Now he was speaking my language.
“I want to show you around Chicago. Real Chicago. We’ll go get Chicago dogs and go to a dive bar to listen to some music. Casual. Low-key. Dark!” He laughed, contagiously.
“Okay, okay,” I agreed, finally, unable to resist his smile.
“Awesome!” he said, pumping a fist. “Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Tonight?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged.
“Why not?” I repeated, laughing.
Gigi and I walked home and I felt like I was walking on a cloud.
So much for avoiding him, dammit.
Chapter 30
SAMANTHA
The next few hours flew by and by the time eight o’clock rolled around, I was a nervous mess. I’d given Dane my address, and then promptly second-guessed myself, just like I always did.
Was this being safe? I knew Rocco would tell me the answer was a very firm no. I couldn’t just stay home for the rest of my life, though. And dammit, Dane’s smile was just irresistible.
Again, I dressed down — wearing jeans and a green t-shirt and brushing my short hair into my face as much as I could. It would be dark out soon and my trusty sunglasses wouldn’t be able to shield me from view tonight.
Dane arrived, looking casual and handsome, his smile lighting up my living room. Gigi fawned over him for a few minutes and we locked up before he led me out to his Prius. It was a far cry from Nate’s limos and I was incredibly grateful for that.
“So, where are we headed?”
“Well, I thought’s we’d go to Jimmy’s Red Hots for a start.”
“What’s that?”
“You can’t be serious?”
I laughed. “I am, what’s a red hot and who is Jimmy?”
He shook his head in mock dismay. “A red hot is a hot dog. Jimmy is a very special man who created the best hot dog stand in the Windy City! A Chicago dog is not your normal hot dog, you see. You haven’t had one yet?”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. I knew, however, that Chicago was famous for its hot dogs, it’s just that hot dogs aren’t a steady staple in my diet. “Hot dogs aren’t very healthy, are they, doc?”
“Maybe not, but you only live once, Samantha,” he said, laughing.
I nodded, he was right about that, for sure.
Jimmy’s was not far from Millennial Park, the park with the shiny bean sculpture — another place I’d not visited yet. We drove by and Dane pointed it out. “Tourist trap,” he muttered.
“I still haven’t been there,” I said. “I should go soon.”
“Chicago is great — great culture, great museums, great parks,” he nodded, maneuvering through traffic. “But the real soul of the city is found in the old stuff. Restaurants and bars that have been around for decades. The neighborhoods of real folks doing real things, just trying to survive.”
“You sound very fond of it,” I said.
“I am,” he said. “And proud. I wouldn’t be who I am without having grown up here.”
He pulled into a parking spot of a run-down, low slung brick building that was adorned with brightly covered yellow signs advertising it’s name — Original Jimmy’s — and it’s food — red hots, polish sausage and oddly, supreme tamales.
“It doesn’t look like much, but give it a chance,” he said, with a confident smile.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. His enthusiasm was as contagious as his grin. He was genuinely happy to be showing me his favorite places, and it warmed my heart.
When we walked in, I was surprised to see the lack of tables. There was a counter to order from and then counter seating lining the windows.
“Don’t say the word ‘ketchup’,” Dane warned as we walked in. I looked at him in confusion, but quickly figured out why.
Chicago dogs are apparently barren of ketchup, and strictly forbidden. With yellow mustard and bright green relish, white onions and peppers, it was definitely colorful. Dane ordered for us and soon we were bellied up to the counter on a stool by the window, watching the people of Chicago buzz around outside.
“This is amazing,” I said with a full mouth as the flavors exploded on my taste buds.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “It’s my favorite place to eat in the entire city. Been coming here since I was a little boy. My dad brought me here before we’d go to baseball games at Wrigley Field.”
“That’s awesome,” I replied. “Are you close to your family?”
His eyes darkened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “I use to be. Mom and Dad passed away a few years ago. Car accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“They were on vacation,” he said. “Driving through a small town outside of Omaha. The hospital was too far away and they didn’t make it in time.”
“That’s awful,” I said.
He nodded, tears springing to his eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself for not being there.”
“You couldn’t have known,” I insisted.
“Still,” he shrugged. “If I was there, I could have saved them.”
“Or, you could have died too,” I suggested gently. “I bet you’ve saved a lot of lives since then.”
“I have,” he admitted. “Somehow that doesn’t really help. Just like saving ten patient’s lives doesn’t save the one you lose.”
“I understand,” I replied softly. I did, too. Losing a patient was the hardest thing any healthcare worker had to endure.
He looked sad and far-away and I wanted to wipe the sadness from his eyes.
I grabbed a fry and waved it in the air. “So no ketchup for the fries, either?”
He looked over at me in horror, putting a finger over his lips and shushing me. “I told you, don’t say that word, we’ll get kicked out.”
I burst out laughing and my heart soared when he did, too.
“So, what’s next?” I asked.
“I mentioned a dive bar, right? You like live music?” he asked. The question was so innocent. Just like the other night when he asked where I was from. But again, for me, it was so loaded, I felt nothing but despair. I loved live music — or at least I had before Nate had ruined it for me. Now, it was hard to listen to any music at all.
“Sure,” I lied, hoping like hell my fake smile didn’t appear as fake as it was.
“Excellent,” he said. “Finish up and let’s go get a drink.”
“Sounds good,” I said, stuffing the rest of the hot dog in my face.
Half an hour later, he pulled his car into a parking spot on the street. The neighborhood was as urban as it got. He’d parked in front of a narrow brick building — with what looked like apartments on top, and a small bar on the bottom. Neon signs letting us know it was ‘Open’ and that they had ‘Ice Cold Beer’ lit up the sidewalk outside. Customers streamed in and out as we got out of the car, loud rock music poured out of the bar every time the door opened. I looked along the street and noticed a dark sedan pull in behind us, a lone man at the wheel, his eyes trailing us as we walked to the door.
I took a deep breath, trying to push Nate to the back of my mind, and shake off the constant fear of being recognized.
Dane put his hand on my lower back to guide me through the door, and his warmth sent shivers up my spine, instantly putting me just a little more at ease, even though he didn’t know it.
The tiny bar called Phyllis’ Musical Inn was packed to the gills. Swaying to the loud rock music coming from the band playing at the other end of the room, customers lined the bar and crowded around the few small tables lining the walls. Lively and jubilant, the crowd swirled around the bar like butterflies, people stopping to say hello and hug each other, foamy beers and drinks in hand, spilling over their fingers and onto the ancient hardwood floors beneath our feet.
The contrast to every place I’d ever gone with Nate was stark. There was no flash, no bling, no pretension at all on the faces of th
e people around me, and I instantly fell in love with the sights, sounds and smell of the place. My shoulder relaxed and a smile spread across my face, leaving me beaming at Dane as he ordered us a couple of beers, then grabbed my hand and led me right to the front of the stage.
The band consisted of a beautiful, grey-haired woman singer and three men backing her up. They rocked the place, leaving the people on the dance floor begging for more with smiles plastered to their face.
It was nothing at all like Nate’s shows, which seemed to be more about Nate than the music. The people weren’t really there to listen to Nate’s moving lyrics — no, they wanted to see their obsession in person, and when they frantically chanted his name and demanded an encore from him, it was all about celebrity and being close to fame.
This was nothing at all like that.
Dane smiled over at me. “What do you think?” he asked, practically shouting in my ear to be heard over the loud music ripping through the place.
“I love it!” I shouted back. We lost ourselves in the moment, drinking our beers and dancing and swaying to the music for a few songs, until Dane grabbed my hand and led me to the back of the bar and out a back door that led outside into a beer garden with ribbons of dark green ivy climbing up the bricks on the side of the building. Strung up lights sparkled over our heads as he led me to a dark corner table.
“This is my second favorite place in the city,” he said, his eyes shining with happiness.
“I can see that,” I said, smiling over at him. “Thank you for bringing me here, I love it. Is it always this crowded?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But I love it when it is. Some nights, you can barely move through the crowd but the energy is addicting.”
I nodded in understanding. He reached over and grabbed my hand, enclosing it in his warm, smooth palm. He stared over at me silently, his eyes darting down to my lips and back up to my eyes in a silent question that I didn’t have the strength to answer just yet.
I smiled and looked away, taking in the people around us.
A couple sat nearby totally making out with each other and I quickly looked away, feeling like an intruder witnessing their intimate embrace. Another group of five sat at another table, drinking and smoking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world. I couldn’t help but envy them.
I longed to just let go of all my fear and enjoy my evening with Dane, but it felt like Nate’s presence was always sitting on my shoulder no matter what I did.
It was infuriating.
I knew it was going to take a series of small baby steps to move on with my life, but I didn’t realize I’d be burdened with the thought of him no matter where I went. It was like he was burned into my soul, into my brain, into every cell of my body. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t love for him. It was the trauma he’d inflicted upon me that I was carrying, and I knew this. And the fact that it would take years and years of taking those small little baby steps before I made any significant progress was disheartening, to say the least.
But I wouldn’t get there if I didn’t keep taking those steps.
I looked over at Dane and wondered how far I could get with him.
Was he just a small step or a big leap? I’d never know unless I jumped.
He was still smiling at me, watching me avoid his gaze with a scrutinizing squint.
“What are you afraid of, Samantha?” he whispered.
Everything, I thought.
Everything…
Chapter 31
DANE
Her eyes flashed with pain.
“I’m not afraid of anything,” she replied, her voice raising an octave as she gave me a fake smile.
I sighed and nodded, resisting the urge to wrap her up in my arms and tell her she was safe. Someone had hurt this woman, badly. I’d seen this look before, back in my residency, when I was working in the ER. Domestic violence victims would come in — shy, intimidated, submissive and absolutely terrified.
It was that terror I saw in Samantha’s eyes.
I wanted to wash it all away but I knew I couldn’t do that.
I wasn’t the one that put it there, and with any hope, she’d find a way to heal from whatever her past had dealt her. All I could truly do was be her friend, in whatever way she allowed me to.
I knew the most important thing to do was not push her in any way.
So, the fact that I was dying to pull her into my arms and kiss her deeply, show her the effect she had on me, was completely irrelevant right now. That would come in time, if it was meant to come at all.
“Let’s get another drink,” I said, grabbing her hand and ignoring the look of relief that washed over her face.
“I’d love that,” she said, trailing behind me through the maze of people.
I could wait. I had all the time in the world. I’m a patient man.
For now, the intimacy of her hand in my mind would have to be enough.
And it was.
It truly was.
Chapter 32
SAMANTHA
An hour later, sweaty and slightly buzzed, we stumbled out of the bar and onto the neon-lit sidewalk, a full moon hanging heavy and bright in the sky above. Dane’s hand in mine had quickly become a favorite comfort and I was reluctant to let go as he opened the car door for me.
I glanced back before sliding in and saw the man that had pulled in behind us when we arrived was still sitting behind the wheel of his car, his eyes still watching us. My heart skipped a beat and I quickly jumped in Dane’s car.
He trotted around the front and jumped in as I kept my eyes glued to the mirror to watch the man behind us. When Dane pulled out, the man pulled out into traffic behind us.
Shit, I thought to myself, my fingers trembling in fear.
Dane was talking to me but I was having a hard time paying attention.
“My friend at work turned me onto that band,” he said. “They play there every Saturday night.”
“Mmmhmm,” I nodded, swallowing hard. “They were great.”
“Want to come back next week?” he asked, reaching over and grabbing my hand again. I grasped his gratefully, trying to find any way at all to make my heart stop racing.
“Sure,” I said, although I was completely unsure if I was ever going to leave the house again at this point.
Dane drove through the city, making several turns on the way back to my apartment, and the car behind us took every one of them with us. By the time we were a few blocks away, I was convinced he was following us, and my heart was beating wildly in my chest.
Dane pulled over in front of my apartment and the car kept going, the man turning to look at me as he did so, our eyes meeting as he passed.
“Samantha?” Dane asked.
“What?” I said, a little too sharply.
“Is everything okay?”
“Um, yeah,” I said, as I tried to keep my voice from trembling.
“I had a great time tonight,” Dane said, turning in his seat to look at me fully. The idea of saying goodbye to him right now terrified me. I didn’t want to be alone. Sure, I had Gigi to protect me, but she loved everyone equally and the image of her licking an intruder’s face with glee flashed in my mind.
“Me, too,” I said, biting my lip. “Do you want to come in?”
He blinked in surprise. “Sure,” he quickly said.
I nodded, grateful for his agreement.
Just for a little while, I told myself.
He jumped out of the car and came over to open my door, always a perfect gentleman. I couldn’t help but smile at his manners. He must have had a good mother, I thought. The good guys always do.
Gigi met us at the door with a wagging tail.
Dane was enamored with her, and it was obvious she loved him back, but as I’ve already established, she is obviously a terrible judge of character. We stepped out into the yard to let Gigi out for a few minutes, my heart pounding from fear and anxiety and excitement, all at the same time, lea
ving me breathless and dazed.
“Want another beer?” I asked, as I left them to fawn over each other and headed to my kitchen.
“Love one,” he answered.
I brought them back and we settled on the couch, Gigi demanding to be pet before she eventually settled at our feet in a huge pile of fur.
The slight buzz I’d maintained at the bar seemed to have disappeared completely, either sobered by the waves of fear and paranoia washing over me, or by the fact that I’d invited a man into my house. But one good look at Dane made me realize that he was still buzzed and had an entirely different ending to this night in mind.
His brown hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes bright and glossy and he was looking at me with a hopeful smile.
Shit, I thought. He thinks he’s getting lucky.
I grabbed my beer and took a huge gulp. What had I gotten myself into? I was ecstatic he was sitting here, because I didn’t want to be alone. But I certainly wasn’t ready for — whatever that look he was giving me was suggesting.
He stared at me silently for a moment, then his eyes darted down to my lips again. I wanted to kiss him, there’s no denying that. I was just afraid. Afraid of being wrong, afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of wanting more…and getting it. And not knowing what to do with it…to do with him…once I had him.
Fear had a huge grip on my heart and I needed to find the strength to fight it.
Maybe kissing Dane was the first punch of that fight.
“Hit me,” I said, the words blurting out of my mouth.
“What?” he asked, his eyes widening. I covered my mouth, shocked at my words as much as he was.
“Wait, I didn’t mean that, I meant…,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Dane, I’m afraid of you, if you can’t tell.”
“I noticed a little hesitation,” he winked.
“Right,” I nodded. “I am, for a myriad of reasons that I can’t get into right now. But I know I like you. And I think you like me. So, I’m fighting that fear. And I was just thinking that kissing you might be a good way to get the fight started so I’m not afraid anymore.”
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