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Authors: Kathleen Mareé

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“Ah Mr Loft, so happy to welcome you. Please will you follow me Sir,” the formally dressed host says eagerly.

Mr Loft....?

I turn my puzzled expression towards Jay, and as he removes his glasses, he beams his playful grin in my direction. “I figured last night was far too memorable not to mention again,” he whispers sarcastically in my ear. I cringe.

Okay, he may have won that one.

We are led to a table upstairs, where we appear to be the only ones up here. My thoughts instantly go back to the private booth he and his
company
were sitting at last night, especially since he annoyingly mentioned the outing last night. The space he reserved was so exclusive and secluded. He obviously likes his privacy.

Can’t imagine why
,
my conscious remarks at me.

The images of
those
women immediately fill my head making me squirm uncomfortably, and for a split second I toss my head from side to side desperate for some kind of exit.

"Sir, your table."

As we take a seat across from each other on the circular table he remains silent whilst instantly browsing the menu. Now I definitely haven’t been on many dates since I’ve been with the one man for the last decade, but I’m certain there needs to be more conversation. A lot more. Not wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon in complete inept silence and considering I didn't want to think further about being alone with him; I bite the bullet.

It’s just talking Penny…

"So, have you eaten here before?" I ask surprisingly upbeat, considering my stomach was in sizeable knots as I shook the images of him with other women from my mind.

"Only once," he replies bluntly without even looking up.

Okay...

"And what did you order? Was it something you can recommend?" I ask, desperate to get more out of him.

"I think I had the grilled salmon and it was good."

Geez, this is painful.

My nervousness starts to give me verbal
diarrhoea
; since asking him questions wasn’t having the desired effect I was after.

"I’m not much of a seafood fan myself. I have this hideous memory of my dad taking me into this seafood restaurant when I was probably about fourteen and he ordered me this massive fish!" I raise my hands above the table, signalling the size of the fish that was presented to me on my plate, before sprawling on with my story. "It was honestly the biggest fish I’d ever seen! It wasn’t filleted or skinned or anything and the look of its eye just staring at me completely freaked me out." I chuckle to myself at the recollection. It was so nice to reminisce about my family and my past that wasn’t focused all on
him
. As small as it was, it felt good. So I continue on chirpily. "My dad then picks up the fish holding its body in one hand and using his other hand grips it around its mouth. He starts moving its jaw up and down like its talking to me." I get goose bumps just thinking about it, and smile at the fondness of the memory. "Needless to say it scarred me for life from ever eating it again."

I finish my story and turn my attention to Jay, who has finally taken his focus off the menu. He looks up at me, eyes softer than before which is a kind reprieve, but he looks confused like he's trying to understand something. "So you won’t eat fish because your father made it talk to you?"

He asks me in a way that makes me feel immature and silly.

"Yes. I mean no, not that," I scramble flustered, moving my gaze down towards the table. "It’s just something I remember," I mumble under my breath.

Instead of wallowing or changing tact, my mouth won't stop speaking. "So, how long are you in Sydney for?"

"Just a few days, I had a gig to do at the Loft last night," he pauses and grins briefly at me. I blush.

How can I forget?

"I’m back to the states tomorrow night. Red eye."

Tomorrow night?

"I have to finish the new album, some meetings and have a few gigs in LA to do."

I force a smile between tense closed lips. "That is a quick visit," is all I can seem to get out. Without any warning he continues to speak, and as his words are so far and few between I intently listen using every inch of my body to pay the upmost attention.

"I’ve always enjoyed Sydney."

Enjoyed?

"It’s a great city with great food."

Great women...

He raises his hands to his chin, resting his pointy elbows on the table in front of him. I nod so he knows I’m listening to his every word. "What about you Penelope? What’s your story?" he asks very...
seductively?
Well I think that’s what it is.

"My story?" I blink twice."What do you mean?" I ask innocently.

"Well last night you were quite determined to not let that suit buy you a drink, and you did everything you could to avoid my company.”

I squirm in my very expensive chair to where this conversation seems to be heading.

"And you came out of the bathroom quite...
emotional
." He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
He
looks confused. "I’m surprised that you even came out with me today."

His eyes stare into mine. Stare way down, like they are trying to read my souls silent pain and to uncover its deepest secrets. I squirm again uncomfortably, as I have tried to push all of that emotional pain so deep inside so I can try to move forward.

Why does he want to bring this up?

He keeps his gaze locked onto mine and my face scrunches slightly, not knowing where to start my words. I take an awkward breath.

"It’s a very long, complicated story... a painful one. One I’m really not ready to talk about," I finally say with complete honesty. I tear my glance away from him and stare down at the table in an attempt to stifle any under the surface emotion from spilling over.

From the corner of my eye I notice his pale, long arm stretch out towards mine as he places his barely there touch on my forearm. I look up slowly, breathless and lock onto his eyes from under my long lashes; my breath hitching from the gesture.

"Well whenever you are, I’d like to hear it. I’d like to hear about you." His words escape softly, as they disperse into the air. For the first time today his eyes are genuinely warmer and more inviting. I swallow heavily.

"You have me intrigued Penelope."

The fear I feel when his eyes burn into mine isn’t as intimidating, but the emotions he arouses inside me are much fiercer than before. I shrug my arm from underneath his gentle grasp, placing it in my lap underneath the table. He slowly retreats his outstretched arm towards him leaning well back into his chair, his eyes still trying to solve some puzzle.

"Excuse me Sir are you ready to order?"

Our private moment is interrupted by the waiter and Jay immediately peruses over the menu, right where he left off. He concisely dictates his order and the way he would like it, immediately forgetting about the almost tender moment we just shared - whilst I sit in a daze watching him.

 

"I’m famished!" he exclaims as he puts down the fork on his almost clean plate, and leans way back into his seat raising his hands to his hair. I’m actually surprised by how sexy he looks, you know, when he’s not being all intense and serious. I smile fondly at the view.

"Is that all you are going to eat?" he asks in disbelief as I peer down at my quite full plate which I’ve hardly touched.

I’m a girl okay and I am intimated to eat in front of you.

"I wasn’t that hungry."

And I really wasn’t prepared to eat in front of you.

He rolls his eyes slightly. "Ah, so you are one of
those
girls." He seems disappointed. His reaction gets my back up immediately, and again for reasons I can't explain in his presence, I can’t stop the flow of words building inside. My instant reaction of routine rebuttal that has been oh-too familiar.

"No, I am just not that hungry. I can’t stomach much food these days okay."

I blush at my minor outburst as I feel like I overreacted; and despite my eyes focusing on my knotted fingers in my lap, I can still feel his gaze intensify in my direction. It’s the way the air around me becomes thicker and much denser, like I need more oxygen to breathe.

"These days? Is this to do with that long story you don’t want to tell me yet?"

Yet?

I peer through my lashes again until our eyes meet. I’m surprised to see his expression is gentle, despite the opacity of the air between us.

"It may have something to do with that," I whisper slowly not wanting to say much more. We stare at each other for a moment longer before he seems to snap his mind out of his thoughts in a blink.

"Are you ready to go?"

Geez he’s such a schizo!

"I guess.”

 

Moments later as I exit the restaurant, I decide to wait for Jay across the street where I can overlook the Harbour. Despite only being with him for one day, he seemed to bring out an array of emotions from me. I was easily falling from uncomfortable one minute, to confidently stubborn the next. I felt a brief reprieve from him would be what I needed for my mind to be able to think straight. He was a little behind me fixing up the bill, which he wouldn’t let me contribute to I might add, so I knew I would have at least a few minutes to myself.

He can probably afford it,
my conscious quips.
Yes more than me since I’m technically unemployed!

I sigh at the thought.

I halt against the low rendered fence where I can rest my arms atop the ledge and gaze out across the calm waters. The contentment I feel whilst watching the passing ferries and yachts is such a feeling of peace. I take several deep, long slow breaths so my chest fills with the spring air and enjoy this moment of tranquillity. I beam at the pure joy such a simple task evokes in me, revelling in it wholly.

"It's such a beautiful spot down here."

I know that voice. I smile.

"Yes it is. I love it down here too. It’s so beautiful." I keep my eyes gazing lovingly towards the serene ocean.

"Yes definitely beautiful," he oozes softly; and for some reason the way he says it I am drawn to look at him. I am taken back to see that he his adoring stare is in
my
direction and not at the inspiring view I was referring to. As my head turns to meet his, our eyes lock like two magnets being pulled together by unseen forces.

Was he saying that I’m beautiful?

Surely not.

My eyes stay fixed to his despite me wanting to look away. I can feel my heart begin to pound loudly in my chest with an echo of the stabbing pain that now resides there permanently. My head is begging me to look away for fear where this may lead, but my brain has no control over my body’s actions when I’m around him. I feel his cool fingers gently rest of the very tip of my chin, our eyes still locked on each other. Slowly, and ever so carefully, I see his face move inches towards mine. My heart thumps louder in my chest...
Ow!
It screams, begging me to stop before he gets any closer. Pleading with me not to do this to it again - but my body isn’t listening. His mouth is mere inches from mine and I can feel his warm breath exhale onto my lips before I begin to close my eyes.

"AHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my God!! Oh my God!!!"

I am deafened by shrilling shrieks. I’m immediately snapped out of my position, clutching both of my hands up over my ears. I turn abruptly to see about half a dozen teenage girls going completely gaga for Jay. I don’t take my eyes off them for a moment as I take in the weirdness unfolding before me. Some are even crying!

"Jay! Jay Ryker? It is you!"

"Can I have a photo with you?"

"Me too, me too, please?!"

I am gobsmacked. I have never witnessed such strange behaviour before. I stand motionless, completely taken surprise by the saga surrounding me; staring un-emotively toward the young girls losing their minds over the very sight of him. It was sheer madness.

I finally turn to look at him and notice he has managed to cover up those gorgeous blue eyes with his dark aviators, as he stands stiffly beside me. He is rigid; appearing to be back to his usual stand-offish self and the firm line of those lips that were seconds from taking mine captive - are in a hard line. He doesn’t reply to the screaming fans with words, only nods politely, allowing them take their snaps of him; not indicating anything to me at all. It’s as if I am not even here. I’m confused as to how we could go from such an intimate, almost moment to him basically ignoring that I’m even in his presence.

Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?

As they take their turns all giddy, giggling, still screaming off and on, and telling him how much they love him; the bitter part of me who still tragically remembers her broken heart, starts to skulk away. I take a few strides down the street keeping my gaze on the Harbour until I can no longer hear the girls obsessed ranting.

I can’t believe he nearly kissed me!

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