Love Left Behind

by S. H. Kolee

  "You leaving?"

  I nodded excitedly. I had already told Celeste about my date with Jackson tonight and she had made me promise to memorize every detail so I could fill her in on Monday.

  I powered down my computer and grabbed my purse from my desk drawer.

  "Have a great weekend, Celeste."

  "You too," she said with a sly wink. "Remember, I want all the details."

  I laughed as I slung my purse over my shoulder. The subway ride home was quick which was fortunate because I was stuck in a car with no air conditioning. Even the oppressive heat of being underground in a poorly ventilated subway car couldn't dampen my spirits.

  Claire wasn't home when I got to the apartment. She had been up early again this morning and I had told her I was coming to see her show tonight after having dinner with Jackson. She seemed excited and made me promise to go out for drinks with her afterwards. I didn't think Jackson would mind going out for a few drinks so I agreed.

  I had an hour to get ready so I took a leisurely shower. As I let the warm water run over my body, I couldn't help but remember Jackson's hands on me, caressing me in places I had never thought of as erotic. His soft kiss on the back of my knee had sent chills running through my body. I was taut with the anticipation of feeling his lips on me again.

  I turned off the water and got out of the shower before my wayward thoughts made me late. I had texted Jackson earlier today, not knowing how I should dress for dinner. He had replied to dress casually although he wouldn't tell me where we were going. So I slipped on a pair of skintight dark jeans that I knew did wonders for my ass, pairing it with a black halter top and black high heels.

  I took time with my makeup instead of the usual swipe of mascara and lipstick I applied most mornings. Smoky eyes and dark red lips completed the look and I brushed my hair until it was shiny and smooth. I studied myself in the mirror, turning my head from one side to the other.

  Not bad, I thought. With my short stature and curvy figure I wouldn't be gracing any runways, but I was satisfied that I looked my best.

  I checked the clock in the living room since I didn't want to wear a watch with my outfit and saw that it was six-fifteen. I sat down on the couch, nervously tapping my foot. I tried flipping through a magazine, but I just ended up staring at the pages unseeingly. I had given up on the magazine and was going to flick on the television when I heard the front door buzzer. I ran over and pressed the button to speak.

  "Hello?"

  "It's Jackson."

  "Come on up," I replied as I pressed the button to unlock the front door. My stomach was twisting in knots, anticipation and nerves jostling together.

  I opened the apartment door when I heard Jackson bounding up the steps. My insides warmed when I caught sight of him. A part of me had wondered if I had imagined how gorgeous Jackson was. I now realized that my imagination hadn't done him justice.

  He was wearing dark jeans and a grey button-down shirt that was untucked. Even though his clothes weren't form fitting, you could clearly see his defined muscles underneath. His dark hair was tousled and his green eyes looked happy to see me. His wide smile showed off his dimples and I wondered if I would ever get used to them. They were so boyishly charming in his decidedly masculine face.

  "Hi," Jackson said, leaning down to brush my lips with his. He walked into the apartment, seemingly familiar with his surroundings. I reminded myself that he must have been in this apartment many times since he was friends with Claire.

  Jackson grabbed my hand, twirling me around. "You look good enough to eat."

  I laughed at his lascivious look. "Thanks. You look nice too."

  "We've gotta get out of here before I'm tempted to forget about dinner," he said with a wink. "Ready to go?"

  "Yup, let me just get my purse." I grabbed my black clutch that I had laid on the breakfast table as well as my keys. When we got to the sidewalk in front of my building, Jackson held up a hand to hail a cab.

  "We're not walking?"

  "It's not too far away but not close enough to walk." Jackson glanced down at my feet. "Especially with those shoes."

  "Hey, these are comfortable," I said defensively.

  Jackson quirked his mouth. "I'm not complaining. My imagination is already in overdrive with what I want to do to you while you wear nothing but those heels."

  I bit my lip, not knowing what to say. Jackson just grinned, those dimples peeking out at me again.

  Fortunately, a cab stopped in front of us, saving me from having to respond.

  "20th between Broadway and Park," Jackson told the cab driver after we had climbed into the backseat.

  "Now are you going to tell me where we're going to dinner?"

  "Gramercy Tavern. It's one of my favorite restaurants."

  "Wait a second," I said horrified. "Isn't that a fancy restaurant? I'm not dressed for a nice restaurant! You said casual!"

  "Don't worry, it's pretty casual. You look perfect."

  I frowned but I was soon distracted by Jackson's hand holding mine, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the skin between my thumb and forefinger. An area I had never thought of as being sensitized enough to give me chills from his touch.

  By the time we pulled up in front of the restaurant I had forgotten all about dress codes, but Jackson was right. When we walked inside the restaurant, there were people dressed formally but I saw plenty of others dressed like us.

  "Good evening, Mr. Reynard," the maitre d' said as we approached. "It's good to see you."

  "You too, Marcus. I have a reservation for two at seven o'clock."

  "Of course." The maitre d' grabbed two menus and guided us to our table. I followed, nonplussed. Jackson must come here a lot for him to be on a first name basis with the staff.

  I swallowed a gasp when I saw the menu. The only thing offered was a prix fixe menu and it was much more than I was used to spending for dinner.

  I peeked over the menu at Jackson, but he was just nonchalantly looking at his own. He looked up and caught me staring at him.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Nothing. This is just a lot of food," I lied. "Is it a good idea to eat all of this before your show?"

  Jackson smiled. "I could eat a ten course dinner and still be fine for the show. I won't have more than one drink though. I doubt the audience wants to see me slurring through my lines."

  I nodded and looked back at the menu. I suppose if Jackson was okay with paying these prices for the food, then I was okay with eating it.

  Our waiter came over, filling our glasses with water. Jackson looked over at me.

  "What do you want to drink?"

  "I'll take a vodka tonic."

  Jackson looked up at the waiter. "She'll have a vodka tonic. Belvedere. I'll have the 18 year Macallan with a splash of water."

  "You'll have the what?" I asked after the waiter had walked away.

  "It's just a brand of scotch."

  I nodded as if I went to nice restaurants every day where the maitre d' knew you by first name and your date ordered drinks that only fifty-year-old men drank.

  "You order drinks like you're an actual adult."

  Jackson grinned. "I am an actual adult. So are you."

  I laughed. "I know. I just still feel like a kid sometimes."

  "Why do you say that?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe because I'm starting over again in a new city. Back in D.C., it was the opposite. I used to feel ten years older than I actually was. I think it was because my life was mapped out before me and I could see exactly what would happen in the next twenty years. Now I'm not sure what's going to happen in the next twenty minutes."

  "Is that good or bad?" Jackson asked.

  "It's good, I think. Better to figure out what I want now than have a mid-life crisis in twenty years."

  We were interrupted by the waiter who brought our drinks and took our order. The amount of courses we had to choose from was a little daunting, but Jackson assured me that the
portion sizes were small.

  "To being young at heart," Jackson said after the waiter had left, holding his glass up for a toast.

  I clinked my glass with his, laughing. "I think we're a little too young to be making a toast like that. We're not just young at heart. We're young, period."

  Jackson grinned. "You forget, I'm two years your senior. You'd be amazed by the amount of wisdom I've gained in just two years."

  "I'll keep that in mind," I said smiling.

  "So why did you feel like you had your life mapped out for you?" Jackson asked, taking a sip of his drink. "Does it have anything to do with the ex-boyfriend Claire mentioned at Max's?"

  The last thing I expected Jackson to do was bring up Sean. I didn't even think Claire's mention of him last Sunday had registered. Obviously, Jackson assumed that I had meant ex-boyfriend when I had said ex.

  "Kind of," I said, fiddling around with my glass. I looked up at Jackson with a small smile. "We were together a long time and everyone expected us to end up together, including me."

  "So what changed?" Jackson was looking at me intently and it was hard not to squirm under his scrutiny.

  "Me, I guess." I sighed, taking another sip of my vodka tonic. "It's not even that I really changed. I always knew that my ex and I were destined to lead a dull life together. I guess at a certain point I just accepted it. But after a while I realized it wasn't enough."

  "How long were you together?"

  I bit my lip, not wanting to get into this, but Jackson seemed more than a little interested in the topic. "Since we were fifteen."

  Jackson leaned back in his chair with an unreadable expression on his face. "That's a long time."

  I nodded. "It is. But we were more friends than anything else for most of that time. It was comfortable."

  "Did you think you were going to marry him?"

  I tightened my grasp on my glass. "Isn't it bad form to talk about exes during a date?" I asked with a weak laugh.

  Jackson smiled but he looked a little tense. "I'm curious. Is that okay?"

  "It's okay," I replied. "It's just not a topic I love talking about. Sean, my ex, and I were engaged." I swallowed hard. "Actually, I broke off the engagement about a month before the wedding."

  It was hard for me to admit that, especially to Jackson. I didn't want him to think badly of me. As much as I was relieved that I had escaped before making the biggest mistake of my life, I wasn't ignorant to the fact of how much I had hurt someone that I cared about. Sean hadn't deserved me embarrassing him in front of all our family and friends. My mistake had been letting it get to the point of having to cancel a wedding. We should have broken up years ago.

  Jackson's face had darkened and I tensed. I was afraid that his opinion of me had been lowered by my confession.

  "I know how it sounds," I started, wanting to fill the awkward silence. "Trust me, I never thought I would be that girl. It sounds so callous and selfish. But...I just couldn't go through with it."

  Jackson shook his head. "It's not that. The last thing you should do is get married to the wrong person, no matter what the consequences are of calling it off." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I know it sounds crazy but the thought of you engaged to someone else...it doesn't make me feel good."

  I bit my lip, not knowing what to say. I felt my heart squeeze at the words he was saying to me, at the way he was looking at me. The way he was acting didn't feel like a fling.

  "I know we've known each other for less than a week, but I think we have something special here. I guess the thought of you being serious enough with someone else to almost marry him, even if it was before we met, doesn't sit well with me." Jackson gave me a faint smile. "I hope that doesn't make me sound like some crazy possessive guy."

  I shook my head. "No, I understand what you mean. But I...I thought you weren't looking for anything serious."

  Jackson frowned. "What made you think that?"

  I wasn't sure Claire would appreciate me telling Jackson that she had warned me about him so I just shrugged.

  "I don't know. I guess I just assumed we were having fun."

  Jackson's frown grew more pronounced. "Is that what you want? To just have fun?"

  I paused, not knowing how to answer. After the debacle with Sean, I had told myself the last thing I wanted was to get involved with another man. This was supposed to be my time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life without the influence of a man. But when that man was someone like Jackson...I wasn't sure he was someone I could refuse.

  "Well, initially I wasn't looking for anything serious..." I looked up at Jackson, smiling. "Things change, I guess. It's not every day I meet someone who can whip up a mean chicken marsala."

  Jackson's smile in response to my answer was dazzling and I felt a physical ache in my chest. I had a feeling that getting involved with Jackson would be riskier than packing up all my belongings and moving to New York. But it was a risk I was willing to take.

  The mood was lightened as the waiter brought our first courses out. Each course was more delicious than the next. We fell over each other talking, as if we couldn't say enough to each other. There seemed to be so much to learn about Jackson and he seemed to feel the same way about me. He told me about different casting calls he had been on and how he and Nathan met when Nathan had done a short stint as a set designer on a play Jackson had been in. It felt natural to tell Jackson about my life in D.C. although I tried to keep Sean out of the conversation.

  By the time dessert came out, I was feeling flushed with happiness but also uncomfortably full. I felt like I was going to pop.

  "I don't think I can eat another bite," I groaned. "The last time I ate this much was Thanksgiving."

  "Okay," Jackson replied mischievously. "I guess I'll just have to eat your chocolate bread pudding."

  He reached over as if he was going to grab my plate when I had second thoughts.

  "Well..." I said, drawing out the word. "I guess I could make room for dessert. It would be a shame to not even taste it."

  Jackson grinned as he started eating his apple tart.

  "This is really good," he said after his first bite. "You have to try it."

  He scooped up a bite on his fork and reached across the table for me to taste. I opened my mouth and accepted the bite, feeling warmed by the intimacy of the action.

  "Wow, that's good," I said. "I can see why this is your favorite restaurant."

  I took a bite of my bread pudding and the apple tart was instantly forgotten.

  "Oh my God," I said. "You have to try this. It's incredible."

  I reached over with a spoonful of bread pudding for Jackson to taste, mimicking his earlier gesture. Jackson guided my hand with his, taking the bite of bread pudding from the spoon. Instead of releasing my hand as he ate the bite of bread pudding, he kept hold of it, gazing at me. He then smiled and turned my hand over that was still clutching the spoon, softly kissing the center of my palm with an open mouth and tasting me with his tongue.

  He then released my hand and it fell limply onto the table. I felt boneless as I looked at him, his gesture making my lower body tighten.

  "What was that for?" I asked, surprised at how breathless my voice sounded.

  Jackson smiled slowly. "I wanted a taste of the sweetest dessert. You."

  It was a good thing I was sitting; otherwise, I would have melted into a pool of desire.

  "Boy, you sure know how to flatter a girl," I joked, but my voice sounded unsteady. "You must have to beat them off with a stick."

  Jackson wasn't smiling at he gazed at me. "There's only one girl I'm interested in. I have a feeling that's not going to change for a long time. If ever."

  That's when I realized that Jackson would be my undoing.

  Chapter Six

  The theater was already bustling when we arrived even though there was still half an hour left before the start of the show. It was a small venue with only about a hundred seats, but the cozy space
gave it a convivial feeling, as if friends were gathering to spend an evening together. People had brought their own drinks and were sharing bottles of wine. Jackson greeted numerous people as he guided me to a seat in the front of the theater.

  "Go ahead and get ready," I urged as I sat down. "I'm fine. Don't you need to change and get into makeup or something?"

  Jackson smiled. "This isn't exactly a big production. It's more of a 'show up as you are and start acting' type of deal."

  "Either way, I can't wait to see it! When you're a big movie star I can say that I knew you when."

  "If that ever happens, you won't have to say that, because I'm betting you'll be right beside me."

  Jackson leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. "Just come backstage afterwards. Enjoy the show."

  He walked away and I watched his retreating back as he stopped to talk to multiple people. Jackson had a way with words that left me breathless.

  I waited with anticipation, watching people arrive for the show until it was packed to capacity. When the lights darkened signaling the start of the show, it was all I could do to not bounce up and down in my seat in excitement. I couldn't wait to see Jackson onstage.

  Claire came out first and she looked beautiful, the stage lights giving her a luminous quality. Her blonde hair was gleaming and her movements were lithe and graceful. There was a single chair and table on stage and she sat down, facing the audience and speaking directly to us.

  "Before Matthew, I led a pretty boring life. Here in Bankford, Missouri you don't get much excitement. The biggest news around here was getting a multiplex so that we didn't have to drive to the next town to watch a movie. But I was happy. I liked my job at the local diner, my days filled with chatting up customers and slicing pie. Dating the town deputy wasn't too shabby either. Charlie was kind, good-looking and great in the sack. Life was pretty good and I was happy.

  Then Matthew came into town.

  Matthew was a stranger, something we don't get too often in Bankford. I served him coffee and a slice of blueberry pie, not realizing that he would change my life.

  I don't know if the change was for the better or for the worse. Let me show you what happened. Then you can decide."