Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay (17 page)

“Sure, take your time,” he lingered at the door. “Perhaps then we’ll forgo coffee and just get dinner. We can go down to that sports bar.”

I laughed. “The sports bar is the best you can do? I almost died Jordan. I want something amazing.”

He smirked and chuckled. “How did I know you’d say that?” He paused. “I just didn’t want to make it seem like too much of a date, especially when your ex-boyfriend just tried to kill you and your roommate. It seemed presumptuous.”

I pursed my lips. “Screw him. I want a date.” I gave him a wink. My number one priority at this moment was to put it all behind me, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

“Well, then, I guess it’s Aujourd’hui, then,” he said it as though he knew French.

I raised my eyebrows. “You want to take me there? I was thinking a step above bar food, not complete French, but I’ll take what I can get.” I smiled. It had been a dream of mine to go to Aujourd’hui just once, but I never had the money.

“I may be a bit under-dressed but…”

“Wait,” I walked over to Amy’s closet. Amy had gone to the hospital with the cops, the cut on her face in need of stitches. “She has men’s clothing in here, I swear.”

He tilted his head and gave me a strange look. “How did I guess.”

I laughed, making light of the situation. “Don’t think she’s going to acquire much more now. She may turn into a nun after today.”

I opened the door on the right hand side, the party side, fishing through toward the back where shirts and slacks were draped in laundry bags. Amy had a thing for keeping men’s clothing as a sort of souvenir, though I never quite understood what the men wore home.

“What size are you?” I looked him up and down, and I swear I saw him blush.

“A 34 should be fine.”

I fished through each, finding the extensive collection somehow appalling. “Here,” I pulled a black suit and held it before him, “This will work fine.”

He shrugged. “I guess I got into Harvard on charisma alone. And as far as Aujourd’hui goes, it doesn’t matter when you only go at closing and you’re alone. There’s no one to impress other than tired waiters and burnt out chefs.”

“I see. Well, there’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” I started to close Amy’s closet, but then an idea came to mind. My dress selection was rather bland, and in the spirit of the night, I felt like pretending to be someone else. I opened the door once more, fishing through her evening wear until I finally found a black dress with capped sleeves, the only tasteful one in the bunch. I looked at my bruises and then back at the dress, finally deciding that I really didn’t care. I had makeup, after all. I pulled the dress from the rack before fumbling through her shoes, finding a pair of black heels to match.

I blew a few thick strands of hair from my face as I stood, looking at Jordan.

“Er… where should I dress?” He was standing in the middle of the room like a lost boy.

“Oh, just dress here. I don’t care. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I waved him away, trying to make him comfortable, though I doubted there was little I could do.

He continued to stare with a nervous look on his face.

“Here, I’ll turn around if that makes it easier.” I faced the wall as I began to undress, relieved to get out of these clothes. I could sense the fact that he hadn’t turned around as fast as I had, and there had been a moment there where I felt him watching me, and I smirked.

I stripped down to my underwear and pulled the dress from the hanger, pulling it up over my hips, as it fit snug. I looked over my shoulder, catching him in his boxers as he pulled on the pants. He didn’t notice me so I continued to stare, watching as his muscles flexed, his arms fighting with the pants.

His skin was tanned and dappled with freckles, his hair curling ever so slightly as it lay against the nape of his neck. My gaze trailed down his back where I narrowed my eyes to look closer, admiration now replaced with alarm. There was a bruise across his side that swallowed his abdomen from his belly button to the base of his spine, as though he’d been beat to the ground and kicked repeatedly. Perhaps he’d gotten it at the party after I passed out, though his face seemed unscathed. Things had gotten so hectic in the past few days that I never found the time to talk to him about what had really happened.

“What is that from?” I turned, revealing the fact I had been looking as I walked up to him. He covered himself with his hands, the pants now buttoned though he seemed shy as though any inch of skin was like being naked. I, on the other hand, had no reason to be shy.

I ran my hand across the bruise as he winced away, my touch tickling his skin. “Does it hurt in your gut?” I was analyzing him in a medical manner, making sure there wasn’t any internal bleeding.

He blinked and turned away to grab his shirt, pulling it over his shoulders as he buttoned it, ending the conversation. I took it as his way of telling me to stay out of his business, but if he thought I was going to ignore it all together, he was wrong. He played with the collar, not sure what to do.

“Here.” I walked up to him and unbuttoned the top button, ruffling the collar to give him a relaxed yet sophisticated look since I didn’t have a tie for him, but I liked it that way. From my desk I grabbed some of my own hair gel and rubbed it in my hands, running my fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes, as though he had rarely been touched by another person.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” I grabbed his chin and made him look at me so that I could inspect my work.

His eyes searched mine. “No.”

I smiled, holding back a laugh as I sensed it may come across as rude. “Never?” I was a little surprised. I figured someone as handsome as him would have had at least one.

He shook his head. “It never worked out for me to have one. I, uh…” he paused. “…traveled a lot as a kid.” He put his hands in his pockets.

I dropped the subject as I grabbed a bottle of cover-up and began smearing it on my arm, walking to the mirror to give him some space. Jordan watched me as I reached to get the back of my shoulder, straining my arm. In the reflection of the mirror, I saw him grab the bottle off the desk, putting some on his hand and walking up behind me.

“Here, let me help.” I felt his eyes on me as though an artist at work, taking in every inch of my beauty as his cold palms met my skin, making me shiver.

He stepped back and smiled as he inspected my back, rubbing the rest of the cover-up on a towel that hung near the door. “There, all gone.”

There was an awkward moment of silence before I spoke. “Well, are you ready?”

He nodded and grabbed the coat from my bed and hooked it under his arm, making sure to keep his hands safely tucked in his pockets as we left the room and made our way to the parking lot. Once in the car, it was easy to get to the restaurant, suggesting Aujourd’hui was more than just a place he went from time to time, but a frequent hang out.

“You come here a lot, don’t you?” I looked at him as he shut off Amy’s car. We took the car figuring she wouldn’t care, especially considering all Jordan had done for her.

“Yes.” He jingled the keys in his hand.

“So the scruffy hero has a sophisticated hideout.”

He shrugged. “Small luxuries, is all. When your life is like mine, it’s nice to know you always have a place to go, where things are played in a orderly fashion.”

I felt sadness for Jordan. Such loneliness. There was a guarded air around him, something I had sensed from the beginning, as though his life didn’t matter nor didn’t count, as though there was no one but him in his world, both body and soul. I was envious of his secret life, and I felt now that I wanted to be in it as well; the only two souls on this planet.

I unbuckled and got out of the car and I walked up beside him, hooking my arm in his as he looked down at me. I did not look back, letting him know with that simple gesture that I was here; that he was not alone. We walked to the restaurant in silence, the sounds of the city acting as our sole entertainment. When we got to the door I finally spoke. “Excuse me for saying this, but I feel sort of funny being here.”

“Why is that?”

I shrugged. “It’s just so fancy.”

He looked at me. “It’s only fancy if you think of it that way. Think of it as though you’re at home, that everything in the restaurant is something you’ve missed. Besides, I thought you wanted to eat someplace fancy.” There was a hint of reproach to his voice.

I felt bad for a moment, as though I’d gotten him all dressed up for nothing. I shook my head. “No, I do! I’m just not used to it like you clearly are.”

He looked down at his clothes. “Well, I’m not used to this, if it makes you feel any better. Bit uncomfortable, really. Never thought I’d see the day.”

I let out a sharp breath. “What! You look great. Like a secret agent that’s taking the night off to take his female conquest to dinner.”

I walked into the lobby and sent him a sly look over my shoulder. “Actually, for the most part, I don’t act this way. I just feel like you’re different, that you won’t laugh or think I’m being childish.”

He looked down at his feet with a smirk on his face. “I’m likely the last person to think those things about you.”

I thought about the man in my dreams then, as his eyes met mine, the fog of it clearing as though trying to replace it with Jordan.

The low music of the restaurant muffled the sounds of the city outside. “Well hello, Jordan.” The blonde hostess was looking at him with shining eyes. She clearly had a crush. “You seem different.” She looked at him sideways, eyeing me as well.

She gave him a smile, as though complimenting the fact that he was finally bringing a date, even though that date wasn’t her. “Right this way.”

She sat us at a table that was out of the way toward the back, a table he clearly seemed to own. We both sat and I tried my best to remain polite, though it was hard for me. Growing up, I was used to pizza parlor dinners and home cooking, hardly ever fancy restaurants. It was then I decided to test his theory, treating each thing around me as though a part of my home, and things became easier and I relaxed.

I watched the waitress walk away. “So, how do you make your money?” The question was blunt, but I was burning with curiosity.

He let a sharp breath pass his lips as I watched his mouth curl. “Investing.”

I nodded, finding his answer vague and unassuming, an obvious cover up for a real reason that was surely unsavory. I chuckled under my breath. “So tell me, are you involved in the mafia, or anything like the mafia, because I don’t really think I want to be a part of that.”

I could see through his veil of secrecy. “That all sounds good, but I still don’t buy it. I want the truth. If you tell me the truth, I’ll tell you something about myself that will even the playing field. Promise.”

He nodded. “Alright then…”

I cut him off. “I knew it. You were lying.”