Fighting Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 2) (13 page)

     “Well, we could cut down on time by showering together,” he said to me with a wiggle of his brows.

     “See!  You’re the one who instigates the funny business!” I cried.

     “I only suggested showering together as a merely perfunctory and sensible solution to save time.  I don’t know what you were thinking.  I do believe you might be a little fixated with the funny business.”

     “You are impossible.  Just drive, James.”

     He just laughed and drove us the short way to the hotel.

     Once we got to the room, I gathered my things and took over the bathroom.  I took a quick shower, not bothering with washing my hair since we wouldn’t have time for me to go through the production of drying and styling it.  I merely stuck with the original plan of coiling it at the back of my neck in an elegant chignon.  I put myself together as quickly as possible, and to my shock, I managed to be ready in twenty minutes.  Of course, I skipped a lot of my usual routine, such as forehead to toe moisturizing, but I hadn’t thought to bring it along anyway.  As I exited the bathroom, James was seated in one of the chairs in the room scrolling through his phone.  I assumed he was checking email or something.  He looked up at me and gave me a long, low whistle.

     “Mimi, you look gorgeous.  That dress is even better than the red one, I think,” he said.

     “You really think so?  I was so hurried; I feel like I’m missing something.”

     “Nope, you are positively perfect.  I can’t wait to have you on my arm with everyone wondering what I did to snag a babe like you.”

     I just rolled my eyes in response.

     “Okay, sweets,” he continued, “I’ll be out and dressed in less than fifteen minutes.  Just sit tight.”

     “Fifteen minutes?” I asked incredulously.  “That’s impossible.”

     “Less than fifteen, my dear.  You have to remember, I’m a military man.  I’m used to showering in five minutes and dressing quickly.”

     “Okay, in that case I’m timing you.  If you go over, you’ll owe me.”  I said, taking a seat in the chair he had just vacated.  I was staying as far away from the bed as possible because in all honesty, it was hard not thinking of the ‘funny business’ with the idea of him being naked just a room away while he showered.

      “That sounds more like incentive to take my time, Kitten.”

     “Just get ready.  And don’t call me Kitten.”

     Sure enough, James emerged from the bathroom clad in a gray, subtly pinstriped suit, with a celadon shirt and matching tie in eight-and-a-half minutes.  He looked very stylish and put together.  It amazed me that he could be so quick.  Of course, he hadn’t shaved, but it didn’t detract from his appearance.  The bit of stubble only added to his rugged good looks.

     We were seated in the restaurant precisely at eight p.m.  He was correct, we got to experience the last of the dazzling sunset as we each sipped cocktails and perused the menu.  For starters, we ordered fresh oysters and steamed mussels.  For our entrees, I opted for the local prawns while he ordered the rack of lamb.  The food was positively delicious, and we both ate far more than we should have.  Stuffed to capacity as we were, we decided to forego dessert and just ordered coffee.

     “So, Mimi.  When we were in Havasu you said you used to be a paralegal.  Why are you not now?” James asked as the coffee was served.

     I took my time adding cream and sugar to my coffee before responding, thinking how I would explain this without looking like a slacker.  I decided to just put it out there plainly and hope for the best.

     “When I found out my husband was ill, it was very close to the end of his life.  I left my job to take care of him full-time.”  I said, looking down at my coffee as I stirred it slowly.

     “You said when you found out he was ill, not we.  What does that mean?” he asked.  “Did he not tell you about it until he became visibly ill?”

     I swallowed hard around the lump that formed in my throat.  “Not exactly.  Vance and I were separated for a while.  He tried to tell me when he found out, although at that point his condition was already very advanced, but I wouldn’t speak to him.  Our friend, Justin, finally came and brought me to the hospital when his health was beginning to completely fail.”

     “Did he not ever tell anyone?  How can it be that no one told you before things got that bad?” he asked incredulously.

     “It’s kind of complicated.  I had left Vance because of extreme personality changes caused by his illness.”  I prevaricated on telling the whole truth about our separation, not wanting to sully his impression of a man I practically revered.  However, if we were going to get to know each other truly, I needed to carry on.

     “At first, he had become very cold and distant which was confounding because Vance was the warmest, most fun-loving person I had ever known.  He was working very hard at his job for a long time—he was an attorney and trying to make partner—so I just chalked it all up to the extreme stress he was under.  Eventually, it turned into outright verbal abuse.  As his behavior changes became more extreme, the more he withdrew until some days we didn’t see or speak to each other at all though we lived in the same house.  He’d rise before I woke in the morning and leave for work.  He wouldn’t come home until after I went to bed.  The man I knew disappeared, and it seemed we were both just shells of what we used to be.”

     I took a few sips of my coffee before getting to the final reason that pushed me out the door.  I hated remembering that for so many reasons.  The fright I’d felt, the alienation, but mostly because I now knew how very ill he had become, and I’d ultimately left him when he needed me most.

     “Eventually, he physically assaulted me one night because he didn’t like the dinner I’d cooked, and I’d stood up for myself under a barrage of verbal insults,” I said, plainly.

     James sucked in a breath.  “Were you hurt?” he inquired with an almost angry expression on his face.

     “No, not seriously.  A few bruises, a knot at the back of my head where he knocked me over and I hit the ground,” I said leaving out a few other details.

     “The bastard.  Yet, you still took care of him, Mimi?”

     “No, no, no, he wasn’t a bastard.  He couldn’t help it.  The tumor in his brain caused him to act like he never would have normally.  That’s one of the reasons why his friends and mother never told me about his condition.  They assumed I’d left a sick man that I just didn’t want to take care of.  Only Justin knew what he’d done, and they felt I didn’t deserve to be near Vance when his condition was grave.  Vance never would have hurt me if he were in his right mind.  It’s a guilt I’ll always bear.  I should have known something was seriously wrong.  For as long as I’d known him, he’d get these tremendous headaches.  He had seen a doctor for it initially who had given him medication for migraines that would put him to sleep and Vance just assumed that’s all they were—severe headaches.  Deep down, I knew something was not right, but I let him convince me that it wasn’t serious, just stress induced.  I knew Vance better than anyone.  I should have had more faith in him, in the fact that he loved me with all his heart and would never cause me pain, but I was wrapped up in my own feelings and hurt and put those first, rather than really thinking about it clearly.”

     “Mimi, you could hardly know that he had cancer.  It’s not like it’s the first thing on anyone’s mind when someone acts like a supreme dick.”

     “Please don’t talk about him that way.  Yes, that’s how I saw him at the time, but that was so very wrong.  I can’t have anyone thinking that way about him because he truly was the best person I’ve ever met.  Everyone loved him.  I wish I could somehow show you who he was,” I said, before draining my coffee cup.

     James slowly sipped the last of his.  “Okay.  I’ll try to accept that he was a great guy, but it’s hard when you’re accustomed to thinking there is no excuse for a man putting his hands on a woman like that.”

     “I know.  I appreciate you giving him the benefit of the doubt,” I said, resting my elbow on the table and my head in my hand.  I thought for a few moments about those last days with Vance.  How beautiful, how loving, how oppressive and agonizing.  I decided those were my private moments with Vance, and I didn’t want to share them.  At least not at this time.

     “Getting back to your original question, after he died, I’d lost my enthusiasm for my job.  He had left me with a very generous insurance policy, essentially one that will take care of me for the rest of my life.  I have been kind of floundering in the career department since then, though.  I need to get back to work to feel useful, but until recently hadn’t had any idea what I wanted to do with myself.  Nothing gave me that spark of passion that I needed to move forward.”

    “And now?” he asked.

     I immediately felt that sense of excitement that I did when I first found the classes at UCLA.  I straightened up and leaned forward and began to explain with gusto.  “Recently, I happened on a certificate course in fundraising at the UCLA Extension program.  I already have a bachelor’s degree and this will be a nice enhancement to it.  I hope to work eventually for a non-profit organization devoted to cancer research.”

     James looked at me with a big smile.  “I think that’s great.  While I have no doubts that you would succeed in whatever you set your mind to—you’re obviously whip-smart—but I can clearly see where this would be a real passion for you.”

     “Absolutely, and it’s something I can do to honor Vance’s memory.  He didn’t have any real treatment options at the stage he was at when he was diagnosed.  I’d like to do my part to help change that, if possible.”

     “When do your classes begin?” he asked.

     “This coming Tuesday.  I’m very excited.”  I nearly bounced in my chair for emphasis.

     “I’d wish you luck, but I know you won’t need it.  You’ll do spectacularly.  I just hope you’ll still have time for me.  I really want to keep seeing you and getting to know you better, Mimi,” he said as he signaled the waiter for the check.

     “Since I don’t have a full-time job and this is more of a program designed for working people, I don’t think I’ll end up being too busy.  At half-pace time, the program is twelve quarters so that’s three years.  I’m starting on that track to make sure I don’t burn myself out.  I’m not in an extreme hurry.  I want to understand the material inside and out so I can be as effective as possible.  If I can handle more, I will see what I can do to increase the pace of the program.”

     “It sounds like you have it all covered,” he said as he signed the bill, charging it to the hotel room and made to stand.  I followed suit and he led me out of the restaurant.  We went back up to the room where he directed me to collect my stuff so he could take me home.  I was a little perplexed.  Wasn’t he interested at all in some ‘funny business’ in this lovely room he got?  Maybe he was waiting until he got me home.  That must be it.

    I did collect my things and store them back in my overnight case.  Once in his car, I relaxed in the warm summer air.   I loved the feeling of it whistling past my skin and rushing through my hair.  I began to think about James and realized there was a theme here with him.  His work as a pilot, the trapeze school, this open-air truck…James needed to feel free.  I pondered over how deep this feeling ran.  Was he a daredevil?  Did he always seek out activities that enhanced this feeling of freedom?  I looked over at his handsome profile and smiled.  I was looking forward to finding all these things out in due time. 

     When we got to my house, he walked me to my door.  As I was unlocking it, I asked, “Would you like to come in for a while?  It’s still fairly early--only ten-fifteen.

     He smiled brightly at me.  “I would love to, but if I do, then funny business is sure to happen,” he replied.

     “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I retorted.

     “Not at all, Kitten.  I just want you to realize I don’t want you just for your body.  I really do want to get to know you and see what happens.  I don’t want this to be all about sex between us.  I can already tell you have far more to offer a man than that, and I’m not stupid.  I’ve lived enough of my life to know that I need more than wild and crazy times or just the funny business.  I’m looking for quality, Mimi.”

     My lips parted to say something, but nothing came out.  I really didn’t know how to respond.  Was he saying he was looking for a relationship?   I didn’t know how to articulate all the thoughts that were running through my mind.

     James moved forward and took me into his arms.  “Mimi, I can see your mind working.  Don’t overthink anything.  Let’s just let whatever happens between us happen.”  Then he leaned in and gave me one hell of a kiss.  It was long and slow, lingering.  His tongue rubbed against mine in a sensual dance as his arms gripped me tighter.  I felt his presence permeate my body, and I was breathless by the time he was done.  He slowly let me go and turned to leave.  Just as he was walking down the porch steps, he turned and looked at me.

     “Every time before I leave, I’m going to make sure you don’t forget about me.  Get used to it, Kitten.”

     I marveled for a minute as he turned and strode down the walk way.  Just before he jumped back into his car, I hollered, “Don’t call me Kitten!”