Love Left Behind (12 page)

I powered down my
computer and grabbed my purse from my desk drawer.

"Have a great
weekend, Celeste."

"You too,"
she said with a sly wink. "Remember, I want
all
the details."

I laughed as I slung my
purse over my shoulder. The subway ride home was quick which was fortunate
because I was stuck in a car with no air conditioning. Even the oppressive heat
of being underground in a poorly ventilated subway car couldn't dampen my
spirits.

Claire wasn't home when
I got to the apartment. She had been up early again this morning and I had told
her I was coming to see her show tonight after having dinner with Jackson. She
seemed excited and made me promise to go out for drinks with her afterwards. I
didn't think Jackson would mind going out for a few drinks so I agreed.

I had an hour to get
ready so I took a leisurely shower. As I let the warm water run over my body, I
couldn't help but remember Jackson's hands on me, caressing me in places I had
never thought of as erotic. His soft kiss on the back of my knee had sent
chills running through my body. I was taut with the anticipation of feeling his
lips on me again.

I turned off the water
and got out of the shower before my wayward thoughts made me late. I had texted
Jackson earlier today, not knowing how I should dress for dinner. He had
replied to dress casually although he wouldn't tell me where we were going. So
I slipped on a pair of skintight dark jeans that I knew did wonders for my ass,
pairing it with a black halter top and black high heels.

I took time with my
makeup instead of the usual swipe of mascara and lipstick I applied most
mornings. Smoky eyes and dark red lips completed the look and I brushed my hair
until it was shiny and smooth. I studied myself in the mirror, turning my head
from one side to the other.

Not bad,
I thought. With my short stature and curvy figure I
wouldn't be gracing any runways, but I was satisfied that I looked my best.

I checked the clock in
the living room since I didn't want to wear a watch with my outfit and saw that
it was six-fifteen. I sat down on the couch, nervously tapping my foot. I tried
flipping through a magazine, but I just ended up staring at the pages
unseeingly. I had given up on the magazine and was going to flick on the
television when I heard the front door buzzer. I ran over and pressed the
button to speak.

"Hello?"

"It's
Jackson."

"Come on up,"
I replied as I pressed the button to unlock the front door. My stomach was
twisting in knots, anticipation and nerves jostling together.

I opened the apartment
door when I heard Jackson bounding up the steps. My insides warmed when I
caught sight of him. A part of me had wondered if I had imagined how gorgeous
Jackson was. I now realized that my imagination hadn't done him justice.

He was wearing dark
jeans and a grey button-down shirt that was untucked. Even though his clothes
weren't form fitting, you could clearly see his defined muscles underneath. His
dark hair was tousled and his green eyes looked happy to see me. His wide smile
showed off his dimples and I wondered if I would ever get used to them. They
were so boyishly charming in his decidedly masculine face.

"Hi," Jackson
said, leaning down to brush my lips with his. He walked into the apartment,
seemingly familiar with his surroundings. I reminded myself that he must have
been in this apartment many times since he was friends with Claire.

Jackson grabbed my
hand, twirling me around. "You look good enough to eat."

I laughed at his
lascivious look. "Thanks. You look nice too."

"We've gotta get
out of here before I'm tempted to forget about dinner," he said with a
wink. "Ready to go?"

"Yup, let me just
get my purse." I grabbed my black clutch that I had laid on the breakfast
table as well as my keys. When we got to the sidewalk in front of my building,
Jackson held up a hand to hail a cab.

"We're not
walking?"

"It's not too far
away but not close enough to walk." Jackson glanced down at my feet.
"Especially with those shoes."

"Hey, these are
comfortable," I said defensively.

Jackson quirked his
mouth. "I'm not complaining. My imagination is already in overdrive with
what I want to do to you while you wear nothing but those heels."

I bit my lip, not
knowing what to say. Jackson just grinned, those dimples peeking out at me
again.

Fortunately, a cab
stopped in front of us, saving me from having to respond.

"20th between
Broadway and Park," Jackson told the cab driver after we had climbed into
the backseat.

"Now are you going
to tell me where we're going to dinner?"

"Gramercy Tavern.
It's one of my favorite restaurants."

"Wait a
second," I said horrified. "Isn't that a fancy restaurant? I'm not
dressed for a nice restaurant! You said casual!"

"Don't worry, it's
pretty casual. You look perfect."

I frowned but I was
soon distracted by Jackson's hand holding mine, his thumb absentmindedly
stroking the skin between my thumb and forefinger. An area I had never thought
of as being sensitized enough to give me chills from his touch.

By the time we pulled
up in front of the restaurant I had forgotten all about dress codes, but
Jackson was right. When we walked inside the restaurant, there were people
dressed formally but I saw plenty of others dressed like us.

"Good evening, Mr.
Reynard," the maitre d' said as we approached. "It's good to see
you."

"You too, Marcus.
I have a reservation for two at seven o'clock."

"Of course."
The maitre d' grabbed two menus and guided us to our table. I followed,
nonplussed. Jackson must come here a lot for him to be on a first name basis
with the staff.

I swallowed a gasp when
I saw the menu. The only thing offered was a prix fixe menu and it was much
more than I was used to spending for dinner.

I peeked over the menu
at Jackson, but he was just nonchalantly looking at his own. He looked up and
caught me staring at him.

"What's
wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. This is
just a lot of food," I lied. "Is it a good idea to eat all of this
before your show?"

Jackson smiled. "I
could eat a ten course dinner and still be fine for the show. I won't have more
than one drink though. I doubt the audience wants to see me slurring through my
lines."

I nodded and looked
back at the menu. I suppose if Jackson was okay with paying these prices for
the food, then I was okay with eating it.

Our waiter came over,
filling our glasses with water. Jackson looked over at me.

"What do you want
to drink?"

"I'll take a vodka
tonic."

Jackson looked up at
the waiter. "She'll have a vodka tonic. Belvedere. I'll have the 18 year
Macallan with a splash of water."

"You'll have the
what?" I asked after the waiter had walked away.

"It's just a brand
of scotch."

I nodded as if I went
to nice restaurants every day where the maitre d' knew you by first name and
your date ordered drinks that only fifty-year-old men drank.

"You order drinks
like you're an actual adult."

Jackson grinned.
"I
am
an actual adult. So are
you."

I laughed. "I
know. I just still feel like a kid sometimes."

"Why do you say
that?"

I shrugged. "I'm
not sure. Maybe because I'm starting over again in a new city. Back in D.C., it
was the opposite. I used to feel ten years older than I actually was. I think
it was because my life was mapped out before me and I could see exactly what
would happen in the next twenty years. Now I'm not sure what's going to happen
in the next twenty minutes."

"Is that good or
bad?" Jackson asked.

"It's good, I
think. Better to figure out what I want now than have a mid-life crisis in
twenty years."

We were interrupted by
the waiter who brought our drinks and took our order. The amount of courses we
had to choose from was a little daunting, but Jackson assured me that the
portion sizes were small.

"To being young at
heart," Jackson said after the waiter had left, holding his glass up for a
toast.

I clinked my glass with
his, laughing. "I think we're a little too young to be making a toast like
that. We're not just young at heart. We're young, period."

Jackson grinned.
"You forget, I'm two years your senior. You'd be amazed by the amount of
wisdom I've gained in just two years."

"I'll keep that in
mind," I said smiling.

"So why did you
feel like you had your life mapped out for you?" Jackson asked, taking a
sip of his drink. "Does it have anything to do with the ex-boyfriend
Claire mentioned at Max's?"

The last thing I
expected Jackson to do was bring up Sean. I didn't even think Claire's mention
of him last Sunday had registered. Obviously, Jackson assumed that I had meant
ex-boyfriend when I had said ex.

"Kind of," I
said, fiddling around with my glass. I looked up at Jackson with a small smile.
"We were together a long time and everyone expected us to end up together,
including me."

"So what
changed?" Jackson was looking at me intently and it was hard not to squirm
under his scrutiny.

"Me, I
guess." I sighed, taking another sip of my vodka tonic. "It's not
even that I really changed. I always knew that my ex and I were destined to
lead a dull life together. I guess at a certain point I just accepted it. But
after a while I realized it wasn't enough."

"How long were you
together?"

I bit my lip, not
wanting to get into this, but Jackson seemed more than a little interested in
the topic. "Since we were fifteen."

Jackson leaned back in
his chair with an unreadable expression on his face. "That's a long
time."

I nodded. "It is.
But we were more friends than anything else for most of that time. It was comfortable."

"Did you think you
were going to marry him?"

I tightened my grasp on
my glass. "Isn't it bad form to talk about exes during a date?" I
asked with a weak laugh.

Jackson smiled but he
looked a little tense. "I'm curious. Is that okay?"

"It's okay,"
I replied. "It's just not a topic I love talking about. Sean, my ex, and I
were engaged." I swallowed hard. "Actually, I broke off the
engagement about a month before the wedding."

It was hard for me to
admit that, especially to Jackson. I didn't want him to think badly of me. As
much as I was relieved that I had escaped before making the biggest mistake of
my life, I wasn't ignorant to the fact of how much I had hurt someone that I
cared about. Sean hadn't deserved me embarrassing him in front of all our
family and friends. My mistake had been letting it get to the point of having
to cancel a wedding. We should have broken up years ago.

Jackson's face had
darkened and I tensed. I was afraid that his opinion of me had been lowered by
my confession.

"I know how it
sounds," I started, wanting to fill the awkward silence. "Trust me, I
never thought I would be that girl. It sounds so callous and selfish. But...I
just couldn't go through with it."

Jackson shook his head.
"It's not that. The last thing you should do is get married to the wrong
person, no matter what the consequences are of calling it off." He sighed,
running his hand through his hair. "I know it sounds crazy but the thought
of you engaged to someone else...it doesn't make me feel good."

I bit my lip, not
knowing what to say. I felt my heart squeeze at the words he was saying to me,
at the way he was looking at me. The way he was acting didn't feel like a
fling.

"I know we've
known each other for less than a week, but I think we have something special
here. I guess the thought of you being serious enough with someone else to
almost marry him, even if it was before we met, doesn't sit well with me."
Jackson gave me a faint smile. "I hope that doesn't make me sound like
some crazy possessive guy."

I shook my head.
"No, I understand what you mean. But I...I thought you weren't looking for
anything serious."

Jackson frowned.
"What made you think that?"

I wasn't sure Claire
would appreciate me telling Jackson that she had warned me about him so I just
shrugged.

"I don't know. I
guess I just assumed we were having fun."

Jackson's frown grew
more pronounced. "Is that what you want? To just have fun?"

I paused, not knowing
how to answer. After the debacle with Sean, I had told myself the last thing I
wanted was to get involved with another man. This was supposed to be my time to
figure out what I wanted to do with my life without the influence of a man. But
when that man was someone like Jackson...I wasn't sure he was someone I could
refuse.

"Well, initially I
wasn't looking for anything serious..." I looked up at Jackson, smiling.
"Things change, I guess. It's not every day I meet someone who can whip up
a mean chicken marsala."

Jackson's smile in
response to my answer was dazzling and I felt a physical ache in my chest. I
had a feeling that getting involved with Jackson would be riskier than packing
up all my belongings and moving to New York. But it was a risk I was willing to
take.

The mood was lightened
as the waiter brought our first courses out. Each course was more delicious
than the next. We fell over each other talking, as if we couldn't say enough to
each other. There seemed to be so much to learn about Jackson and he seemed to
feel the same way about me. He told me about different casting calls he had
been on and how he and Nathan met when Nathan had done a short stint as a set
designer on a play Jackson had been in. It felt natural to tell Jackson about
my life in D.C. although I tried to keep Sean out of the conversation.