25
For the first time ever, I actually needed Rosie around. I was trying to decide what to wear for my date with Jeremy, and nothing seemed right. All I knew was, it had to be killer!
I hadn't exactly expected him to ask me out on a real date - I still wasn't sure where our mutual amorousness was leading, so I'd decided to take everything as it came. That's not to say that my heart didn't skip a number of beats when he did.
He had called me earlier and told me to be ready for about six thirty, which meant I had about four hours to find something that would knock his socks off.
"Deana! What a surprise!" Rosie said excitedly, through the phone.
"Hey Rosie. Are you busy right now?"
"Nope! Not at all. Just hanging out at Scottie's. What’s up?"
"Okay. Well, um . . . I have a thing tonight . . like a . . . an event, and I kind of need your help deciding what to wear", I said, hurriedly.
I was most definitely not telling Rosie I was going on a date; I had a feeling she'd run off to tell my mother and I'd had enough of that woman for thirty years! Besides, I hadn't even told Sheila or Fran, and I don't think I was planning to.
The thing is, the way I saw it, once I told people, that'd make it official, and then soon enough, when it came crashing down – as it was bound to – they'd all be there to watch. I really didn't think I could take another bout of humiliation like that, especially with the way I felt about Jeremy; I had a feeling it would hurt a million times more than getting dumped on my wedding day had. No amount of pessimism and readiness would be able to help with that.
"Oh! You want to go shopping?" She asked. I could hear the delight in her voice.
"Well, if you don't mind", I said, hesitantly. I wasn't sure it was such a great idea anymore. Rosie could be a very annoying shopper; that was the one thing she had in common with Fran. And don't even get me started on my mother. She was a whole other story; I'd only been shopping with her once in my life – I wasn't exactly a shopaholic anyway – and it was almost traumatic.
"I'll meet you at Paseo Nuevo in twenty minutes.”
"Great!" I said, with a strained breezy voice.
An hour later, we were at Bebe, scanning the clothes racks. We'd been to a few other shops, but Rosie kept saying ‘not good enough’. I just hoped that all the distress that I was going through would have a marvelous end result. Then, I'd feel entirely accomplished.
I pulled out a black and cream plunge halter neck dress and held it up. "I think this is nice", I said aloud, holding it away from myself.
Rosie snorted. "Deana, the back of the dress has to be extremely amazing. Even if the front is plain and simple, the back of the dress is key."
That sounded way off. "Rosie, I'm not so sure about that", I said slowly.
"Dee, I promise you, you're going to look amazing", she said, heading out of the shop.
I groaned inwardly and crossed my fingers tighter. All I could really do was hope.
We went into Chico’s, Cache, Macy’s and Nordstrom until, Rosie finally let out a high-pitched squeal at Juicy Couture. I saw some other shoppers staring at us, irritation and disdain spread across their faces.
"Jeez! Keep it down", I muttered in a sharp whisper.
"Sorry", she said, glancing around, and then handed me a dress. It was a black and baby-pink reverse big frill body con dress. It looked like a cross between a negligee and a party dress. I was a bit skeptical, but I went into the back to put it on. And I had to say, I was impressed with Rosie's taste.
The figure hugging body con was subtly sexy, with an exposed zip down the front and gorgeous frill detailing. Combined with an exposed back and cross-over straps, it was stunning!
"So? What do you think?" Rosie asked, through the changing room door.
I stepped out and moved to the larger mirror. “I love it”, I answered, twirling around, slightly.
She squealed again. “Me too! Flirty and feminine!”
I grinned and admired the intricacy at the back. “It’s perfect.”
“I know! Now, shoes!” she said, clapping her hands together.
“That’s okay, Rosie. I have lots of shoe choices”, I said.
She looked a bit disappointed. “I saw a Lulu’s on the way up”, she said piteously.
“Um . . . okay. One pair”, I said, reluctantly.
She squealed again, and I went off to pay. I didn’t want to indulge her need for shopping, but it was most likely never going to happen again, so it didn’t really matter.
“So, Lulu’s”, she said, as we walked out of the store.
“Yeah”, I said, with a sigh.
“What’s this for, anyway?” she asked, referring to my acquisition.
“Um . . . I have a . . . a work thing”, I lied.
She eyed me curiously. “Do you . . do you have a date?” she asked,
I felt my face heat up. Why was I cursed with an obvious display of a lie or embarrassment?
“No!” I said, as we headed down the escalators.
“You have a date? Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Because I don’t. I told you, it’s an event.”
“Deana, I know when you’re lying. You’re my sister, remember?”
“Rosie, I’m not lying”, I lied, again.
“It’s cause of Matt, right? That’s why you didn’t tell me?”
“Matt who?” I asked, knowing full well that she was talking about Matt, my ex.
“Deana, seriously. He’s like the huge rhinoceros in the room”, she said, as we walked past Aldo. I was tempted to go in, so that we could get the whole shopping thing out of the way. It was becoming more of a chore, with every step.
“I think you mean elephant”, I said.
“Whatever. My point is, we should talk about it. That way, you’ll start to trust me again”, she said, stopping abruptly.
I sighed. Why did everyone keep trying to get me to open up?
I turned to face her. “Rosie, one, I’ve never trusted you. You burnt down my apartment, for crying out loud. And, two, you know I’m not a feelings person; I don’t want to hear or talkabout Matt. Can we please just get me shoes?” I asked, pleadingly.
She looked hurt for a second, and then, she nodded. “Fine.”
We headed off to Lulu's in silence, and I grabbed the first pair of pink platforms I found. The awkwardness was smothering.
"So, do you want to grab lunch or something?" she asked, after I'd paid.
I hesitated. "Um . . . I should actually go get ready now."
"Oh . . . . well, have fun . . . at your thing", she said, with a small smile.
I nodded and turned to leave, but then stopped. "Rosie?" I called. She was admiring the shoes in the front window of Lulu's. She looked expectantly at me.
"Um . . . It is a date", I said, with a small shrug.
She grinned. "I know. You going to tell me who it's with?"
I shook my head and said, "Not a chance", and headed off in the opposite direction. Baby steps.
I finished off, curling my hair, and then went out to the front hall. Jeremy said he'd pick me up, so all I had to do was wait. I was fully prepared for the phone to ring any minute, with Jeremy on the other end, cancelling. I had my pajamas all laid out on my bed. Just in case.
Shannon bounded up to me as I perched on the arm of the sofa.
"Hey girl", I said, playing with her ears. I crouched down in front of her. "So, you like Jeremy, right? . . . . think he's going to show?"
She let out a loud bark, just as I heard the buzzer. I swallowed hard. "This is it", I said quietly.
"Yeah?" I said through the speaker.
"It's Jeremy", he replied. Like I didn't know.
"Come on up", I said, and unlocked the door. I felt my heart race as I heard him push the door open. I really couldn't understand where the sudden nervousness was stemming from. I mean, he always made my heart race, but this was definitely not the normal kind.
I just really wanted it to go great. We'd had hung out a lot over the past month, and it was great, but somehow, labeling this one as a "date" made it seem more intense.
I got up, as I heard the knock. I pulled open the door and caught my breath. He was dressed in all black - a button-down t-shirt and dark jeans. He looked so sexy standing there, with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall.
"Hey", he said, as his eyes raked over my body.
"Hi", I managed to croak.
"Hi", he repeated, grinning.
"Hey", I said, still enthralled.
I could feel my previous nervousness dissipating. Just seeing him made me feel like everything was right with the world.
I felt Shannon slide by my legs and paw Jeremy. He crouched down and stroked her, keeping his gaze on me.
"So, you ready?" he asked, with a nod.
I let out a breath and said, "Yeah." I grabbed my purse, and with one last stroke of Shannon's fur, we headed down the stairs.
"I'm sorry I didn't say this earlier. You look . . . amazing, Deana", he said, as we stepped outside.
I grinned. "Thanks. You look great too."
I looked around for his limo or one of his cars, but they were nowhere in sight.
"Um . . Okay, so don't freak out. I didn't bring a car", he said, slowly, turning to face me.
I frowned. "We're walking?" My feet were going to be so sore.
"Of course not. Can you even walk in those?" he asked, looking down at my shoes.
"Yeah I can. Just not for too long."
"Well, you're good. We're driving. Well, actually, you are", he said, heading round the side of the building.
I followed him slowly, and stopped abruptly, dropping my mouth open.
"No way! I can't drive that!" I exclaimed, as I scanned his motorcycle parked on the sidewalk.
"I remembered you told me you'd always wanted to drive one. Now’s your chance", he said with a shrug.
"That is so sweet, Jeremy, but I meant when I was sixteen! We're so going to die." I said, laughing in disbelief.
"You'll be fine. Besides, I'm right behind you", he said, pulling me closer.
"Jeremy --"
"Trust me", he said, with a nod. And I did. I really did. Completely.
"Okay", I said, beaming. I was actually pretty excited. As a kid, after I'd passed my driving test, my dad had taken me car shopping, but I'd turned everything down and asked for a motorcycle instead. I loved speed, and I liked to actually feel the speed; I thought it'd make driving more exhilarating. My mom said it was vulgar, and got me a Ford convertible instead.
He told me the basics steps to starting, braking, accelerating. I was eager, but terrified. There were so many things that could go wrong.
“Got it?” he asked.
"Um . . yeah. It’s pretty easy", with a nod.
"And . . . no helmets", he said.
"What? Why?"
"Well, it's more thrilling that way. And you can actually feel the wind in your hair." And that was what I really wanted.
"I don't know, Jeremy. What if --"
He groaned and rolled his eyes, still smiling. It was weird to think that there was a time he never did that.
"Deana, get out of your head and just drive."
I sighed. I really did want to, and I knew I probably wouldn’t get another chance."Okay", I said, gently climbing on, reluctantly.
I heard him let out a soft whistle and I turned, confused.
"Wow", he said, not even looking at me. It took me a second to realize that he was looking at the back of my dress. Rosie was so right! The back being killer was the key to the beauty of the dress.
"Thanks", I said, quietly.
He broke his gaze, grinning wolfishly, and climbed on. And suddenly, I felt like everything in my body had burst to life. He moved even closer and wrapped his hands over mine, on the handlebars. I felt my heart race, loudly, and I wondered if he could hear it.
"So, just drive. I'll give you directions", he said, his breath hot against my neck. I felt a small arching in my back and I let out a soft moan. Wincing, I hoped he hadn't heard it.
"Deana, you going to drive?" he asked.
"Yeah, sorry", I croaked. Was he feeling all these things I was feeling? If he was, he certainly didn't let on.
I started up the motorcycle and headed off, following his directions. It turned out to be pretty easy actually, just really heavy.
Me, in control, the wind in my hair, the feeling of flying; riding a motorcycle was exactly as I had imagined, and much more - I mean, I'd never pictured a dark, sexy heartthrob breathing down my neck, as I did it.
I drove on for a few minutes, until Jeremy said, "Right here."
I really wasn’t ready to get off yet.
“That was so amazing!” I said, breathless, from the exhilaration.
I looked up to find that we were parked by a dock. I guess I hadn't been paying any attention to where we were actually headed, in my stupor.
I felt him get off and I quickly neatened my hair. As much as I loved the wind, I could just imagine what sort of damage it had done to my carefully curled hair.
“Told you”, he replied.
I gently climbed off and took his outstretched hand.
"We're having our date on a yacht?" I asked. Duh! We were strolling towards the water.
"Yeah, I know it's a bit of a cliché, but I figured you'd probably already been to every restaurant in Santa Barbara, and I know how you feel about flying, so this was really the only other option", he said, as we stopped in front of a huge white luxury sailing yacht called the "Carmelita".
"No! It's great, Jeremy! Really", I said, sincerely.
"You sure?" he asked, as he led me up on board.
"Are you kidding? My last date was with Matt at Burger King!" I said.
He frowned, "Doesn't he work there?"
"Exactly!"
He chuckled and led me round to a table, set for two. He popped open a bottle of wine and poured me a glass. I grinned as we clinked glasses.
"So, what's on the menu?" I said, plopping into a chair he held out for me.
"First, music! What do you want to hear?" he asked, with a loud clap. I spun around to the sound of violins.
I grinned and said, "Queen."
He rolled his eyes, "Let me guess. Crazy little thing?"
I nodded and the band began to strum the tune to Queen's top, most popular single.
"Now, food?" I asked, expectantly. I could hear my stomach rumbling loudly, and if the band paused at any point, I bet Jeremy would have heard it too.
"Fine!" he said, sitting across from me, and handing me a laminated card.
"A menu. Really?" I said, with a chuckle.
"Yeah. I don't know what you like to eat, so I got everything."
"Everything?"
"Yup. Chinese, Thai, Indian, African, Mexican, Italian, French, American -- "
"Wow! Jeremy, you shouldn't have", I said.
He shrugged. "I know. But I wanted to."
I grinned. "Well, thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet. You've got to try it out first."
"Where is the food, anyway?" I asked, looking around.
"Glad you asked. Francois?" Jeremy called, and I spotted Francois trotting over, in his work suit.
"Miss Carter. Mr. Harrington", he greeted, with a nod at both of us.
"Hey Francois", I said, smiling.
"So, what country would you like to go to, tonight?" Jeremy asked, grinning widely. I’d not quite gotten to that heart-racing grin quite yet. It still made my heart skip a beat. Or two.
“Umm . . . Italy", I said, with a nod to Francois.
"I'll have French", he said, and Francois beamed and headed off to get the meals.
He sighed and leaned back in his seat.
"Since you have this all perfectly planned, what happens if we run out of stuff to talk about?" I asked, leaning my head in my palm.
He chuckled and shook his head. "I have a list of topics in my pocket. We're good", he said, shrugging slightly.
"Are you serious?" I asked, with a frown.
He rolled his eyes and snorted, "Of course not!"
I giggled and sipped my wine.
"So, who's Carmelita?" I asked, after a while.
"My mom", he answered.
"You're pretty close to her, right?"
"Yeah, pretty", he said, nodding.
"That's nice. What's she like?" I asked. I would love to be able to say that about my own mother, but every time I pictured her, all I saw was her disappointed look.
"She's amazing. Savvy's very much like her; strong, yet vulnerable. My dad was always working when we were kids, so really, it's always been us three; that's not to say it didn't hit us hard when he died. Especially Savvy.
My mom stayed in her room for 24hours and then came out to receive the casseroles, politely. I thought I was dreaming when I saw her all dressed up and beaming at our visitors. It was all just a show, though. I could tell she was hurting real bad."
"Do you see her often?" I asked, trying to veer from the morbid topic.
"I try to. She lives in Philadelphia, so it's hard, but we find ways", he answered, with a smile.
Francois got back right then, holding two steaming trays of food.
Pasta Alla Carbonara and Pot Au Feu. Buon Apetito!" he said, and headed off, skipping slightly. He was generally a happy person, and I guess he must have been good for Jeremy, in his mourning days.
"Enjoy", he said, clinking glasses again, and the, taking a bite of his food.
My meal was an Italian pasta dish based on eggs, pecorino romano (cheese), guanciale or bacon, and black pepper. It was extremely spicy, but savory.
"This is so good! Want to try it?" I asked, pushing my plate towards him.
"No, thanks. You want some of mine?" I was about to reply in the affirmative, when he went on, "Actually, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Remember what happened last time?" he said, chuckling.
"You're an ass", I joked.
"Correction. A hot ass", he said, with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes as he pushed his plate towards me. "Yeah yeah, I'm a bit of a klutz. So what?"
He snorted. "A bit? You do remember falling off a ladder, right? Tripping over office wires? And so many others that don't come to mind right now."
"You made me nervous", I said quietly, shrugging.
He smiled, "Really? How?"
Because you're so ridiculously hot.
Because of the way you make me feel.
Because of the way you look at me.
There were so many answers to that question. I just shrugged and took a large bite of his food.
"Mmmm. That's really good", I said, intentionally avoiding the question.
Talking about feelings were one of the queasiest things for me.
Jeremy didn't push further, which I was thankful for. He just grinned and said, "So, tell me about your family."
"Well, you've met everyone, except for the ones I actually like - my dad and Fran", I replied.
"What's your dad like?" he asked.
"He's pretty awesome. Very down-to-earth, and very unlike my mother . . . We used to be really close when I was a kid; he absolutely doted on me. But . . . I guess I grew up, and needed him less. We do try to make time, though . .”, I answered, thinking of our previous Sunday brunch, “With Fran, it's different. We've always been close. Rosie was and still is, my mom's favorite, so we'd always gang up on her, and then when she went off running to my mom, we'd run off to my dad. It worked out great", I said, grinning, in reminiscence.
He smiled, "That's nice. My dad was . . . more neglectful of everyone but Savvy. We just really didn't have anything to talk about - well, except money and stuff I wanted. But, even then, we'd send emails. I hardly even knew the guy", he finished with a shrug.
I gave him a small apologetic smile.
"So, you want dessert?" he asked, excitedly. He seemed to have a knack for changing topics, and avoiding them. Kind of like me.
I grinned. The awkward and solemn air had once again dissipated.
"Definitely."
"Great!" he said, getting up and heading round the other side of the boat.
He returned, shortly after holding a blue cardboard box, which he placed at the centre of the table, and opened up.
"Cake!" I exclaimed.
"Nope. Chocolate cheesecake. It’s from Sugar Cakes."
"You went back", I stated, feeling a light flutter.
He shrugged. "It's no big deal. You said you liked it, so I went to get it."
He pushed his chair round, next to me, and plopped onto it, cutting off a piece of cake.
"It is a big deal", I said, turning in my seat, so I was facing his side.
"It's just a cake, Deana", he said, with a hint of a smile.
I shook my head. "Not to me . . . . thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, dig in", he said, handing me a fork.
We munched quietly for a while. It was nice to hear the sound of the sea, combined with the dulcet tones of the violins.
"Do you actually ever sail this thing?" I asked, referring to the boat.
He smiled. "Of course. That's the whole point."
"Really? I thought it was for stuff like this", I said, only half-joking.
"Actually, I've never brought anyone here", he said, with a shrug.
"Really? . . . . So . . . . why me?" I asked, as my heart went on performing it's reflex "Jeremy" irregularities.
He gazed intensely into my eyes, further multiplying my heartbeat. "Cause you're you", he replied, nonchalantly and stood up, "You want to set sail?"
"It's dark, Jeremy. Is that even safe?"
"If you say that word, ‘safe’ again, or any of its synonyms, I might have to strangle you", he said, signaling to Francois, who was seated a few meters away, by the band.
I giggled and said, "Is it dangerous, then? You didn't say opposites."
He smiled. "We won't go far; it's okay."
Francois stepped on board, as the band began to pack up, and took away our dinner ware. When he was done, Jeremy gave him a wad of cash, and he left, after repeatedly thanking him.
"How long has he been your driver?" I asked, as he began to disappear into the night.
"He's not really my driver. More like . . a friend, who drives me around."
"Hm . . . so, how long then?"
"Well, I was four when I learnt how to say his name. I never really saw him before that", he said, furrowing his brow, in thought.
My eyes widened, "That long?"
"Almost all my life", he said, "So, you want to set sail?"
He could have asked me if I wanted to swim in shark-infested waters, and I'd have agreed.
As long as he was there.
I nodded, "Okay."
"Great!"
And, he went off to prep the boat.
"So, do you normally sail on your own?" I asked.
"Usually with Brad or Greg, on Brad’s own boat. Savvy gets seasick, and Lauren was hydrophobic", he answered, pulling cords and turning knobs.
"What if I was too? What would you have done?" I asked, trying not to linger on Lauren for too long.
"What? Hydrophobic?" he asked, still prepping the boat.
“Yeah.”
"Well, I had a back-up plan", he said, with a smile.
"What was it?" I asked.
"Drag you out here, anyway", he answered, with a shrug.
I snorted, as the sails billowed in the wind, and we slowly began to move.
I shivered, just as he said, "I should have a sweater down in the cabin. I'll go get it."
"No, that’s okay. I'll go", I said, getting up.
The cabin was almost as tastefully decorated as Jeremy's house was. With a large bed, a bedside table, dining area, a cupboard full of clothes and a kitchenette, it looked like he spent quite a lot of time at sea. It was the perfect getaway, anyway.
I grabbed a grey zippered sweatshirt and headed back up, resisting the urge to nose around even more.
Jeremy was pulling at a cord, as I walked back up. I held my breath as I watched his muscles clench.
I stepped even closer, and absentmindedly, walked right into the table, gripping the table cloth to keep myself from falling, but, in the process, pulling the table contents - red wine and chocolate cake - and falling flat on my butt. I felt the red wine spill onto my body, and the chocolate cake fall flat by my head - close call.
I winced in pain and groaned.
"Oh my God. Deana? Are you okay?" Jeremy asked, standing over me and holding out his hand.
I shut my eyes tightly. "No. I'm such a klutz!"
He chuckled, "Come on. You should get out of those clothes."
"I think I'm just going to lie here for a while. To bask in my embarrassment", I said, opening up my eyes.
He was leaning on his knees, with his hands. "Okay", he replied, still chuckling, as he settled down next to me, and lay on his back.
"I'm sorry I spilled your wine. And ruined the cake", I said, turning my head to look at him.
"It's fine", he replied, looking back at me.
I'd never actually got the purpose of looking directly into a person's eyes. But at that point the phrase "the eyes are a window to the soul", came into context. Not that I could see Jeremy's soul - please, that's just weird - but I sort of got the meaning. I could see him, without actually seeing him. A glimmer of pain and a hint of happiness.
"So, I bet you're never going to bring anyone here ever again", I said, mentally hitting myself for my lack of coordination.
"Nope . . . but, maybe if . . . you want to come again", he said, leaning up, on his elbow, and fingering a curl of my hair.
I smiled, as he leaned down, towards my face. He lingered there for a bit, and then said, "You really should get changed. That's going to stain."
"In a bit", I said, pulling him down, by his collar, and kissed him with all the energy I had in me.
You know that feeling of breaking out onto the surface of water, after diving into a pool or something, that's exactly how I felt kissing Jeremy. I felt the my dress absorbing the spilled wine, but I really didn't care.
We broke off, and he leaned back up on his elbow.
"Now, get changed", he whispered, breathless.
I bit my lip longingly and unzipped the sweater I was wearing, pulling it off completely.
"Deana, I didn't mean right here", he said.
I ignored him, and unzipped my dress as well, until I was lying in my black lace underwear. I needed him so much at that moment, it was suffocating.
"Deana", he breathed.
"You going to keep talking?" I whispered, as his eyes raked over my body.
He smiled, and shook his head, with a wolfish look in his eye, as he leaned down to plant a line of kisses down my neck. I arched my back, in response. This crazy longing was slowly killing me.
He pulled off his shirt, and just as I expected, another bout of near-perfection was thrown at me. I gasped as I traced my hand across his chest.
“Wait”, he said, grabbing my hand, “Are you sure about this?”
I whimpered as I felt him run his hands up and down my thighs. “Jeremy”, I moaned, breathlessly.
He chuckled, and brushed my hair out of my face. “Come here”, he said, pulling me closer, and kissing me, intensely.
So, lying there in a pool of red wine, chocolate cake splattered next to us, away from the world and everything on land, I became one with Jeremy. And, it was truly and honestly the most magnificent, earth-shattering, eye-opening moments of my entire thirty years of life! I had never felt such mind-blowing passion ever, I’d had to keep touching every part of him the entire time, just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. It was too real to be one, but at the same time, it was unbelievable!
Surreal would be the understatement of the century.
Simply put, there were no words.