. She takes care of everything in the house. Laundry, cleaning, and sometimes cooking.” Oh. That makes me relax a little. He senses my relief and chuckles. “Jealous already, Rebecca?”
That catches me off guard, but I recover quickly. “Just want to know who my competition is,” I say smartly, a proud look plastered on my face. He grins just before the waiter walks up to our table. Drew orders some wine for both of us without asking me what I want. When should I tell him that I'm not much of a wine person? I snicker internally.
The waiter scoots off to fetch our wine and I look at Drew with a smirk. “What are you smirking at me for?” he asks.
“I'm not a big wine person,” I say to him. He mouth drops open, slightly.
“You should've said something. I will get you whatever you want.”
He starts to signal the waiter back over, but I stop him. “I will try it first. If I don't like it, I will order something else. Okay?”
He smiles and relaxes. “Okay. Good.”
“Can I ask you something kind of personal?” I ask.
“Sure. Anything,” he responds.
I look down, nervously, acting like I'm fixing something on my dress. I glance back up at him. “With you being in the public eye and Portland's 'most eligible bachelor', why did you show me affection out in public? Surely you don't do that often, if ever.” He frowns just a little. A small crease forms between his eyebrows.
“Actually, no. I've never done that before. But I no longer care about that, at least not when it's with you. I want you and everyone else to know that I want you to be mine and I want to be yours.” My eyes blinking in disbelief, he continues, “In my mind, I am off the market and no longer a bachelor. I will chase you until you agree to be with me. Exclusively.”
Smiling, he reaches over and gently lifts my chin up to close my mouth. Dang it. Open-mouthed again. “Ah. Okay. I know this thing between us is powerful, but are you sure you are ready so soon for that kind of commitment. No more being single? No more women? Tied down? Ball and chain? You are ready for all of that?”
A grin as wide as the Mississippi River flashes on his face. “Absolutely. I've been ready. I just hadn't met you yet.” Oh my. My heart melts. That sounds like a line, though…albeit a very good line. What is he trying to do to me? Oh, wait. The game. I have to stay strong for the game. No panty-dropping tonight, mister!
“And you are willing to wait until I am ready? You're going to stay monogamous to me even before I'm ready?”
“Of course!” he exclaims. “I want to be with you and only you. There is no one else for me as far as I'm concerned.” Wow. How can he make that kind of commitment when he hardly knows me? What if we are incompatible in bed? This thought saddens me.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I just don't see how you can make that kind of commitment when you hardly know anything about me or how we would be together.”
“It's quite simple, Rebecca. This feeling, this electricity, this pull, means something. We are meant to be. I've never felt anything like it and you've never felt anything like it. Everything else will fall into place as it should.”
Having been married before, I don't see it exactly as he does. Although, I think he is right about our electricity. It is something out of this world. It's an amazing feeling.
“I need to think about this. You've sprung this on me like you did the soul mate thing earlier. It's a lot to take in.”
“I understand. And I will wait, for however long it takes. I want you to be mine.” He gives a shy smile. Oh, dear. That word. That beautiful face of his. He makes me melt in so many ways.
“You sure know how to keep a girl on her toes, Mr. Chambers.” I give him a wry smile. “And speaking of keeping a girl on her toes, how the hell did you get my cell phone number?”
Drew gives me a half smile. “It's all about who you know, and I know a lot of people.” I glare at him.
The waiter appears with the wine. He offers Drew a look at the bottle and he nods in approval. The waiter pours our glasses and then sets the bottle in an ice bucket next to the table. He asks Drew if we are ready to order. Shit! I haven't really looked at the menu yet. I will just get a steak or something. I quickly look at the menu and see filet mignon. Yes, that looks good. I look up at Drew to let him know that I'm ready, giving him a slight nod.
“Ma'am?” the waiter asks.
“I will have the filet mignon, medium.”
“And for you Mr. Chambers?” the waiter asks.
“The same,” Drew says.
“Very well, sir.” As the waiter walks away, I smirk at Drew and he grins back at me.
“Is there a reason why you always order what I order, or are you just being a pain?” I say and he laughs. God, that is such a cute laugh. It's almost a giggle.
“Just keeping you on your toes, Ms. Michaels.” I smile widely at him.
I sip my wine. It’s not horrible, but it's not worth another glass, either.
Suddenly, I hear my phone go off in my bag. A text. “I’m sorry. Give me a sec.” I take a peek at who it is. “It's my daughter,” I say. “She's wondering how the date is going.” He raises his eyebrows. “She called right before I left and I told her about you. Now she is interrupting on purpose. Gotta love teenagers.”
“And what did you tell her about me?” He raises his glass to take a sip.
“Not a whole lot since we've only just met recently. I just told her about our day.” I try to act nonchalant but, deep down, I'm a little nervous. His direct approach to everything is quite unnerving. Maybe that's how he's done so well in business.
“And how is our date going?”
he asks, staring at me and tracing his finger lightly up and down his wine glass. Oh, what I would give to be that wine glass. Watching his finger is distracting.
“Umm…well, I think. Except for the whole commitment thing that was sprung on me and the whole soul mate thing...,” I tease.
I pause and he blanches, but interrupts me before I begin again, “I don't want to scare you away. That is not what I want at all. I just know, deep down, that we are meant to be.”
“I understand how you feel. It seems quite undeniable...this thing between us. It's just a little much, a little fast. I want to take it slow…for now.” I hope he doesn't run because I want to take it slow. Men in my past have just left if they didn't get what they wanted, when they wanted it.
“Your wish is my command, Rebecca. A courtship it shall be.”
Seven
I am still reeling from his words. A courtship? I don't think I've ever been “courted” before. It sounds so old-fashioned.
We've finished our meal and are sitting there, enjoying our cocktails. Him — another glass of wine. Me — a lemon martini. He's so confident in his actions and his words. I wish I was more like that. I'm fairly confident, but I have my moments of self-doubt. I thought that, as you got older, you were supposed to come into your own. But I still feel the same as I did in high school. Well, maybe not quite that bad.
“What is it?” Drew asks, bringing me back to the here and now.
“I’m sorry. What?”
A slight chuckle escapes him. “You seemed lost in thought. Is something wrong?”
“Oh. No. Just thinking about…things.”
“Oh?” he questions, wanting more information.
“Just observations. How confident you seem in everything, and how I wish I were as confident as you.” I look down, fidgeting with my dress. He leans across the table and offers his hand to me. I take it and look into his eyes. Those beautiful, oceanic eyes. Doubt seems to flow out of my body at his touch. He raises my hand to his lips and gives it a soft kiss.