Unexpected: A Love Story

by J. Nichole

  “Did you miss me?” Holy shit. Did that just come out of my mouth? My head reared back in shock. I looked to my left and right and hoped the people beside me hadn’t witnessed me laying myself out for this man who I barely knew.

  “If that was your goal, you accomplished it.” He placed an empty glass in front of me and asked, “Violetta?” with a raised brow.

  “Violetta,” I confirmed. I only had twenty minutes, twenty minutes to admire him, shamelessly.

  He poured my glass and asked, “What’d you order tonight?” My brows bunched and I looked from my glass back to him.

  He nodded his head to the left and said, “From next door. What’d you order?”

  My smile reached my ears and I felt my cheeks blush. “Pad Thai,” I said, realizing I only had a few minutes to spare before it’d be ready.

  Nick looked down the bar to the guy rudely interrupting our moment. With a finger up to the man he said, “Bring it back. I’ll be sure nobody says anything to you while you enjoy it here.” He disappeared before I could consider his offer.

  I finished my glass of wine, and before I could leave I asked the brunette bartender for another glass of Violetta but I added, “Could you save it for me? I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll pour it for you when you’re back,” she said with a gentle smile.

  Most places didn’t condone bringing in outside food, and I felt bad for bringing in the Pad Thai, but Nick sounded so sure about his suggestion. When I came back with my bag I took my seat. Before I removed my container, I saw the fork, knife, and napkin on the bar.

  The brunette came back with a fresh glass of Violetta and said, “Enjoy your meal.” With a wink she walked away. Enjoy my meal I did. As I chewed the spicy noodles and chicken I took a small sip of my wine and wondered how I never had wine with my Pad Thai before; the citrus in the wine went perfectly with the lime drizzled on my noodles.

  As blue-eyes belted out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover,” the crowd responded, “So the bar is where I go.” The crowd became more energized and I was glad I knew the Ed Sheeran song he was covering. A lady beside me was dancing all in the face of the guy across from her and I’m sure she was feeling the song too, and maybe a few of the drinks.

  My bites slowed and I placed my fork on the bar, and as I did Nick came by and cleared them for me. I had only finished half my glass of wine and didn’t need any more. I knew how relaxed I was from one glass, and two would keep me in bed all day.

  To be sure the wine didn’t get to my head before I had to drive home I flagged Nick down and asked, “Can I have a glass of water?” He placed the water near my wine glass. “Oh, and the check, please?”

  His nose scrunched and he leaned over the bar to ask, “Do you have to leave so soon?” I didn’t have to leave then, but I should have left then. The bar wasn’t where I needed to be, and staying longer than I should would only have me finding love there, or so blue-eyes sang.

  “I should get going,” I said then added, “I need to wake up early tomorrow.” That was completely true. I could break from the books and would probably just end my night breaking in my new batteries. When I woke I’d be back on my study schedule.

  Nick rubbed his hand across his chin, where his beard was a perfect shadow outlined with sharp edges. “We close in an hour; if you stay we can chat while I close up.” I looked down at my watch because time hadn’t been on my mind since I walked in earlier; it was already eleven o’clock. How the hell had I been sitting there for three hours already?

  The thought of chatting with Nick with no one else around sounded like a fulfillment of my dirty thoughts, legs propped on the bar with him tasting my pineapple levels. As that thought made me warm I slowly nodded my head and made myself more comfortable in my seat. “Sure you don’t want another glass of Violetta?” he asked.

  “Water is fine,” I confirmed. Nick served the customers at the bar, and I continued to listen as blue-eyes covered more artists. I didn’t recognize any of the other songs but the music was tolerable, and his voice had range. As the crowd began to filter out, I watched another couple at the end of the bar. I imagined the guy was trying to convince the women to come home with him. She seemed to be conflicted with her choice, laughing and touching his hand, but not leaning in while he tried to whisper in her ear.

  Blue-eyes ended the night with a slow melody before announcing last call. By then the bar had only a few more customers, including the couple at the end. The lady made her final decision leaving the man sitting alone as she exited.

  Nick poured me another glass of water as he began clearing the bar of empty glasses and plates. “Thanks for staying,” he said as he wiped around me.

  “I thought I could learn why this Georgia peach moved to Cali,” I said as my dreams were crushed when the brunette started stocking the liquor bottles; we weren’t alone.

  “Where do I start,” he said maintaining his routine. “Outside of Georgia, Cali is the only other place that seems like home. When I finished school, it was hard to leave.” I felt him with that. I had been thinking about where I would go when I finished my residency, and although I’d like to be closer to my aging parents, I couldn’t imagine returning to Alabama.

  “Do you go home often?” I asked, knowing my travel back south was limited, but I went home at least twice a year. Always making sure I was home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. He wagged his head. “I only make it back twice.” I said, not wanting him to feel bad.

  The brunette stopped stocking and leaned against the bar. She looked at me with another warm smile before she told Nick, “We’re good for tomorrow.” Nick thanked her before telling her he’d wrap up. I looked to the corner blue-eyes was in earlier and it was now vacant. We were alone.

  “If you’re okay, I’m going to take a few things to the back, then I can join you before you rush off.” He looked at my empty water glass and asked, “Would you like another glass of water?” I nodded and he refilled it then went through the kitchen doors. The lights were still dim, and the place was silent. Now that it was empty I noticed the pictures hung on the walls, pictures of the Tower Bridge, the river, and a few of the skyline.

  My breath hitched when Nick took the seat beside me. The first time we had been this close, not separated by the wooden bar. “Hey,” he said after taking a sip of his drink and tilting his head to the side. “I saw you watching that couple at the end of the bar. Were you worried about her?”

  He saw me watching them? That’s slightly embarrassing. And maybe subconsciously I was worried about her, but how do I tell him about my random habit of watching people and making up stories about their lives? “I wasn’t worried.” I looked at my glass of water. “Okay, promise you won’t think I’m weird?” He nodded his head slowly, watching me cautiously. After all, don’t most weirdos say that line? “I have this habit of people watching and making up their backstory.”

  “Interesting.” He adjusted in his seat so he was facing me. “What story did you give them?” I gave him the run down of the story I had given them, including that she had a boyfriend who was traveling and not around. And he, he was a cheater. Girlfriend at home and all. “Wow.” He looked at me with his eyes aglow.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “This place was lovely tonight,” I said changing the subject. But his closer proximity and stare were making me warm all over. I placed my hand to the back of my neck.

  He took a sip of the brown liquor he had poured in a glass. “Yeah, the band we have is entertaining. The crowd goes off on their covers.” I laughed because I wouldn’t have described the crowd that way, but coming from him, with his southern drawl, it was a good description. “Tell me something about yourself, Alabama.”

  Instead of telling him an interesting fact like we were at a company ice breaker, I would have preferred to show him something. I kept it light and said, “I only knew one song the band was playing, I like ratchet music.” To that he laughed, a full throated, deep chuckle, his eyes ev
en watered a bit.

  When he finished laughing he wiped his hand across his eyes bringing my attention to their shade, more hazel than green in the dim lighting, but still noticeably sexy. I watched his mouth as he said, “I did not expect you to say that, at all.” I hunched my shoulders.

  “I also love to cook, but I can’t do it often because my meals involve hours in the kitchen.”

  He pointed a finger in my direction and said, “Now that sounds like Alabama, a southern girl at heart.” We both smiled before he asked, “Is it church in the morning?” I cocked my head to the side. “You said you have to get up early in the morning. From Alabama, I’m just guessing you may need to be in the Lord’s house.” His tone dripped of sarcasm but honesty.

  “No,” I said, ashamed ‘cause my mama was disappointed in me not having a church home after being in California for years. “I need to study actually. One of the main reasons why I never have time to cook how I want to.”

  “Hmm...” He paused before asking, “Grad school?” I told him I was in my fourth year of medical school and I saw the familiar look I received when people thought I was too young to be in medical school, let alone in my fourth year.

  Another one of my quirks was being one of the youngest students amongst my class. Graduating high school at sixteen, I started college and med school a couple of years ahead of my peers.

  His hand covered his mouth then he said, “A ratchet music loving, soul food cooking, soon-to-be doctor, child genius.” He took the last swig of his liquor and asked, “No time for cooking, or hanging out. Do you have time for anything?” To that I simply shook my head. “Like nothing? No time to let your hair down, explore the city, date?”

  Date, I hung on that word for a beat before saying, “It’s usually the clinic, and home to study, few stops in between.” Except for after finding his sexy ass in this bar, causing me to gravitate here.

  “I’m sure you heard all work,” he started and I finished for him. He smirked. “But you don’t apply that?”

  I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Easy for him to live by that motto, he was a bartender, in an environment surrounded by ease and excitement. “I’m here now,” I said brusquely.

  He threw his hands up in front of his chest. “But the last time you were here was weeks ago. I’m just a firm believer in balance, in all things.” His voice changed, sounding more stern.

  “Easy to say for a bartender.” After the words left my mouth I started reaching for my purse. I had enough people in my life telling me what I should do with it, I didn’t need another.

  He stood from his chair and said, “Damn. I haven’t heard that in a while.” We stared at each other, neither of us offering another word to ease the tension. I turned and walked towards the door, and he was behind me unlocking it to let me exit. I shook my head as I reached for my keys. “Drive safe, Alabama,” he said as he watched me cross the parking lot to my car.

  I threw my purse on the passenger seat and blasted Cardi B as I drove home, all the while thinking about Nick’s green eyes and passion for balance. And my insult to an obvious open wound, but as angry as I was at his words, I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to him.

  As soon as I entered my apartment, I dropped my bag, and I went straight to my nightstand drawer and powered up Mr. Wonderful. He didn’t care how I spent my free time, I thought as I unbuckled my pants. He didn’t need me to have a life.

  I lowered my panties and laid on my bed with Mr. Wonderful buzzing between my thighs I imagined Nick’s hands on my body and his green eyes staring into my soul. It didn’t take long before Mr. Wonderful delivered on his forever promise, to make me cum no matter what.

  Chapter 5

  “A seven-year-old with a seafood allergy fatally dies after smelling cod.” I re-read the headline a couple of times before I asked Dr. Slater what could have been done to predict the severity of his allergy.

  The clinic was slower than usual, and I had finished up my charts early. I had the rare opportunity to browse on my phone in the middle of the day. Dr. Slater was planning on leaving early to hit the golf course, but had to sign off on a few scripts before leaving.

  Hand to his chin, he looked up from the iPad and said, “Some things are medical mysteries, and severity of allergies is one of them. I’m sure there will be plenty of medical journals written about the incident.” He laid the iPad down and removed his jacket and loosened his tie as he often did before leaving the clinic. This time my body didn’t respond like it usually did. No warmth between my thighs, my cheeks weren’t flush. What the hell? I watched him grab his duffel bag, one packed with his clothes for the course, and the flex of his bicep did nothing to me. Nothing.

  “Don’t stick around here too much longer. I told Jillian to forward us to after hours,” he said before handing me the iPad and walking out of his office. His absence made me think about the shift in my attraction for him. Not like he had gotten ugly overnight, then I thought about how I spent the last few nights. Me, Mr. Wonderful, and thoughts of Nick. Nick, the guy I offended, but could have had dicking me down in real life.

  I walked back to the front desk where Jillian was grabbing her purse with a goofy grin. “What’s that grin for?” I asked.

  “Derek didn’t have to work today.” She wriggled her brows at me. “I’m headed over for a middie.” She barely slowed her trek out of the office long enough for me to ask about middie. “A mid-day fuck,” she called out over her shoulder with a giggle.

  I was the last to leave the clinic, and didn’t have the golf course, a middie, or anywhere to be. I drove to the grocery store to grab ingredients for smothered chicken, rice, cabbage, and cornbread. With the extra time I could cook while I read over my notes.

  The aroma that filled my apartment smelled like home and the thought of home made me miss my momma. I grabbed my phone after I cleared my plate and called her. “Monica?” She sounded shocked. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, Momma, I was just thinking about you. What are you up to?” I knew she was likely starting her bedtime routine. Her routine hadn’t changed since my days in high school.

  “Funny you should call.” Usually when she started her sentence like that it meant she was about to tell me about my life, or what I needed to fix. I sat back in my chair to receive her word. “Lisa was just showing me pictures of the grandkids today.” Damn, Lisa, my mom’s work nemesis. Nothing good could come of a sentence with her name and the thought of grandkids.

  With my notecards scattered in front of me I second-guessed my call to my momma. “Was she?” I feigned interest.

  “Yeah, and they are lovely. She has two now, her daughter just had a little boy.” I had never met Lisa, or her kids, but I felt like I virtually knew them. My mom had talked to me, sometimes angrily, about Lisa. She’s also told us about different milestones Lisa’s kids had reached in life. I sometimes thought her and Lisa sat at work comparing lives all day to one up each other. “It got me to thinking about when I’d be able to share pictures with her.”

  “You should call Austin about that. Maybe him and his latest girlfriend can make all your dreams come true.” My brother Austin was as close to having kids as I was, although older and a ladies man, he had no intentions of settling down anytime soon.

  I could hear my mom shuffling and grunting, likely steaming from my response. “You know, these days, women are just having kids.”

  “Mom,” I yelled into the phone. “You want a grand-baby so bad you’d settle for me not being married, let alone in a relationship.” She laughed and I continued. “And I’m not even thirty yet. I still have time before I need to be worried about chasing behind some baby.” I felt my blood pressure rising at the thought of handling a baby and everything else I had going on. Hell, especially without a partner to help me. So I added, “Unless you plan on moving to Cali to become a full-time nanny, then you’ll have to wait on that.”

  “Little girl,” her voice was much more jovial than mine had becom
e, “I’d do that for you.” My mom was still young, not even sixty yet. Her and my father both still worked and traveled whenever they wanted. I couldn’t imagine her wanting to be bothered with full-time care of a child, and I definitely couldn’t imagine her or my dad being okay leaving Alabama, their beloved state.

  “That’s sweet, Mom. But how about I work on a man first.” Before she could get ahead of herself I said, “When my residency is finished.”

  “Kids these days always prioritizing fun and work over a family.” I could see her face now, nose scrunched and eyebrows narrowed. When she was disappointed with me or Austin growing up she’d have that face. “I was hoping your pediatric rotation would change that outlook for you.” If she only knew some days it made me not want kids at all, she’d reconsider that thought. “Anyway, I’m getting ready for bed. Let me find your daddy. I’m sure he’d love to hear your voice.”

  I waited for her to walk around the house and find my dad. My dad was less intrusive, just glad I was happy and out of his pockets. Any conversations with him were light and easy, and of course I was a daddy’s girl, so hearing his voice could calm the worst of an anxiety attack.

  “Moni,” his baritone voice rattled on the phone. “A mid-week call, how are you?” And all was right in the world. Hearing his voice caused my shoulders to ease from around my ears, and the creases in my forehead disappeared.

  “I’m well, Daddy, how are you?” My parents were both in good health and still active. As he’d gotten older he worked less hours and made it home before my mom to cook dinner. If I ever married, I’d want an endearing husband just like him.

  My mom’s voice was whispering in the background, and I’m sure she was trying to convince him to talk to me about kids ‘cause he said, “Babe, cut that out, when she’s ready.” Then he responded to me, “I’m doing well, Moni. Put some salmon on the grill tonight, and whipped up a side salad, even baked some garlic bread. I was just sitting here with the sports channel and my bourbon.”