He was stuck with a yellow paisley shirt he had no clue where it came from or the only other dress shirt he owned.
Jesse shoved the navy bandana in the back of his pocket and rushed to the restaurant without waving goodbye to Genesis. She wouldn’t have cared as she was drowsily tuned into a binge-worthy series. His eyes searched the room. Low dimly-lit chandeliers over each ivory cloth-covered table with their elite crowd seated around them. He swallowed, realizing immediately he didn’t fit in, and probably never would. It was too uptight for his liking, and far out of his price range. Maybe he set the bar too high, but Damien wasn’t the kind of guy to head out for all-you-can-eat wings. Thankfully, Collette was nowhere in sight, so he bypassed the servers and took an available stool at the bar.
“And what would you fancy?” the bartender asked. Jesse looked up at him, tempted by the labels and unique geometric shaped bottles behind him.
“A ginger ale, I work tomorrow.” It was true; he had to be out first thing at the crack of dawn. If he had half a brain, he would have postponed this date to a time he could be available, but he wasn’t using his brain. His chest was beating rapidly again, in anticipation for this make it or break it moment. The condensation built around the drink, he held the frosty glass to his lips and gasped.
Collette tottered inside in stiletto heels not appropriate for the frosty weather—heels that made her legs go on for days—and that dress! Was it a dress? Unzipping her jacket, she hung it on the peg as if she had a million times, like the elegance of this establishment didn’t faze her. She wore a tight black skirt with a lacy top—like it was one piece but it was a mirage for his hungry eyes. Her blonde hair was curled and swept to the side, exposing the left side of her neck.
Freckles, cute.
This was not the same fussy woman who would tie her hair in a scrunchie during tax season.
He couldn’t hear the conversation between Collette and the waiter from where he sat, but the waiter managed to find a table for her. What were the odds? She sat down, waiting patiently. Wow. If it didn’t feel real before, it did in that moment. He couldn’t believe his eyes. She came for Mr. Wright, and not in jeans and a sweatshirt, but the whole nine yards.
There was no way Jesse could walk over now. The new haircut wasn’t going to fool anybody. He could retreat to his original plan, and prove his point from a distance where she wouldn’t toss her shoe at him or beat him mercilessly with her purse. It wouldn’t be beneath her to have pepper spray and other dangerous items stowed in there.
A few minutes passed and she placed her phone on the table, peeking at her messages periodically.
A waitress passed by, wafting a steak platter and his mouth watered. The dish was lowered to another table, and his eyes fell onto Bryson Duong. He was dressed in a classic gray lawyer suit, with his short hair gelled back like a real square. His narrow tie was loosened, which was a shame. Jesse figured he wore them too tight, because he acted like his brain was losing circulation.
Who searches for another woman, when they have Collette?
Across from him, nibbling on a salad was who he presumed to be Gabrielle. She had blonde hair too, but it had to have been dyed. Her roots were showing in the back of her waist-length beach waves. She wore a sparkly dress shorter than anything Genesis owned and more open than a late-night convenience store. It wouldn’t take an expert to figure out why Bryson was attracted to her. Gabe-Evil was a good name for her, since she looked as sinful as the devil.
The sight of them flirting hurt Jesse’s eyes so he turned to his drink.
Nope, he peeked at Bryson again. From his vantage point, Bryson could stare at both girls, which he was. His dark eyes rolled over Collette with such desire it made the blood coursing through Jesse’s veins boil. He stood like he was going to walk over and greet his ex.
Worse, that bandana was burning a hole in Jesse’s pocket.
Be Damien for one night.
Bryson’s chair creaked. Collette lifted her head about to search the room. Luckily, Jesse dashed over for the rescue, his large body blocking Bryson at his table. He slipped out the bandana and placed it on her phone.
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t play fair,” he responded hastily, regretting how cheesy the words oozed out, but she soaked in every syllable., “Damien,” he held out an open palm for a handshake, yet she pinched his fingertips and curled her fingers more elegantly. Oh yeah, he could kiss her knuckles, that would be gentlemanly. His thumb brushed over the soft skin—too soft. She had a wholesale sized pump bottle of coconut lotion on her desk at work she used frequently. The motion tickled her wrist and she pulled her hand back before he could bring it to his lips. “Smells pretty.”
Ugh! Smells pretty? Had he no game?
“Thank you.” Collette yammered about the lotion for two minutes until her nerves caught up to her. She was visibly nervous, brushing her bangs away from her face frequently. “I’m...”
“Absolutely divine.” Yes, that’s something a fancy-schmancy Damien would say, so he went ahead and said it. Collette bit her lip, giving him a sense of relief.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked. The question took him by surprise.
“Never. Are you?”
She smiled, bashfully fluttering her lashes. “I’m glad I was right about you. Your letter couldn’t have come at a better time. Do you write poetry on the side?”
“Songs.”
“I always wanted to have the guts to write songs, but I draw a blank page. I just sit there at the piano, give up, and then play someone else’s piece.”
Jesse leaned forward cheekily, “Perhaps all you need is some inspiration.”
“What inspires you?”
“You,” he teased, and her cheeks flushed, admitting she fell for that one too easily.
“Love songs, huh. The best I can come up with is a short melody, but it’s a string of pretty sounding notes. Honestly, I haven’t tried anything new in a while, especially in the dating department. I’m embarrassing myself.” Her hand shook, knocking her glass, but Jesse reached over and caught it in time, preventing a spill. “Thanks. You’re... wow. You’re here. You are real. I was concerned there for a moment you didn’t exist and this was all a joke.”
“A joke?” Jesse grinned, somewhat satisfied. Did she not recognize him after working together all these years? All it took was some grooming and a nice shirt. Perhaps it was worth the haircut. He scratched his head, feeling the chill of the front door opening and closing. His scalp was itchy too and his glasses were heavier than he remembered, or was it his conscience weighing him down?
“No, not you.” Collette bit her lip. “I work with this guy, Jesse. He’s the one you gave the flowers to. You know very burly, hairy, scary looking guy. He’s always teasing me in one way or another. One time I thought he finally remembered to keep the toilet seat at work down... nope, he hid ketchup packets in between. Yeah you guessed it. Splat! Ugh.”
Huh, Jesse thought. Less than five minutes in their date and she said the word ‘toilet.’
“He gave me a bottle of ‘chill pills’ for Christmas. That’s the type of jerk we’re talking about here. Well... not a jerk, that’s mean. He can be sweet.”
“Should I be jealous?” Jesse said, taking a fresh focaccia bun and dipping it into the balsamic vinaigrette, then ripping a piece off for her.
“Basically, he has the maturity level of a twelve-year-old but that’s what I love about him.” Jesse choked on the bread. Did he hear her right? “Not love like... he’s funny, lightens up the tension around the office. My boss’ wife is a real pain in the behind. As much as I love working with another lady, I can’t stand her.”
“Really?” Jesse’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You don’t like So—” Damien hasn’t met Sophia, “You don’t like her so much. Hmm, interesting. However, I don’t feel convinced you don’t have an undeniable attraction towards this Jesse guy. I’ll bet he cleans up nice.”
Collette
broke into laughter, shaking the water in her hand.
“I don’t. I mean, I’m not... we’re just friends, somewhat close I suppose.” Oh, so she considered them close friends, this was news to him, “Or we are now. I don’t think he would remember me from before.”
“Before? Before what?” He scratched his head, his bald head. This would take some getting used to. He could’ve worn a hat instead, but it was too late for that now. Tonight, Collette was full of surprises.
“We went to school together. He was a couple years ahead of me—popular. To be fair, I wasn’t terribly social. I was more the type to focus on my grades, hanging out in the library... away from the crowds. From what I gather, he was the class clown. He had a vibrant energy about him when he would strut down those halls. I was invisible.”
Jesse gulped, hurt by the realization that back in that day she was invisible. He had no recollection of them meeting until their first day at work together. He figured she grew up elsewhere or was homeschooled, being so book smart.
“Surely you weren’t invisible. How could he ignore a woman as cunning as you? What if he was...” Yet he hadn’t a clue what she was like back then.
“He refers to me as a young lady, like it’s a significant age gap and I’m the child. He’s the one who acts like it. It is two years, not a decade.”
Same age as Jaxson.
“You age well,” Jesse snapped defensively, “As in... you have smooth features and you’re... freakishly cute. Like adorable and... I’m going to shut up now.” He pressed his lips together sensing his cheeks flush with heat. Thank goodness Damien was only out for one night; that was not classy. This was all pretend. This wasn’t actually a real date.
“Thank you.” Collette bashfully dipped her piece of focaccia in the vinaigrette bowl. “I suppose it’s more encouraging to look younger than act older.”
He smirked at her, because she was both, but he kept those words to himself.
“Honestly, I don’t know how to act. I love my parents, but we want different things, you know? Like, if I wasn’t their daughter and if I had the courage, I could date whoever without worrying about them secretly judging my tastes. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be an example, and I see how they look at my sister and... I owe them. They paid for my schooling, my car, my living... they’ve always been there for me, always helping me make the right decisions. But... what if they’re wrong?” She chugged down her water. “Do you have a sister?”
“A younger brother.”
“Have your parents approved of his dating choices?”
“I do. We make our own choices. We’re the ones marrying them.”
“But what about your mom?”
Jesse grasped his knee under the table, squeezing it to prevent a rude outburst. Collette must have clued into her mishap, she glanced over his shoulder, and did a double-take. He didn’t care to check because he already knew she locked eyes with her ex, he could feel it.
Their waiter came by the table and they gave their requests. She ordered an appetizer, suddenly not as hungry as he’d expected her to be. Then again, he had a mutant metabolism that allowed him to eat a whole cow in one sitting without gaining an unwanted pound. “And to drink for you?” the waiter asked turning to Jesse.
“Water is fine, I work tomorrow.”
“Work? Where do you...”
His eyes widened, he had to make something up quick... or tell the truth in his twisted way. What was a ritzier way of saying he was a truck driver, something that said he could afford going to establishments like this on a regular basis, not that his idea of an ideal date would be a night in, ordering a pizza. If he were to go on a pizza date with Collette, he would prefer she made the pizza. From the slices he’s nabbed in the past, there is no comparison.
“Wow, here I am rambling on but I know so little of you. Tell me about yourself, Damien.”
“Well you know... it involves managerial duties. I travel often. Place to place.” Yes, keep it vague.
“That’s why you couldn’t greet me in person. Are you from around here or are you passing through?” The waiter came back with a tall glass of ice water for him and refilled hers, but the second he was gone, Bryson stood, walked over to their table and rested his hand on Collette’s bare shoulder.
The touch was gentle, caressing her skin, that must have given her goose bumps.
“Bryson?” she said in an irritated tone through a forced smile.
“Hey, I uh... wanted to say hello. Check in on you.” He ignored Jesse completely, “You look incredible. I hope you’re having... fun.” His eyes dipped to soak her in for one last once-over. “Merry Christmas, Miss Collette Walters.”
Jesse glared at him like they were five and Bryson was trying to open his Christmas present. So he wanted to play dirty, huh? This tempted Jesse to tamper with their food, but thank the stars he was playing Damien this evening and not her guard dog.
Next time.
Chapter 6
Talk about awkward. Nothing about this date with Mr. Wright was perfect. Her nerves had the best of her, talking instead of listening. Why couldn’t she zip her lips? There was something uncanny about this man. He was distractingly handsome, but when she stared into his eyes, she sensed they had known each other all along. Was this how love at first sight felt, a quiet attraction so powerful words weren’t necessary to fill in the blanks?
Yet there she was blabbering away.
“If you want a drink, you can have one,” Damien said then glanced back at Bryson’s table. “I won’t judge you if you need something strong.”
“I’ll pass. This is fine.”
He smiled, “You sure? If I were in your shoes, I’d take a swig. Heck, I’d swing the bottle right at ‘em.” he chuckled, widening his eyes, embarrassed when she didn’t laugh with him. “If I were the rowdy type, which I am most definitely not.”
“I’m sorry I’m a prude,” she twirled her hair around her fingertips.
“You’re not. I’m the dumb schmuck. If someone offered me a drink, I used to take it then the next, no questions asked. I’d do just about anything to impress my friends and band mates when I was younger. Had to really clean up my lifestyle. It cost me my future, my friends. Do yourself a favour; never choose the thrill over the ones you love.” He lifted his gaze studying her momentarily, like he was searching for her reaction, but she was more curious to why he would bring this up in the first place. “There’s something I should tell you.”
She lifted her chin, and he gulped. When their eyes met, he hesitated.
“What I meant is it’s nothing to feel ashamed about.”
“Bryson always thought it was weird I don’t drink.”
“Bryson?” he repeated.
“That guy who just greeted us a moment ago.” Bryson and Gabrielle were long gone. It was like nothing had changed. The same table, same steak, the same extravagant tip to the waitress, only it was another woman—not her—like she had been replaced.
“My ex has been texting me constantly, wanting to talk it over, but honestly I want to move on and forget about it. Only...” she sighed, pushing the croutons in her salad. Why did she order a salad anyway, was it because Gabrielle was eating one? “I had loved him. He was the first boy I ever loved, dated actually. I was so swept away with being a good student, I put aside a lot of things I could have done—should have done. I didn’t enter a relationship until after school and I suppose I had the opposite problem. I played it too safe. My parents have sided with him. Dad treats him like his own son.”
Damien reached over and snatched the crouton with his fingers and popped it into his mouth. “Sorry. Force of habit. You were saying something about playing it safe?”
“Yeah, well... I think I dated Bryson because I thought he was a good guy to date. He did everything by the book, flowers on our dating anniversary, birthday, and Valentine’s Day. He was organized, professional. Date night was the same time, the same day each week. I was just another thing ad
ded to his schedule. That makes it sound like he was self-centered, that he didn’t think about me. I liked the flowers, I really did. Those roses you gave me were absolutely beautiful. I loved them and they really cheered me up. But Bryson wouldn’t give me flowers out of the blue, there had to have been a momentous occasion. Maybe that’s why this hit me so hard, that we were never really a ‘we’; instead everything about us was centered on him and around his busy career.” She sipped her drink. “Lawyers, am I right? Not that it was about the money, but I knew with him we would have more than financial stability, an affluent lifestyle which has perks of its own.”
“Christmas is next week already, huh?” He gulped a third of his glass. His Adam’s apple bobbed down his throat with loud glugging noises.
“I don’t normally do this... meeting up with strangers. All of this is making me terribly nervous; can you tell?”
“If anyone should be afraid it’s me.” He scratched his head, something he had been actively doing all evening. She pointed it out and his cheeks darkened. “Haircut, I uh... I’m not used to having my hair this short.”
“Recent?”
“You could say that.” He chomped on his lip, studying her for a moment, “Would you like to skip dessert and head over to the Winter Carnival?”
“Funny enough, living here my whole life, I’ve never been.”
Damien’s jaw dropped. “Are you messing with me? No?” Taking her hand, he paid the tab promptly and they left the restaurant in the same beat.
“There’s nothing like having a full weekend pass,” he said as they crossed the street, following the plowed pathway, “Some people rave about the summer events, but there’s something magical about music regardless of the time of year. It may be cold outside but it warms the soul.”
'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 97