Chapter Two- And the Award for Creep of the Year Goes to...

I was going to be late for my first date in pretty much forever. It was typical really, since I should never have told Frankie about it. Both he and my dad were cops, though my dad had retired the year before Frankie started, which was a good idea for them both since the two of them argued about everything- from what we ate for dinner to what we should watch on our Wednesday movie nights. The one thing that the two of them could always manage to agree on however, was being overprotective of me, and now that I was all grown up it was getting a little bit old.

My dad usually dealt with the idea of me going out with a man with fake indifference. On the outside he would play the cool, relaxed father, but the last time I'd gone on a date- in my junior year of college, I saw him patrolling the outside of the restaurant in his police car. Maybe he was so worried about me because of what had happened to my mom, and I adored him for it despite the fact that it was beginning to get a little tedious. Still I'd neglected to tell him about tonight's little excursion.

My brother Frankie, on the other hand, was even worse- because he did his very best to sabotage any chance I had to make a good impression. Back in college he'd thought it would be funny to put crazy glue in my nail polish so I'd stick to everything I'd touched for the next 10 minutes. I'd gone to the local pizzeria with Chad, my date, with the nail polish brush still glued to my fingernails. Needless to say he hadn't asked me out after that, especially after he learned that my father was the same local police officer who was casing the place for no apparent reason.

It was hard to get angry at them though, since I knew that they were only doing it because they loved me and wanted what was best for me. Ever since my mother passed away from cancer when I was 13, it was as if they didn't want me out of their sight, even for a second. In some ways, I hadn't wanted to leave them either, since dad was a disaster for a long time before he got back on his feet. I'd gone to the local college and then had gotten a job nearby just to stay by his side. And even though Frankie had made it his life mission to make me miserable when we were kids, I couldn't imagine a life without him either- at least that was how I usually felt. Now, pulling out the dress I was planning on wearing on my date from the drier, I was appalled to find that it had been died blue with ink from a pen Frankie had left in his uniform pocket the night before. At least this time his sabotage hadn't been intentional.

"Really, Frankie," I cried in misery. "How many times have I told you to check your pockets before throwing your clothes in the laundry?"

I threw the dress on the floor in a crumpled heap, stepping on it a few times for good measure. I didn't have much in the way of date-appropriate clothes, and that dress was one Anna had helped me pick out a few months ago. Now I had no idea what to wear, with less than 6 minutes before I'd need to leave for the restaurant.

I heard the sound of Frankie's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs after me until his head peaked out from the basement door.

"What's going on Leigh? You're screaming bloody murder down here."

"Only another piece of clothing you've destroyed by not clearing out your pockets like I asked you to, and now I've got T minus 5 minutes before I will be officially late for my date with Paul Sheffield from work," I whined, smacking him on the arm.

"Paul Sheffield? As in the son of your boss? How did you wrangle a date with him?" Frankie asked, following after me while I ran up the stairs to my bedroom so I could look for a suitable alternative. He stood at my doorway, watching as I threw outfit after outfit on my bed in an attempt to change quickly.

"Thanks so much for your vote of confidence," I answered with a roll of my eyes.

Finally I decided on a light blue sweater set with a black pencil skirt I'd gotten on sale at Macy's. It was hardly as nice as my dress but it would do in a pinch. I knew that Anna wouldn't approve, saying with surety that it lacked the sex appeal I'd need to win Paul over, but I felt comfortable in it- and comfort meant confidence.

"I thought you said he was, and I quote, too impossibly good-looking to ever consider me as a potential life partner," he said while imitating my voice obnoxiously.

"Anna buttered him up for me, if you must know," I retorted, pushing him out of the room while I changed quickly. I wasn't quite sure if I hated or loved Anna for the effort she'd put in warming Paul up to inviting me out to dinner. She hadn't told me the details, and had actually implied that it had been his idea in the first place- but I knew the truth. I doubted Paul Sheffield even knew what I looked like before he'd waltzed into my cubicle and asked me out.

No, it was Anna who had set things up, no doubt using her impeccable charm and a bat of her pretty eyelashes to get him to do what she wanted. Not that I could complain about it really, since I'd gotten what I'd wanted too, after all. Still it was a little blow to my already pint-sized ego that I wasn't able to round up a date on my own without her help.

"Why didn't you just ask him yourself?" Frankie wondered, echoing my own thoughts through the door. Since I'd finished getting ready I poked my head out to stare at him, annoyed.

"I would have mustered up the courage eventually. Anna just beat me to it."

At the mention of Anna's name Frankie sighed like a schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since I'd introduced the two of them at our Thanksgiving dinner the year before, since Anna didn't have any family nearby, my brother had been smitten.

Catching a glimpse of the clock in the hallway I practically yelped as I noticed the time. Without wasting another minute I ran out the door towards my little, white Corolla and hopped in the driver's seat, Frankie at my heels.

"Good luck little sister. You know who to call if he's anything less than a perfect gentleman," he said, and I couldn't help but grin at him despite the fact that I was a little frustrated.

"Thanks Frankie- and please don't tell dad where I am. You know he'll show up," I begged before driving off quickly towards the restaurant. Thanks to my dad and Frankie, I always knew where the police speed traps were, and it was usually pretty easy for me to avoid them while making it to La Papillon Rose, one of the nicest restaurants in town.

I had to admit that I preferred eating in local dives to fine dining establishments- give me a juicy burger with all the fixings over a chincy plate of fillet mignon any day, though Paul struck me as a bit of a fitness nut. I doubted he'd enjoy the Burger Hut's basket combo, complete with onion rings and a vanilla shake as much as I did. Besides, Anna had assured me that it would be good for me to get a 'genuine date experience,' and after all the effort she'd put in to give me the chance I could hardly say no.

I hoped that Paul wasn't a stickler for time, because I was a few minutes late. Frankly I was happy I'd managed to arrive as quickly as I did.

I rushed into the restaurant, and as soon as I walked through the door I was nearly blinded by the golden chandeliers with crystals hanging from the bottom and refracting the light in a million different directions. Once my eyes had adjusted to the change in light I spied Paul in a corner table, sipping on a glass of white wine like he was the king of the world. For the moment, he was certainly the king of mine, and my heart fluttered with the knowledge that he was there waiting for me.

I took a deep breath before heading further into the dining lounge. The poor hostess didn't even know what was coming as I awkwardly barreled past her to my table, and I had practically reached where Paul was before she figured out I was supposed to be meeting him there. Maybe she didn't think someone like me was worthy of being his date for the night, considering she played the part of the perky-blonde-hostess-with-killer-legs-in-a-short-s kirt like nobody's business. To be fair, she looked a lot more like someone who Paul should be dating than I did, so I felt a rush of pride when I remembered he was sitting there for me. It was something I'd imagined since I'd seen him the very first time at the law firm, and now it was coming true.

What I hadn't predicted, in any of the wild fantasies I'd managed to conjure up in one of my daydreams, was the incredible way I managed to trip over the purse strap of the person sitting at the table right next to the one I was aiming for. I felt like that stereotypical character in the movies, like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed on her first day going back to high school- hopelessly embarrassed and clearly out of place as I flew threw the air before landing flat on my face.

I could hear the wash of silence as the whole restaurant turned to look at me in my pathetic position, sprawled out on the ground like an octopus stuck on shore after being thrown there by a giant wave- my legs and arms in complete shambles around me.

Mortified, I clambered back to me feet, praying to anyone who would listen that Paul hadn't noticed- that by some miracle he hadn't seen what had just happened.

Still, I should have known better. The look in his eyes said nothing short of 'great, now I have to eat dinner with the girl who just wiped out in front of everyone.' Perhaps I was hoping that he would be a gentleman and offer to help me to my feet, but that would have been right out of a hallmark movie. Men in real life didn't do that, and if they did I'd yet to see it happen. Given my track record of unfortunate falls over the past several years of my life, statistically I would have had to have met at least one gentleman by now.

Yet alas, there was no help in sight as I brushed myself off from the embarrassment and sat down on the red, cushioned chair across from Paul.

"That was graceful," I muttered apologetically to the lawyer, who appeared more annoyed than amused at my antics. I couldn't even manage to be endearing in my clumsiness-typical.

I knew I must have been beat red, so I kept my head down low, covering my blush with my hair, which hung in brown tendrils in front of my face. Anna was going to kill me, and that was if I didn't kill me first. All the confidence I'd felt had instantly disappeared into the floor.

"Are you alright?" Paul asked, and I was happy he at least had the decency to try and put what had just happened behind us, even if I couldn't.

"Yeah, I'm fine- only mortified for all eternity," I said, laughing at myself in hopes that I could lighten the awkward mood.

"Are you hungry?" he wondered politely, and I nodded, quite ready to accept the menu he had in his hand. Yet before I had the chance to decide what I wanted he beckoned for the waiter.

"We'll each have the special please, and a glass of your best white for her please," he ordered confidently. I held off the urge to narrow my eyes. I had no idea what the special was, and if he'd bothered to ask me first he might have learned that I disliked alcohol in all of its forms- not that I had anything against drinking of course, I just didn't think it tasted very good and so the calories weren't worth it.

I didn't, however, have a problem wolfing down the gourmet bread the waiter had put on the table on his next passing- I always liked it when they gave you that flavored olive oil to dip it in. I was annoyed that Paul had ordered for me, especially since I'd no clue what the 'special' was and was far too embarrassed to ask. I was sure it would be fine, as long as it wasn't shellfish since I was allergic, mildly, but still- I was a grown woman and more than capable of reading a menu, regardless of how masculine my date wanted to appear.

We conversed a little, though we didn't stray beyond the typical questions one normally asked on a date.

"How's your job?"

"Fine. Are you keeping busy?"

"Yes, the law firm keeps you on your toes. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One brother. He's a cop. What about you?"

It was obvious that the date wasn't going well, my grand entrance may or may not have had anything to do with it, and I wasn't making any headway. It was beginning to seem like despite Anna's grand efforts this was going to be my first and last date with god-like Paul Sheffield.

Dinner arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared to be a nicely stuffed chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and seasoned veggies.

We were silent as we ate, and I had to admit the meal was excellent, despite the fact I wasn't quite sure what the chicken was stuffed with. It seemed that Paul wanted to ask me something though, since his brows were knitted together in thought- a habit I'd picked up on at the law firm. Finally, after taking an especially large bite of his chicken, he cleared his throat, obviously prepared to say what was on his mind.

"Is your friend Anna seeing anyone right now?" he wondered. I had to fight to stop the piece of chicken I was actively chewing from falling out of my mouth in shock. I was beginning to feel a little faint and more than a little insulted.

"Is that why you agreed to go out with me?" I asked after swallowing my food. I intended on keeping my voice light, but I didn't think I'd been very successful.

"To be honest, I thought it would help me learn more about her. She's pretty mysterious, and you're the only one she associates with at the office," he admitted. At least he was honest, though the knowledge didn't do much for my sanity.

I scratched at a pervasive itch on my arms as I fought back the words that I really wanted to say but that wouldn't be appropriate for a public place.

"Well Paul, I'd love to help you out and all, but Anna insists she's seeing someone. Tough luck," I said, more disappointed than annoyed now- and really hurt, too. I tried not to let things like this bother me, but sometimes it was too hard to worry about keeping my feelings in. Plus, I was pretty convinced I had hives, since the pervasive itch on my arms had quickly spread all over my body and I noticed the red splotches begin to appear all over my arms. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Look I'm sorry to drag you out here and all, but I thought it would make her happy because she asked me to and all," he continued, digging his hole deeper than a grave. I wasn't sure if my shortness of breath was because of my anger or allergic reaction, but either way I was pretty sure I needed to get out of the restaurant pronto.

"What's in the special Paul?" I demanded.

"Pardon?" he wondered, confused by my question.

"The 'special!' What did you order me?"

"It's chicken stuffed with tomatoes and tartinade," he replied innocently. Indignant, I stood up, collecting my purse and pushing in my chair.

"Just a helpful note. Next time you try and be manly enough to order your date some food, you might want to check if she has allergies first,"

Tartinade had anchovies in it, and while not strictly a shellfish, it had some of the same proteins that gave me a negative reaction. Luckily, I had some Benadryl in the car, left over from the last time something like this had happened, and I had no reason to stay any longer. Paul could pick up the check. He could certainly afford it.

I guzzled the medicine right away and rested my head on the steering wheel of the car. If that date was any more of a disaster it would have been the Titanic. I couldn't believe how excited I'd been to finally go out with Paul Sheffield. He was an enormous let down- not nearly as charismatic in close quarters as he was in the law firm. Really, he was a little boring and overbearing, two traits which I didn't find attractive in the slightest. The fact that he had absolutely no interest in me, and was only going out with me for the sake of my gorgeous friend was the real kicker, though not surprising. I knew this night had been too good to be true even before it started, and I was ashamed at the fairy tale ending I'd imagined for myself.

With a groan, I knew I didn't want to go home. Frankie would want to know what happened, and if I told him the truth I knew he'd be furious and cause trouble like he usually did. I could lie and say Paul'd been called away on an urgent case, but that would be pathetic and would raise too many questions about why we hadn't rescheduled- questions I didn't want to have to answer.

No, I needed a way to kill time until I could safely return home without worrying about Frankie and my father judging me on my failure. I didn't think I was in a good place to drive either, angry and pulsing with Benadryl, so I got out of the car and started walking.

I wasn't worried about the danger, since I was in a really nice part of town, and continued on along the same stretch of road for about a half an hour until I arrived at an Irish pub that appeared to be rather quiet despite the time of night on a weekend. Thinking that it might be nice to get a soda to wash down the taste of medicine in my mouth, I went inside and up to the bar- not caring in the slightest that the hives on my throat and arms were still lingering. I was beginning to feel a little better though, and they weren't itching as much. I was glad I hadn't eaten a lot of that chicken, and that my allergy wasn't severe- otherwise I would have been in big trouble. To be fair though, I could only blame myself for not being brave enough to ask him what he'd ordered.

Thankfully though, the pub's ambiance was dark so my slowly retreating hives weren't as noticeable. The Drake and Firkin was decorated really traditionally, with large keg barrels lined up to the ceiling and memorabilia from England and Ireland placed on the walls messily. I liked the place though, since it felt comfortable somehow- definitely a lot more that the French restaurant had.

I went up to the bar, earning a cautionary look from the bartender as I ordered a diet soda. He probably noticed the hives. When it arrived I sipped it quickly, relishing in the refreshing sweetness of the aspartame. I knew it was bad for me, but I didn't really care. Every girl's allowed her vices.

There were only a handful of people inside. A couple at a booth in the corner, whispering quietly to one another over the dulcet tones of Sinead O'Connor, a few old men playing pool at the table in the center of the room and one man, considerably younger sitting close to where I was, though his gaze seemed fixated on something in the opposite direction. He actually seemed pretty tense.

At first, I was resolved to ignore everyone around me and just drink my soda in peace, until it was a time that I deemed safe enough to return home and avoid Frankie and my dad's scrutiny. I would be in for it anyway, but I would be better equipped to handle it after I'd gotten some rest and the chance to cool down.

Noticing some pretzels over by the other man at the bar, I was reminded that I hadn't really got the chance to finish my dinner, and I was still pretty hungry.

"Excuse me," I said, not wanting to disturb him since he seemed to be in thought intently, his head still turned away from me- tension clear by the stiff way he held himself. I couldn't see his face, but he was fair-haired and wearing a casual suit in the color of soft, butter cream- lord I needed those pretzels. All I could think about was food.

"Sorry to bother you sir, but would you mind passing those pretzels over here?"

He didn't reply, so I assumed he hadn't heard me. I tried again. I would have tried the bartender if he weren't already delivering drinks to the men playing pool.

"Hey, do you think you could pass those pretzels this way?" I asked again, noticing a definite twitch in his demeanor. He had definitely heard me, and was ignoring me on purpose. I didn't know why, since all I'd wanted were some stupid pretzels, and he wasn't eating them anyway.

For some reason, the knowledge of being slighted by yet another member of the opposite sex threw me over the edge. Usually I was pretty good at brushing this kind of thing off. People were often rude after all, and I didn't want them to spoil my day. Maybe it was because my day was already a complete disaster that the feelings of rebuked annoyance that had been smoldering in my conscious since I'd left the restaurant blew up into righteous indignation. Angrily, I got off of my bar stool and onto a proverbial soap box, getting close enough to the man that I could grab that snack.

"Look buddy! I know you can hear me, but since passing the pretzels over here seems to be a bit beyond your capabilities, maybe you'd do me the favor of answering some questions for me. Is there something about me that you find repulsive? Do I disgust you in some way that I'm just not perceiving? Because you are not the first guy today to give me the cold shoulder and I'm really keen on knowing what it is about me that men seem to find so unappealing! I swear it's like something on this planet has it in for me!"

Taking a hearty handful of pretzels I stared him down, though for some reason he still refused to look at me despite the fact that it seemed he was struggling not to do so.

"Have you considered that your attitude might be putting them off?" he wondered sarcastically, and I had to admit it was a fair point, though I had approached him very courteously at first and so it wasn't an excuse for his behavior. I wanted to scream in protest at his words, but thought against it when I noticed that everyone in the bar was staring at me now- everyone except for the man I was addressing.

Instead of retorting, since I knew I was behaving ridiculously, I shoved the pretzels in my mouth and took one last swig of my Diet Pepsi before leaving money on the table to pay for it.

As I made to leave the bar I was stopped by a hand grabbing my arm far more forcefully than I would have liked. I spun around on my heels to see, for the first time, the face of the man I'd just yelled at in public.

To say I was shocked would have been a vast understatement. I'd long since decided that a man more attractive that Paul Sheffield was a statistical impossibility, and were he not glaring down at me angrily I had a feeling that this guy could prove me wrong a thousand times over. I think it was his eyes, their color an indistinguishable blur in the dimness of the bar.

I'd been a sucker for eyes ever since Beauty and the Beast as a kid- that moment when Belle looks in the prince's eyes to learn he was the same as her beloved Beast really spoke to me I guess. Now eyes were the first things that I noticed about a guy, as cliche as it was- though Paul's had certainly steered me wrong.

"Look I'm sorry I yelled at you. It's just been a rough day." He just stared at me some more without given any explanation for his actions.

"What do you want?" I demanded with a shake of my head. I needed to pull myself together.

"You said you thought something was against you, and you were right," he said, his voice barely a whisper but it resonated within me all the same. I noticed it was a little accented, but I couldn't place it.

"Is that a threat?" I asked, barely able to contain the anger in my voice.

"It's a warning. Go home and stay there Leigh, you aren't safe alone any longer. You haven't the luxury to be fooling around like this."

I looked at him incredulously, temporarily forgetting how hot he was in favor of my complete confusion at the line our conversation had taken.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're really creepy do you know that? And if you don't let go of my arm I'm going to call the cops."

Pursing his lips, he let go of my arms, but not my gaze, and I still felt just as much like his prisoner. There was something about those eyes that troubled me, I just couldn't figure out what it was. I knew however, that it wasn't fear- even though there was definitely something about him that could inspire it, he didn't make me feel afraid of him.

The whole walk back to the car I felt uncomfortable though, like something or someone was watching me. I figured it was probably paranoia after what the man had said to me, but I couldn't shake it-turning around to check behind me more than once to see if I was being followed. It was definitely an end to the evening that I hadn't anticipated or even wanted.

It wasn't until I was safely inside the Corolla, my key in the ignition, that I recalled our conversation- realizing only then something that lurched at my insides.

He had called me by my name.

A/N: Happy Saturday! Thanks so much to all who reviewed this story. It's been really fun to write so far, since the setting's so different than what I'm used to. It is still definitely a fairy tale though, and that element is fast approaching so never fear.

Also, for anyone who thinks Leigh's fall in the restaurant could never have actually happened I beg to differ. It has happened to me- though I was not on a date at the time, it was still mortifying.