Chapter Three

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I woke up—too early for my taste—to the sound of my phone buzzing, Patch's name appearing on the screen. I fumbled around for the answer button, finally placing it groggily against my ear. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Angel," he said cheerily.

"Why didn't you come see me in my dreams last night?" I pouted.

"I didn't want to bother you at Vee's," he told me.

"I came home last night," I said, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Vee's grounded. Her mom kicked me out at like 10."

"I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise. I'll pick you up at seven. I have a surprise planned. Wear something nice—we are going to celebrate our anniversary in style."

I paused, the words registering. "Wait, what anniversary?" I asked, but the click on the end of the line told me Patch had hung up. Climbing out of bed, I racked my brain to think of any date of importance. But it'd been 8 months, more or less, since we met…no one celebrated 8 months. I wasn't about to let Patch know I'd forgotten something, though, so I intended to play along.

Pulling on a sweatshirt as a guard against the cool morning air, I shuffled downstairs and folded myself into a chair at the kitchen table. My mom was already in the kitchen, preparing coffee. "Want some?" she asked, holding up a mug.

"No, thanks," I responded. Instead, she pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and brought over my favorite cereal and milk. After everything that had happened these past few months, my mom had been taking care of me like a child again. I appreciated it, really, but it did sometimes get a little patronizing.

"Do you want to go shopping today?" she asked me, unfolding the newspaper and perusing the front page.

"Yeah, actually," I said. I mentally flicked through my wardrobe and realized I probably didn't have much Patch would consider "nice." "I kind of need something for tonight."

"Oh?" my mom questioned. "What's tonight?"

I focused on my cereal for a moment. "Patch is taking me out. It's sort of our…anniversary."

Thankfully my mom didn't ask me anniversary of what. "Where are you planning on going?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"It's a surprise."

"Fine. But if I don't know where you are going your curfew is going to have to be 11:00 then."

"Mom!" I protested. "That's so early!"

"Nora…" she started warningly.

"But…we were going to meet up with Vee later," I said, thinking on my feet. "She wanted us to come to a concert with her…she sort of has a thing with the guitarist. I can't let her go alone!"

For a second I thought my mom was going to call my bluff, but she sighed. "Well, I suppose if you are with Vee…Goodness knows that girl needs someone watching her, sometimes. Midnight, then?"

"One o'clock," I countered.

"12:30."

"Deal." We both cracked a smile.

"Well, go get dressed and we'll head to the mall. What kind of outfit do you think you want?"

With a shrug, I replied, "I don't really know. Patch just told me to dress fancy."

"Well, we'll find something Patch will approve of." She still smiled, but her voice was tight. I could tell she was trying, but she still didn't totally approve of my relationship with Patch.

The mall was crowded when we got there, making the day much more taxing than I would have liked. Still, after a few hours we had managed to find an outfit that I actually really liked. I had found a fitted black skirt and a deep blue blouse made out of a silky material. The sales person had shown me how to tuck it in and loosely drape it over the high waistband of the skirt—a look I had always admired but never tried to emulate. I had protested when it came time to check out and the total was more than $80, but my mother insisted, saying it was okay to splurge every once in a while.

"Besides," she added, "I'm sure there will be plenty special occasions coming up you can wear it to. Cost-per-wear, remember!" I hugged her gratefully and offered to buy us coffee, which she happily accepted.

It was already 2 o'clock by the time we got home, and the rest of the day seemed to slip by quickly. I started getting ready an hour early—a rare occurrence for me. After a long shower, I took pains with my uncooperative hair and forced it into a low ponytail swung over my shoulder. Nothing too fancy, but I thought it looked okay. I normally wore a little make-up, but I took extra time today to do the full look, thinking how proud Vee would be of me. Finally, slipping into my new outfit, I regarded my reflection and approved. I didn't look like I was trying to hard, but I didn't look like my normal self either. I thought I looked pretty, and maybe—maybe—a little sexy, though certainly not in the Marcie Millar kind of way.

The doorbell rang at precisely 7 o'clock. I hoped punctuality won some points with my mother. I flung it open with a smile on my face, and gasped as I saw Patch standing with his hands in his pockets, gazing out over the lawn.

Though Patch had told me to dress nicely, I hadn't expected him to follow. In all the months I'd known Patch, I'd rarely seen a variation in his attire. Tonight was different, however. He wore a tan jacket, navy shirt, and a tie—albeit with his trademark dark jeans. Still, he looked more like the Patch I'd imagined from long ago than I'd ever seen him.

"Angel," he purred as he turned around and took him my appearance. "You look amazing." He gazed at me in that intimate way only he could.

I blushed. "It's just a new outfit," I muttered, stepping aside.

"I didn't say anything about your outfit," he murmured, close to my ear. Our faces were just inches apart, and I placed a hand on his chest. "You're beautiful." He looked me up and down once more. "Though that outfit is extremely sexy." I tried to hide a smile as I reached up to kiss him, but Patch pulled away a second before out lips met.

"Hello, Patch," my mom said, appearing in the hallway behind us.

"Mrs. Grey," he responded, nodding his head slightly.

"You look nice," she said, a bit reluctantly. But I silently thanked her for being nice. "Both of you."

"Thanks, Mom. Well, we should probably be off," I said, trying to get us out of there as quick as possible.

"One moment. Care to tell me where you're going?"

Patch hesitated. "I wanted it to be surprise for Nora."

"Well, you don't have to tell her," my mom countered. "I just don't want to worry about her."

Patch took two long strides and whispered something in my mom's ear. Her eyes widened as she spoke, until she finally said, "That's very generous. I'm sure she will love that."

Patch smiled slightly. "And Mrs. Grey? You don't have to worry about Nora. I promise I won't let anything happen to her." His words were so blatantly earnest that even my mom's hard mask softened slightly, and she gave him a small smile.

"I'm her mom. It's my job to worry. But I do appreciate it."

I kissed my mom's cheek before grabbing Patch's outstretched hand and hurrying out the door. He walked me to my side of the car and opened it gallantly for me. "So, are you going to tell me where we are going now?" I asked as I climbed inside.

Patch laughed. "Let me explain to you how this surprise thing works…" I swatted at his arm, annoyed. "Angel, you need to learn to have a little patience. I promise this is a good surprise."
I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Don't pout," Patch said, laughter in his voice. He gave my knee an affectionate squeeze.

"I'm not pouting, just trying to guilt-trip you into telling me where we are going."
"It's not working," Patch replied easily, bringing my hand up to his mouth and giving it a soft kiss. "Let me have my fun."

Ten minutes later Patch pulled into a parking lot, and I gasped as I recognized the restaurant. It was a French restaurant, very chic and very expensive. I had told Patch once how nice I thought it looked, but it had been in passing and I was surprised he remembered.

Again, Patch opened the door for me and I grinned at his gentlemanly behavior. The restaurant was dimly lit and beautifully decorated, and I swear the waiters' uniforms were more expensive than my own outfit. Patch said a few words to the hostess and she led us back to a table in the corner of the restaurant. The room wasn't very big, and they had tried to cram as many tables in as possible, but somehow it still felt like Patch and I were alone in the restaurant.

"You like it?" he asked, his dark eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"It's perfect," I said, leaning over the table to kiss him.

He grinned as I pulled away. "And this is phase one."

"Wait, what?" I asked, but Patch's lips were sealed. I'd tried to protest that he'd already spent too much money on me, but he wouldn't hear it.

"Angel, what else am I going to spend my money on? Let me spoil you one night."

I sighed in resignation. "Fine. But no Christmas gift then."

"This isn't a negotiation, Angel," he laughed.

I squinted my eyes at him, but then softened. "Why are you doing all this, Patch?"

He grabbed my hands from across the table and brought them to his mouth, his lips brushing against my knuckles as he talked. "Ours hasn't really been a conventional relationship, Angel. I just wanted to give you one night that you might've had if you'd fallen in love with a normal guy."

"This is way nicer than what normal people do," I commented, then smiled softly at Patch. "But thank you."

He kissed my hands again. "You're everything to me, Angel."