by Jesse Jordan
“You have a deal, Cora. What time you need me?”
I park in front of the daycare and get out, inwardly fist pumping. “Think you can be at my place by six?”
“Okay. I'll bring over pizza for Bella too. See you then! Thanks, Cora!”
I feel like I'm all breezy and drafty, wearing my best blouse and skirt... actually, my only date-worthy skirt. My hair feels strange not pulled up into the high ponytail that I normally wear for work, but Bella and Tran both said I looked pretty as I was giving Bella a kiss goodnight, so I guess I'm okay. It doesn't mean that I'm all that comfortable in a skirt again. I've always been a pants sort of girl.
“How much further?” I ask as I check my watch. Oh shit, I'm wearing my normal watch, that's way too sporty for this blouse and skirt... ah well, I guess it'll just have to be my personal quirk.
“Just about a mile. I'm gonna turn up ahead onto the PCH, it's only a few blocks after that,” the taxi driver says. “Say, you going on a date or something? You look like a woman getting ready for a first date.”
“Something like that. By the way, you're sure it's okay that I don't pay?”
The driver waves it off. “Yeah, I already got a credit card number to charge this to. Whoever's springing this for you, they're taking care of the whole deal. I get a fare like this one, maybe two times a month, and I love it every time. Makes me want to get into the limo wing of the company and not just the cabs. Prepaid, reserved runs? Too sweet.”
“I work producing most of the time. I'm doing some projects for Gashouse. You like rock?” I ask, and the taxi driver nods. “Oh, what?”
“My uncle introduced me to classic rock. Late nights, in-between fares, I'll put in lots of that old-school stuff, from The Doors up through about the mid-eighties. You work with anyone famous?” the driver asks as we turn right, and I see that we're on the PCH.
“Not yet, but we'll see. Thanks for the ride,” I reply as he pulls up in front of Zimzala. “Where do you want me to sign?”
He shows me the receipt, and I tack on a decent enough tip.
Nobody's waiting for me outside the restaurant, which is actually part of a hotel, so I go inside, looking for the maitre d’. “May I help you, miss?”
“Uh, yeah,” I tell him, trying to look into the restaurant. It's dark though, with that sort of low, intimate lighting that makes every table look kind of isolated just through the use of shadows. What happened to the bright California décor that I saw on the website? Maybe it's just a daytime thing. “I'm supposed to be meeting someone here? My name's Cora Clearwater.”
Even as I say it, I'm worried that I'll be kicked out, that somehow the maître d’ is going to know this is not my usual type of place. So, I do my best to square my shoulders and look him in the eye, letting him know that yes, I do belong here.
I shouldn't have worried. This is Los Angeles after all. “Of course, Miss Clearwater, if you'll follow me,” the maitre d’ says. I follow him through the dining room, and up a set of stairs to a second-floor patio dining area, lit with strings of lights throughout. It makes the upper deck look both festive and starlit at the same time. The low casual tables have island-style padded chairs and lounges, while the taller tables have chairs made of bamboo and metal.
I'm led to a corner table where I see Rocky before he sees me. He's facing the ocean, looking over the low railing towards the crashing waves that are maybe about a hundred yards away. “Sir, your dinner guest.”
Rocky turns and his face breaks out in the same heart-stopping grin that I've dreamed about, faltering for a moment when he sees me. Standing up, he reaches and takes my hand. “Cora. I knew you said yes, but I was still worried you wouldn't come. My God. Have you always looked this beautiful?”
I feel my face go hot, and I look down, trying not to pose for him. “I... I never thought I'd hear you say I looked pretty. What happened?”
Rocky shakes his head and guides me over to one of the seats next to him. “I guess there's been a lot of reasons. The main one was that I've been thinking a lot about the way you and I have been so close for such a long time. A lot of people have been saying that we have a vibe that is more than just friendly. I guess that I wanted to celebrate the closeness that we have, whatever it happens to be. I apologize about Martha being so obtuse with the whole thing. Once I made the decision this morning, I kinda asked her to play it mysteriously. I was a little worried that if you knew I was asking you out to dinner, that you'd say no.”
“Why would I say no?” I ask, taking a closer look at Rocky. He's pulled his long hair back into a kind of half ponytail. He's dressed impressively, too. He's not in a full suit, but he's wearing a black silk shirt with a buttoned mandarin collar, silver buttons, and a sports jacket that compliments it all. If he were wearing jeans with it instead of the black slacks he's got on or had a different haircut he'd look a little bit Johnny Cash country, but on Rocky, it's pure rock n' roll. “Seriously, why would I say no?”
“I don't know,” Rocky finally says, grinning. “I guess... well, I knew you were smart, you'd have made a guess. But we've been friends for so long, to be asked out for dinner... that could get weird.”
I shrug, giving Rocky a smile. “Can I let you in on a secret, Rock? I've wanted you to ask me on a date for a while now. So, let's just relax and enjoy, see where this evening takes us. Regardless of what happens, I plan on being at least your friend after this.”
I can see the relief wash over Rocky's face, and he reaches over, taking my hand. We order drinks, and while we're waiting, Rocky leans back, half turning so that he can look at me more carefully. “You know, the past few weeks, it's kind of felt a little like the old days. When I walked in that first day and I saw you behind the board, I nearly had a heart attack.”
“I know, and if I live to a hundred I'm not going to forget that look on your face when you saw me,” I reply, half turning as well. I bring my knee up to rest it on the cushion between us, and I am very aware of the amount of thigh that I'm showing, but at the same time I like it. I like the way Rocky's eyes appreciate my morning workouts. “You know, after high school, I kinda wondered for a while if we'd ever see each other again. You got pulled away on some of those concert dates, and then I got caught up in school. A tale as old as time, as they say.”
Rocky chuckles. “Yeah.... and I'll be honest, I stopped reaching out after some of the scandals started hitting. I just don't know what's the cause of it. I'm not an angel, but the way the vultures make me out, I'm a one man Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“Come on Rock, I know that fame can change people, and five years can change people. But I've watched over the past few weeks, you're still the same guy who took me to the prom in the spring of our senior year.”
“Yeah well, I hope not totally the same,” Rocky says, his eyes sparkling. “Hopefully my being on the road so much has opened my eyes to some things at least. Tell me, if you don't mind, what was it like going to college?”
“A lot like high school, actually,” I tell him with a laugh. “I changed programs a little after... well, I changed to a two-year program when I decided I couldn't wait any longer. So, I missed some of the core classes that they make all the four-year kids go through. And being in a two-year program, most of the people I was working with were all involved in the same areas. Some of them went into working with the big studios, a couple moved to new places, but a lot of them went right into the same area that I'm working now, being board monkeys and interns.”
“Glad I didn't have to do interning,” Rocky chuckles. “I've seen how Martha treats any interns that come around her. You should have seen how she treated the guy who was her intern when we were doing stuff over at Oceanside Recording Studios. That poor kid had a nervous tic by the time we went on tour to promote Slam the Floor.”
“True, I got my fair share of harassment too,” I admit, “but then again, I've never had to sleep in a van with my bandmates on the way to SXSW.”
Rocky laughs. “You kn
ow, that one actually saved me one of the biggest potential scandals that someone's tried to pin on me? The girl who tried to claim I took her to my hotel room looked like a fool when it was revealed that the band slept in the back of the van. Although that kinda sucked for Joey, there’s a whole segment of the fans that are more into him than me. Which I totally don't mind.”
“Really? I figured even though you joked about not wanting the groupies that you'd at least enjoy the attention a little,” I tease, before realizing that talking about my date's previous sex life probably isn't the best way to do things. “Sorry.”
“It's okay,” Rocky waves off, smirking. “You're more right than you know. For the past five years, my life's been touring, trying to make records and get attention, and not a lot else.”
Dinner comes, fish tacos that are absolutely delicious. The soft corn tortillas are obviously handmade, the crema having just a little hint of spice to offset the rich, fatty fish, which is crunchy and crispy, fried just enough to add texture to the whole thing. “This is great,” I mumble around a mouthful of food. “My God.”
“PB&J kinda pales, doesn't it?” Rocky jokes, and I nod. “Yeah, I'm going to have to recall this next week when I'm sucking down nothing but protein shakes. Or maybe Sunday when I hit the gym.”
“That's paid benefits, the gym I mean,” I compliment him, and Rocky blushes. “What? Come on Rocky, it may have taken me quite a few years to work up the guts to say so, but you're a good looking guy. I know that you don't focus just on your looks, but you've always known image helps for you.”
“Thanks,” Rocky finally says. “I kinda feel like an idiot though. Until tonight, seeing you in that blouse and skirt... I always knew in the back of my mind you were pretty, lots of people would even say it. But I feel like I've been blind because you're more than just pretty. You literally stunned me when the maitre d’ announced you.”
It's my turn to blush, and I reach over, taking Rocky's hand. “Thanks, Rocky. Hey, can I ask you something? Something just based on talking with Ian and Joey the past few weeks?”
“You can always ask me anything you want, Cora. You... I trust you,” Rocky says, and I feel a twist in my chest, looking at the expression in his eyes. He's an open book to me, and yet... I'm hiding Bella from him. Well, maybe that can change.
“Thank you,” I tell him, smiling, “and I promise to not betray that trust. But my question was... well, have your dreams changed since we were kids?”
Rocky thinks, then shrugs. “I don't know if changed is the word to use, or maybe just matured. I still want to make great music. I still want to be a rock singer. I still want to do a sellout concert over at the Rose Bowl. But I want more now, too.”
“Oh? Bentleys and a mansion in the hills? Or maybe a sailboat down in Cabo?” I joke, and Rocky laughs. “I didn't think so. So, what?”
“I'd like the quiet life to go with the rest of it, people I can trust. I think that's the hardest part about the music industry, or I guess anything in entertainment. I feel like the whole machine is built on the idea of kissing your ass when you're on top or the way up and kicking that same ass when you’re on the way back down. I don't really like that part of things,” Rocky says somberly. “There are days that I kind of miss just jamming in my garage with you, Chris, and Tim. When the music was pure, and the friends were pure too.
We finish our tacos, and I lean back, rubbing my stomach. “I'd say dessert, but I'd like to still be able to fit into my jeans Monday morning. This has been a lot of fun, Rocky.”
“Thanks,” Rocky says, looking out towards the ocean. “Uh... Cora, would you like to take a walk with me? My place isn't far from here, and we can get there most of the way via the beach.”
“Let's start with a walk on the beach, charmer,” I tease, taking his hand again. “But yeah, I think a little walk would be nice. We'll see what happens after that.”
Rocky
We have to walk a block up the road to a light before we can cross the PCH safely and reach the beach, but for me, it's thrilling as Cora lets me put my arm around her shoulder the whole time. She's the perfect height too in the flats she's wearing, my arm just rests like it's always meant to go around her. Looking back, she's almost always been the perfect height for me, once my growth spurt hit right around the same time I told her I wanted to be a rock singer.
There are a few other people on the sidewalk, but overall, we have privacy as we cross the street and reach the beach access. I'm wearing boots that are not meant for sand, but they are tall enough that I won’t be scrubbing grit from between my toes.
“By the way,” I mention as we reach the sand, “I really like your hair tonight. The day to day ponytail works for you, but tonight… Well, maybe I sound like a broken record, I feel like I've said it at least a dozen times, but you look amazing.”
“Every girl likes compliments,” Cora jokes, putting her left arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. “Although I think we're going to have to make a rule. Either you're doing ponytails, or I am. We're not allowed to go on dates with both of us wearing them simultaneously. It's a good look for you, by the way.”
“I've always wondered,” I muse, tucking the part that Martha insisted I leave free back behind my ear, “I mean, I get it. Rock is supposed to be about being rebels. But, if everyone's being a rebel, am I really being a rebel anymore with the long hair?”
“True... but Joey's got the short hair covered, and Ian looks like he's wearing a mop on his head half the time. Does he ever brush his hair?”
“Every other Tuesday, when he can remember to,” I joke, causing Cora to laugh. Has she always had such a musical, pretty laugh? I guess so. “I promise you this though. No pigtails for me, that's a look I'll never try.”
“And no Mohawks,” Cora admonishes me. “A shorter cut I can see, maybe something a little shaggy, but if you try to go full punk, or fully shaved, I'm going to have to kick you in the shin.”
“Note to self, buy motorcycle boots before getting a haircut,” I joke, and Cora laughs again. We make our way through the sand, and I'm more and more conscious of Cora's body pressed against mine. How could I have overlooked someone so beautiful for all those years? I guess I really was stupid back in high school. “Cora?”
“Hmmm, Rocky?” she asks, and I stop, looking at her in the moonlight that's streaming from the sky and reflecting off the Pacific. “What is it?”
I look into her eyes, and I lean down, touching foreheads with her. “I've spent all night thinking about how crazy I've been to overlook you. Tell me, when you let me take you to the prom, was that really as my friend? Did you just go with me because we were buddies?”
Cora smiles, shaking her head slightly, our foreheads rubbing together. The rubbing is as intimate as a hug really, and we're so close that I can actually feel the pulse of her breath on my cheek when she talks. “No. You don't know how much you pissed me off not treating me as a date back then. In fact...”
Cora steps back for balance before she reaches up and taps my shin lightly with her foot, smiling. “There. Your first and only warning. Now, don't overlook me again when you ask me out on dates, even if you do have an audience waiting for you.”
I laugh, putting my hands on Cora's waist, pulling her closer, letting my instincts take over. She comes effortlessly, and the feeling of her pressed against me is warm, close, and amazingly sexy. “Cora, I do believe that I want to kiss you.”
“Hmm... I think that would be nice,” she teases, putting her arms around my neck. She lifts her chin, and I bring my lips to hers. We're hesitant at first. I mean, this is Cora, my best friend in my arms and I'm kissing her, but it grows deeper, our arms tightening as a connection is made. There's a reality about Cora that is different from any other person in my life and I realize, tasting her sweet lips and feeling her body pressed against mine, that I've really wanted her for years.
Maybe that's why all the other girlfriends didn't work out. Maybe, what I was really look
ing for was the girl that was there all along. I reach out with my tongue, and Cora opens up, her tongue caressing mine as she pulls my head down deeper into our kiss, stepping back only when we both need to breathe, our hearts pounding in our chest. My entire body is buzzing, and my pants are definitely about three sizes too tight right now. “Wow.”
“Wow is right,” Cora whispers, smiling. “Rocky Blake, you are one amazing kisser.”
“Look who's talking. That is the best, and I am being totally serious, the best kiss I've ever had. Where'd you learn how to do that?” I ask, and Cora smiles. “What?”
“Nothing,” Cora says, taking my hand. “Just... like I said earlier, a girl likes to get compliments. And while it's nice to hear you and the guys compliment my work, hearing things like that from you is nicer, in their own way.”
We walk along the sand some more, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing on the sand in the moonlight until I see the lifeguard tower that I use as the landmark when I've gone running along the beach with Joey, and I stop. “Cora, I know that this seems like a rush, and maybe cheesy or inappropriate... but would you still like to join me at my apartment for a nightcap?”
“What time is it?” Cora asks, stopping and pulling her phone out of her purse, checking the time. “Hmmm.... nine thirty. Okay, Rock. But Rocky... I'm not staying the night. I need to leave in time to get back to my place by midnight.”
I laugh, taking her hand. “Come on, Cinderella, let's see if we can still enjoy the rest of this fairy tale then before that damn carriage I saw earlier in front of my apartment turns back into a pumpkin.”