Erin listened to every thought, every fear, every musing and every nervous word and gesture radiating off the young man beside her –her client. Over the span of two days, she argued his case, providing witnesses and past grievances to prove the defendant refused to sell a home to her client for the sole basis of being married to another young individual who happened to be of the same sex. Erin needed to win this, if not for her client, then for the simple fact of not letting hate or discrimination or bigotry win. Most of the lawyers at the firm she works at have years of experience under their belts, and most of those same lawyers, would call her naïve and guileless, sometimes going so far as to say the only reason she was hired in the first place is because she's the daughter of the president. Erin earned this position; she went above and beyond to prove herself by coming in to the office early, leaving late and volunteering to take the riskiest cases.
A passionate young woman with avid determination and fortitude that appeared every time she spoke in front of a judge or jury, defending the plaintiff and providing a voice to those who are silenced in society. She was a warrior in the courtroom; her words are sharp and her ability to pick apart the opposition's argument in order to shed light on their pernicious fallacy. And even though this wasn't her first case brought to trial, this case felt bigger than the others. This case, no one in her firm wanted to take on. This case, the entire firm saw as a lost cause with circumstantial evidence and some unreliable witnesses; this case, by winning it, will prove to the so called experienced lawyers that sometimes an open mind, a fresh perspective and a vibrant, compassionate and by their words a naïve personality can get the job done.
When the judge reads the verdict, she feels the world around her slow down. It pauses momentarily before resuming at normal speed. She sees the young man beside her shedding happy tears and his family behind him claps in support. She offered her hand, the maroon-painted, manicured nails wrapped around his hand and the grin on his face stretched wider. Her hand was soft, warm and comforting, and even though his hand was rough and sweaty from his nerves, she remained professional and kept her grip tight. For him, the handshake wasn't enough; he wraps both hands around her one and stands, "Ms. Voight, thank you," he pulls her to her feet and wraps her up in a warm swaddle against his chest and in his arms.
"You're welcome," she withdraws from the embrace just as his husband approaches, "Congratulations you two, and I hope you find that dream home of yours."
As the couple leaves to go face reporters, Erin remains behind, taking her time to stack her case files. She wanted to give everyone the opportunity to leave and purposefully took her time to get ready in order to do so. Erin grabs her briefcase and lays it down flat on the table, "I'll be done soon guys," she calls out to her guards as they continue to stand at the back of the courtroom, silently watching and waiting for her.
At the corner of her table her phone lights up and an instant smile stretches across her face. It's obvious who was texting her; she had told him this morning what time she would be finished for the day. And unsurprising to her, he remembered and had sent her a text a few minutes after the trial had ended. She shuts her briefcase and reaches for her phone, smiling softly at his message written across her screen, I found the perfect location for our second date tonight that matched the criteria we discussed over the phone two days ago; it's a 50s diner that's private, no paparazzi and it's away from the city on a side road in Virginia, -JH
Sounds great, -EV
Erin slid her cell into the pocket of her blazer and gripped the handle of her briefcase. She appeared proud and confident as she made her way through the short swinging doors separating one half of the courtroom from the other, "Ms. Voight," the defendant's lawyer shouts out, jogging over to approach. Her guards step in, creating a barrier between her and the opposing attorney, "Erin, can you please send your goons elsewhere? I come in peace."
"Guys it's fine," she whispered, maneuvering through the barrier they created with their bodies, "What do you want Landon?"
"I came to say congratulations."
"Thank you," and when she turns to leave once more, he calls out for her. She has a date tonight and now that she's off from work, she was ready to get home and prepare for it.
"You did great in there."
This earns her attention; Landon never compliments her. For as long as she's known him –since her first year of law school- he has never so much as praised anything she's done, at least not without wanting something in return.
Erin chuckled lightly and then smiled at his approval, "What do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything?"
She scratches her chin, "…maybe because that's the only time you ever compliment me."
"I disagree."
"You complimented me when we first met because you wanted a date."
"And you said no," he reminded.
"You complimented me once to see if I could get my dad to write a letter of recommendation for you."
"And you said no," he repeated.
"You complimented me after graduation to see if my dad could put in a good word for you at a few of the law firms you applied to."
"And you said no," he reiterated.
"Yet, you remain persistent."
Landon moves in closer, forcing her guards to take a step forward, meeting him halfway. He throws his hands up into the air, showing them that he means no harm as he continues to approach, "For the life of me, I'll never understand how you could turn me down, but I understand why you rejected me on my other requests. It's because I don't know your father and have never met him; I was making some pretty big demands back then, but this is different."
"And you were trying to lead me to believe that you didn't want anything."
"Be kind to me," he smirked.
"Depends on how you're trying to use me."
"I need a job."
"Last time I checked, you had one," she hands Sorensen her briefcase and approaches Landon, "or was I mistaken and the defendant had a different lawyer?"
"All I need for you to do is put in a good word for me."
Erin pulls her cell phone out of her pocket after it vibrates; her attention is drawn to it more than the conversation she's having with Landon and without further entertaining the conversation, she slowly starts to back away, smiling to herself as she reads Jay's message, How rude of me? I heard that you won your case; congratulations Erin, -JH
"Is that a yes?"
Erin smiles up at her guards as they hold the courtroom doors open for her, "I'll think about it." The doors shut behind her, "Kevin, I forwarded you the address of where my date will be tonight. That way you can check the surroundings, make phone calls and do what it is you usually do," he grins and shakes his head amusedly.
"It's a good thing you're not in charge of your safety."
There was a burst of laughter radiating from her; she pats the back of Atwater's shoulder, nudging him goofily as they walk out of the courthouse. It's a good day. The sun is shining above them, the media are interviewing the plaintiffs and she had a date with a nice guy tonight. Erin felt good. She felt really good. As she descended down upon the outside steps of the courthouse, the melody of her ringtone alerted the paparazzi of her presence. She felt Dawson's hand press against her lower back, guiding her through the swarm of people, "Hello," she answered.
"Hey kid," the rough, raspy nature of her father's voice vibrates through the phone.
"You heard the good news?"
"I did," he leans back in his leather seat, kicking his legs up and crossing them at his ankles, "I was calling for two reasons. One is to congratulate you."
"Thanks dad."
"And the second is to check in on you. I see your brother every day and I haven't heard from you since the state dinner."
Erin mouthed her thanks to Atwater as he opened the backseat door for her; she climbed in carefully and responded, "I'm fine. I've been a little busy so sorry about that," she buckles herself in and kicks off her heels, "Landon asked me for another favor today."
"Screw the guy; he only talks to you when he wants something from you."
Erin pulls her briefcase onto the leather seat. Sorensen had slid the carrycase into the backseat after she entered. And now as she opens it beside her and pulls out her next case file, she sets her phone down and puts the device on speaker, allowing her father's gruff voice to fill the inside of the car, "You know I'll be traveling to Japan in a few days. I'm inviting you."
She makes casual highlights along her case notes, "You know I can't come. You're supposed to extend the invitation to me either weeks or months in advance, not days' dad."
"You're my little sidekick," he chuckles, earning an annoyed roll of the eye from her.
"How about you take Olinsky?"
"He's the vice president," Voight reminds, waving for his assistant to enter the office, "there's security policies against traveling together. And besides, he's busy with his own duties."
"Take mom," she says it as if it's the most obvious choice.
"You and I both know your mother hates long flights, anything over six hours-"
"She starts to feel confined," Erin finishes.
The ride back to her place isn't the best; it's full of bumps, traffic and the excessive use of brakes as cars wildly weaved in and out of lanes. She rereads the last sentence in her case notes for the fifth time in a row, struggling to focus as her dad tells her about his press conference and the cars around her honk at each other. It's all distracting. All of the outside interference make it difficult for her to focus on work. And just as her dad poses his next question, "We're still on for our UK trip later this year, right?" she shuts the file and stuffs it back into her briefcase.
"Of course, even though technically it's not our UK trip because it's not a vacation, it's solely work-related, we're still on. Nothing will stop me from going."
"Good." A long pause of silence follows as he slowly nods; he signs a few documents and waves for his assistant to leave the room; this was his time with his daughter, "What are you doing today kid? Any plans to celebrate your win."
She chooses her words carefully, "I'm going out with a friend."
"Anyone I know?"
"Nope," just as Erin answers, the truck parallel parks in their assigned spot, "Dad, we just parked in front of my building. Can I give you a call later?"
"You live three blocks away, how about you just visit?"
"Tomorrow," she replies.
"I'll hold you to your word."
As she hangs up, she notices the back door is opened with her guards taking a protective stand in front of it. She slides her heels back onto her feet, grabs her briefcase and carefully steps out of the vehicle; Roman allows her to use his offered hand to ensure she didn't trip, "Thanks."
Atwater and Dawson lead the way with Roman and Sorensen taking up the rear, protectively observing their surroundings in order to ensure the first daughter remained safe. She's texting on her phone, nodding her thanks to the doorman as he holds the entrance door opened for her. She never got to respond to Jay's earlier message and when she simply types out, Thank you, -EV, she hits send moments afterwards.
Her legs carry her through the lobby and towards the elevator, stopping briefly only to wait for the doors to open. Sorensen presses the button for her; the highest floor of the entire building with access to the rooftop if wanted was the perfect size and location, according to her mother, for a young, successful, city girl. As the doors opened, the first thing her eyes are met with is a vase with a purple ribbon tied around the glass sitting on the carpeted floor outside of her condo. It's by no mistake they're there for her. Her door is the only door on this floor; she's the only person living here, and who can live on this floor.
Inside the vase are a dozen white lilies appearing to be real, bloomed and beautifully spread fully inside the expensive vase. She takes a step towards them, freezing momentarily as she looks astonishingly at them. Sorensen takes her briefcase from her hands and nods for her to approach and once she stoops low to smell the flowers, she notices a store bought card clipped to the back of the flowers, "A card is attached."
"We all know who they're from," Roman responds, using his spare key to unlock her door.
And while his words were true, she remained just as surprised when she saw his name etched out on the bottom of the card, below a message that reads, we haven't seen each other for almost a whole week, so I wanted to get you some flowers to let you know I do want this. I don't know your favorite color and I don't know your favorite flower, but I'll learn it one day. When I walked inside the florist shop –I managed to avoid the paparazzi so no one knows I was there, I should add- but when I walked inside, this sweet older lady helped me pick out the perfect flower. She said white lilies represented beauty, class and style; she said the white lily is the best flower to convey the message of telling someone I feel like I'm on cloud nine with you. Like I said Erin, I told you, I'm serious about this. –JH
For the first time, she lifts the entire vase, bringing the lilies towards her to smell their natural scent. With her eyes closed, it allows her sense of smell to completely kick in, inhaling the bloom of spring flowers that have fortunately been gifted to her. Atwater nudges her shoulder and smiles knowingly, "You certainly seem to have taken an interest in him."
"Is it that obvious?" She leads him inside and walks to set the vase down in the center of her dark walnut, rectangular shaped coffee table. The vase adds something to the décor; the cream colored ribbon wrapped around the glass of the vase matches her throw pillows cushioned on her light green sofa. She uses the tips of her fingers to adjust the lilies in the vase in order to spread them around evenly before inhaling another whiff of the flowers.
"It's as clear as day," Atwater answers, "Just be careful."
"Aren't I always?"
"He has quite the reputation," Roman refuted.
"I'm aware," Erin shrugs, mindlessly toying with the petals of the lilies, "it doesn't mean he can't change though. We all have the potential for change."
"Your optimism is endearing," Sorensen acknowledged.
And Erin simply smiled, soaking in the concerns and the compliments of her guys; she brushed her hands over her lap and maneuvered through them, "That's sweet of you to say, but on that note, I must get ready for my date tonight."
-x-
Throughout the week, Erin and Jay had stayed in contact, whether it was through social media, text messaging or phone calls, they didn't go long without speaking to the other. None of it was forced, it all came natural. From the good morning texts to their goodnight texts, it all became the norm in the span of one week. They had a routine; a pattern going with an understanding; if speaking on social media, their conversation remained platonic and steered more towards friendship. If privately speaking through text messages, phone calls or even direct message on a social media platform, there became a fine line between platonic and flirtation that they didn't mind crossing. It was all part of the courting process, a process that proved to be difficult when done between two well-known, publicized people in the country.
As the time for their date approached, Jay saw that he had anticipated it more impatiently than he would have guessed. He had been ready way in advance, and now to pass the time, he comfortably rested on the couch in his brother's hotel room, smiling as he read Erin's last message, I received the flowers you had delivered and I must say, they were absolutely beautiful; they were perfect Jay. And if I recall correctly, in your note you mentioned how you wanted to know my favorite flower, but I think since receiving your gift, I might have changed it, -EV
To what, -JH
White lilies if you haven't already guessed, -EV
I'm glad you liked them, -JH
Liked them, I loved them Jay, thank you, -EV
The longer he sat on the couch, watching time tick by slowly, the more impatient and anxious he grew. His foot is tapping against the multicolored hotel carpet; it's a clear sign of his nerves, but he didn't understand them. He didn't want to understand them. He was Jay Halstead, the lead singer and guitarist of a popular band in one of the greatest nations. This wasn't him. It wasn't like him to be nervous over a girl, especially one that he had already gone out with on a date.
There was no way Jay could remain sitting, watching the clock and waiting; it was no way. So, he swiftly swipes his leather jacket off the back of the armchair. He slid his arms through the sleeves and zipped the black jacket up before stuffing his hands into the pockets.
"Where are you going Jay?" His brother speaks up and earns the attention of Rixton. Both curious and both stare, waiting for an answer.
He lies easily, "I'm going to clear my mind."
"Alright," Will says, as if he's granting his brother permission, "remember, no drinking and driving and no working to maintain that bad boy image."
"You don't need to worry about that." And in all honesty, his brother didn't.
Will smiles, for the first time since managing the band, he relaxes, "Good."
Jay manages to make it halfway across the room before Rixton decides to speak, before he decides to offer an unwarranted and an unneeded comment. Out of everyone in the band, Rixton would be the last one to find out about Erin, and if Jay had any say in the matter, he would never learn about her, regardless of if they're friends or not. Rixton was too opinionated. Rixton didn't mind sharing those opinions, even if they crossed that fine line between respectful and rude. Jay hesitated by the door, awaiting whatever question Kenny was going to pose, "Are you losing your spark?"
"No," Jay exits the hotel room before lowering his voice and finishing his sentence, "I think I'm actually finding it."
His feet carry him along the tiled marble floor. He honestly has no idea where he's going until he winds up in the lobby of the hotel. The band had only rented one rental car and Ruzek and Burgess were currently using it. He wouldn't be able to go anywhere until they got back. He wouldn't be able to see her. He had to drive a little over an hour away just to meet up with her outside of the city, but the plan they set in place, was already being ruined by Ruzek staying out with his wife a little later than planned. And by some string of luck, fate or the power of some unseeable force puts Adam and Kim in his pathway; they're walking inside the hotel, holding hands and shopping bags. He doesn't waste a second; he rushes across the lobby of the hotel and practically holds his hand out for the keys.
"Where are you off to?" Ruzek practically ignores his extended hand.
"I need the keys to the rental car."
As Adam hands the keys over, Burgess slowly eyes her friend up and down, "You smell good. You're wearing your nice button up shirt with the new pair of jeans you bought yesterday," she's very perceptive, "You look casual but you're a, I'm trying to impress someone type of casual. Tell me, where are you going on a beautiful evening like today?"
"I'm just going to clear my head. I'll probably take a drive around the city and look at the sites."
It's completely obvious that Burgess sees through it, she picks up on his lack of eye contact, the sweat appearing above his brow and the way his fingers toy with the outline of the car keys. She picks up on it and he's fully aware of that, especially when she turns to her husband and sends him off to the gift shop in the hotel to buy her a souvenir. His excuse had worked on Ruzek; his bandmate had simply dropped the interrogation and saw no problem when his wife sent him off on a journey to collect some mediocre souvenir when they literally just came back from shopping most of the day.
"So, Adam's gone," she crosses her arms over her chest, "so tell me, where are you really going?"
"I'm just going to go for a drive."
"Jay…"
"Kim, I'm going for a drive; let's leave it at that," his words are final; she knows not to pester him about it anymore. Burgess wants to argue, she wants to call him out for blatantly lying to their faces, but Kim retreats. She settles on the fact that she knows Halstead, and she knows that he wouldn't lie about where he was going unless it was for a good reason. And to his relief, she nods and lets it go; she backs away, watching as he turned to head out of the hotel.
Jay had been held up long enough; he had started to notice the sun starting to set outside and he still needed to drive over an hour away. He had to encounter city traffic, rush hour and construction just to have dinner in a faraway diner to avoid the paparazzi. All of the honking, the avoidance of car accidents and the unpaved streets that cause the car to bounce uncomfortably was going to be worth it as he drives onto the dirt road and finally pulls up in front of the diner.
He shoots off a quick message, I just arrived, -JH
As Jay steps out of the rental car, he takes in his surroundings. There's no way the paparazzi would find them here. The parking lot is basically a dirty road; the cars that fill the lot consist mainly of pickup trucks and the diner itself is about as long as a mobile home. Jay carefully walks through the dried dirt of the parking lot, being careful not to muck up his shoes, but when his phone buzzes in his pocket and he gets a message from Erin, he forgets about walking careful and simply strolls unbothered through the parking lot and up the outside steps of the diner as he checks it.
I'm not there yet; I'm on my way! Grab a table, -EV
Jay had already been running late; he sat in his car for a good twenty minutes before even deciding to come out. He didn't see her guards' truck anywhere around so he should have known she wasn't even here, but he had hoped. He had sent her the text in an effort to lighten the mood before walking inside, thinking she was here and was most likely upset at his tardiness. And as it turns out, she wasn't even here yet, she wasn't even on time. Jay shoves his cell back into his pocket and with a heavy sigh; he enters into the aged and old-fashioned diner. A bell above the front door of the eatery rang as he stepped inside, alerting the two employees –the waitress and the chef- and the few patrons of his presence. The diner was such a tiny place, styled in 50s, and off an unpopulated highway in Virginia to steer clear of paparazzi. Jay nodded towards a checkered table in the corner, alerting the waitress of his chosen seat. He dragged his feet towards it; there was no point in rushing, she was running late anyway. She had sent him an apology as the minutes continued to tick on by. This was their second date and if it wasn't for how amazing the first date went, he would have left. She was pushing on being over a half an hour late now.
Jay toyed with the salt and pepper shakers, looking for ways to pass the time. The simple distraction of playing around with the condiments on the table had only served to distract him for a few minutes. Glancing over the menu until he found what he wanted to order diverted his attention away from the eyes of the diner's regular customers; it was possible that they were staring at him because he was the only unfamiliar face in a diner with patrons who visited almost every single day or it could have been because he was a familiar face that they recognized on television or on the front page of many celebrity magazines. Whatever reason they had for staring, he didn't care. This was a second date and even though she was approaching being forty-five minutes late, he was not going to let anything ruin it.
The menu in his hands is set down the second he knows what he wants to order. Now, all that's left for him to do is wait. It was brushing upon the one hour mark and she still wasn't here.
The tips of his fingers traced the checkered outline on the table, using this as another method to distract him, that is, until he notices someone approach. He sees the outline of a woman in his peripheral, standing at the side of his table, "Is this seat taken?" an unfamiliar voice queried.
Jay looked up from the table and silently nodded, "Yeah, my uh, friend," he didn't know what they were to each other, "should be here any minute."
It was the first moment, or opportunity that has arisen for him to take in the woman standing perky beside him. Jay gave the woman a once over, taking in every feature including the seductive smirk she had plastered across her face. If this was a week ago, before he met Erin, he would have been tempted; he would have positively asserted his confidence and wooed this woman off her feet. He would have said screw dinner and took her in the bathroom to show her exactly why women couldn't resist his charm, but things changed, he felt like he was changing and he had only known Erin personally for about a week. He was changing into a man he barely recognized and it was all her fault.
"A friend, huh?" she asked for clarification, her fingers lightly brushing up and down his exposed forearm; he watches it, but doesn't stop her, "you've been sitting here for almost an hour and I've been watching, your friend is a no show. Are you sure you don't want the company because it's unfortunate that you're sitting here all alone in this diner on a Friday night?"
"Well it's a good thing he's not alone."
The girl was startled. She jumped back, pulling her hand away from Jay's forearm. Her brown eyes were wide as she took in the person who ruined their moment. She immediately recognized her; it was the first daughter. It was the president's daughter and she currently had four secret service guards surrounding her. Erin nodded for them to disperse, and they separated to scope out the restaurant in order to ensure themselves that it's safe. The woman watched two of them position themselves in separate corners of the diner while the other two went to stand outside.
Erin smiled innocently, bypassing the woman to approach him. She set her hand down upon his shoulder and smiled, "Sorry I'm late," and before he could respond and accept her apology, she's leaning down to kiss him. When her lips brush against his, he becomes fully aware that this kiss isn't full of the innocent nature she wanted outsiders to see, this kiss was full of tease, of passion and of a clear message to the woman watching –back off.
The stranger disappeared by the time the kiss ended. She was too embarrassed to face it and no one could blame her for it. Erin straightened up and slid into the seat across from him.
"You have good timing," he's breathless.
"It can't be that good; I didn't get here before she started hitting on you."
Jay smirks when he notices the fire burning intensely behind her eyes. Could that be what he thinks it is? Could that be a look of jealousy laced with a bit of possessiveness? Whatever it is he saw, he didn't mind it at all. Normally its fans of his that are jealous of a rumored relationship, but it was never from someone he was actually interested in.
"Let's start over. Hi," he greeted.
"Hi," she smiled, biting her lip to suppress her obvious interest.
It was just then that the waitress had walked over; she's completely flustered and nervous to be in the presence of two well-known people. In her arrival, she accidentally bumps into the table, alerting them of her presence and darkening the reddened tint on her cheeks. She uses the notepad in her hand to hide as much of her face as possible, "Hi, I'm Gracie. I'm the only server working tonight so thank you for your patience," it was really no bother; Erin had only arrived minutes ago, "Can I get you anything?"
"Yeah, could I have, the uh bacon cheeseburger with fries."
Erin slides the menu from in front of him, "That sounds really good. I would like the same thing with," she scans the drink options, "a double hot chocolate."
She jots it down and turns back to Jay, "And what about you sir?"
"Can I have a sweet tea?"
Gracie writes the last of the order down and takes away the one menu before heading towards the kitchen. She leaves the young couple at their table in their own little world, completely oblivious of the casual glances the patrons toss their way.
"You know when you said you'll find a place," she glances around, "I didn't expect it to be this."
"Is it too average for someone of your status?" He jokes.
The smile on her face grew wider, "That's not what I'm saying. I just feel a little over dressed," she whispers, glancing down embarrassingly at her maroon lace dress with a thin black belt buckled across the front, "I could have just worn shorts and a t-shirt or something less…formal."
"You look beautiful."
"I look ridiculous," she retorts amusedly, "people are staring."
"Erin, they're not staring because of what you're wearing."
That's right. Of course they're not staring because of what she's wearing. They're staring because of who she is. Erin shifts in her seat and looks over to a couple sitting at the nearest table and when she makes eye contact with them; they quickly look away, both embarrassed and ashamed at being caught. Erin sits up straight and intertwines her fingers over the checkered table, "There's nothing I can do about my outfit," she inhales a deep breath and releases it seconds later, "and there's nothing I can do about who I happen to be related to, but there is something I can do about this night. This is our second date and we're going to make the most of it. Agreed?" She holds up her pinky.
Jay wraps his pinky around hers, "Agreed."
"Favorite color?"
It catches him off guard, but he answers nonetheless, "Blue. What about you?"
"I can't choose just one; I do prefer dark colors though."
Their second date felt just as easy and as casual as their first. It was filled with getting to know one another without either having to tend to their other priorities. Their phones were out of sight, they shared their favorite movies, their pet peeves, their favorite vacation spots and they were just getting into their worst dates when the waitress reappeared and sat their beverages down.
"So let me get this straight," Erin clasped her hands around the mug of her hot chocolate, "the worst date you can think of was ruined because of something you did?"
"Yeah, pretty much," he tries shrugging nonchalantly, as if he doesn't care as much as he does, "I wasn't much of a dater back then."
"Back then?" She caught on to his last words, "does that mean you are now?"
"Tell me about your worst date," he sits up and drops his straw into his glass.
She picks up on how he purposely avoids answering her question. She doesn't let it bother her though, this, whatever it is, is new, it's fresh. Erin can't expect him to change his ways overnight or in the span of a week. He's been like that for most of his life; it'll take some time for him to change it. So, instead of dwelling on his obvious discomfort, she proceeds to answer his question, "I had plenty of horrible date experiences. Would you want the worst scary date or the worst bland date?"
"I want to hear both, but start with the bland one."
"I can't even remember the guy's name to be honest, but literally from the moment we sat down in the restaurant to the moment he walked me to my car, all he talked about was my dad," she admits, bringing the mug of her hot chocolate to her lips to take a cautious sip, "it was during the campaign three years ago, before my dad won the election. He knew more about my dad than I did. And to make matters worse, after he walked me to my car, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope which had his résumé inside. He wanted me to give my dad his résumé and put in a good word for him for a position in his staff for if he won the presidency."
"That sucks."
"Tell me about it," Erin rolled her eyes.
"And what about your scary date, was that equally just as horrifying?"
Jay's brows shot up when she answers, "It's no comparison. That guy was a creep! It was during my senior year of undergrad and I'm so fucking serious Jay, but I would not be surprised if the guy ended up arrested for necrophilia."
"Wait. What? How did you get that from one date?"
"Apparently, he assumed a first date automatically meant sex," Jay shifted uncomfortably at the thought of sex between Erin and someone else, "He had this weird fetish. He wanted me to take a cold bath before we did anything. He wanted me to put makeup on my face that was definitely paler than my complexion and then he wanted me to lie completely still in the bed. Motionless Jay, he wanted me to be still if we went that far," she shivers at the thought before taking another sip of her beverage.
That was a date story he wasn't expecting to hear. That was an experience he wouldn't want anyone to share. Jay saw her eyes on him, waiting for him to say something; he suppresses the shock and straightens his posture, "Fuck," it was all he could think of to say.
Erin snorted into her mug, taking another quick sip before she sat it down, "My sentiments exactly…I wished the guy the best and sent him on his way. He was no trouble. I waited like a whole hour before leaving the restaurant and I spent the night at my parents' house, just in case he decided to follow."
Jay didn't feel forced to respond because it was at that moment their waitress had arrived with their dinner. She nervously sat their plates down in front of them and scurried away, almost tripping over the leg of a nearby chair in her haste to get as far away as possible. Erin had reached across the table to grab the glass bottle of ketchup, "This looks great."
"I'm actually surprised you ordered what I got."
"And why is that?" She sets the bottle down after using it, "Did you assume I was going to order a salad with a glass of water?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"I told you I'm a big foodie," she takes a hold of her burger and stretches her mouth as wide as possible to take the biggest bite imaginable, "Sorry," she set her burger down and reached for a napkin, "I'm starved."
"Don't stop on my account," Jay joins her and takes a large bite himself.
They sat there for what felt like hours, with Jay asking just as many questions as she did, to which he answered honestly and sometimes playfully depending on the topic. Laughter was mixed in with eating and storytelling and basically getting to know each other, seeing each other through a lens that the media doesn't allow. Erin dips her fry in the dollop of ketchup as Jay watches her, "How is your food?"
"Good and yours?"
"Good." They both chuckle.
The waitress reappears to collect their empty plates; she refills Jay's glass of sweet tea before departing back into the kitchen. Now as they sit with full bellies, relaxing back in their seats and taking in each other's glow, they both couldn't help but smile. She's grinning from ear to ear with her hands wrapped around her lukewarm beverage, "I meant to thank you again for the flowers. They were absolutely beautiful."
"I'm glad you liked them," he raises his glass to take a sip.
"No one has ever gotten me flowers before," and the way her tongue slowly drifts along her bottom lip has him thinking he's imagining it.
And Jay nearly choked on his iced tea because of it, "Sorry," he reaches nervously for a few napkins, patting them against the top of his buttoned-up shirt.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," Erin told him, her smile a little forced. She finishes off the remainder of her hot chocolate, gulping down the last sip of the lukewarm goodness before setting the mug down on the edge of the table. It sits there and Jay's empty glass eventually joins it, both their eyes settling on the glassware until Gracie returns, collecting the glasses and setting down their bill. Neither of the two reaches for it; they're not ready for the night to be over and by acknowledging the bill, they would undoubtedly be recognizing that this date will end.
During dinner, the bell above the door rings every once in a while signaling the entrance and the exit of the short flow of people. However, they managed to ignore it. Jay had years of experience in paying no attention to the onlookers, the flash photography and the filming. Erin, while experiencing many years in the spotlight, had her four guys to protect her, block her from unwanted attention and the flashes from strangers' cameras. Jay doesn't notice any of it. He isn't aware of the few patrons in the diner giving both of them looks, recognizing them and sneaking photos because of it. And while he doesn't appear to notice, she does.
"We've been spotted," she does everything in her power to avoid looking at them.
And Jay simply shrugs it off, "I don't care," he reaches across the table and envelopes her hands within his, "One of us will be recognized no matter where we go. It's better them than the paparazzi, right?"
She's surprised, but she nods anyway. It's only their second date and while people are watching, word of this dinner will definitely spread and he didn't seem to be bothered by it. A week ago, he had her hidden inside of a skybox in an arena and today, he had them out in the open, smiling at her, listening to every story she felt comfortable enough to tell him and overlooking the staring faces, the whispering voices and the flashes of their cameras.
His thumb ran across her wrist, pulling her attention back onto him, "I told you Erin, I'm serious about this."
And she's starting to believe it, but it doesn't mean she is as forthcoming and lenient with her heart as she wants to be. This relationship or whatever one would call it seemed to come out of nowhere. It started with him bumping into her on a sunny street in downtown D.C.; it led to a last minute date at his concert which inevitably led to this moment. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she needs to take her time with him. No matter what he says, how he looks or what he does, his reputation stands alone and can speak for itself.
She withdraws her hands from his grip, "What about your reputation?"
"It's time for a change."
"And I'm that change?"
"I want you to be," he admits honestly; she can see it in his eyes, "I find you interesting. I find you amazing and I actually really do want to get to know you more. Before I met you…"
"A week ago," she finds herself reminding him.
And he simply nods, implying that he heard her before picking up where he left off, "I was running late for rehearsal and to be honest after rehearsal, I probably would have done what I did plenty of times, head to a bar with Rixton and either get too drunk to where I don't remember my name or find a girl to hook up with."
"Is this really a second date conversation?"
"But since meeting you," he ignores her and continues, "and realizing that I actually want something with you, that life hasn't been as appealing as it once was before I met you, is really starting to change my perspective on things. We've either text or spoken on the phone every day since I ran into you and knowing myself that says a lot. I've never called a girl back after a hook up and for me to reach out to you, to message you and initiate conversation with you after only having a short chat with you, shows me that this has to be more. This is more."
"Okay and what about Rixton? I'm sure he's going to have a problem with this."
"Well, it's a good thing we don't need his permission."
And he's right. They're both adults and they both can make their own decisions. Neither of them should care about whether or not they have the approval of his friend and bandmate. And Jay sees the hesitance on her face, the fear that if she gives in she'll only be left with a broken heart, and he notices the creased indent on her forehead, knowing she wants to agree but she also wants the approval of the people closest to him.
"We don't need anyone's permission or acceptance," He reiterates, taking her hand in his once again, "and we also don't need to worry about anything in the future. Let's just live in the present," he raises her hand to kiss her inner wrist.
"You're right," she whispers, watching as he peppers another kiss against the inside of her wrist, "It's only a second date. It's not like we're getting married or anything."
She finds comfort in that. And from what she remembers on their last date, two of his friends were big fans of hers so she knew she'll at least have them in her corner. However, Rixton was a good friend of his and if they were to get serious, she wanted him to accept their relationship, if not for her then for him. Erin notices a bright light flash in her peripheral, "Either people aren't that great at sneaking photos or they just don't care anymore," Erin mentions to Jay.
His gentlemanly antics may have been questioned, for his fingers trailed along her arm, but when he notices her discomfort, notices how she's paying more attention to the people sneaking pictures of them than him himself, he withdraws his hand away, shifting in his seat to face them, "Hey," he calls out, startling them enough for the couple to drop their phones onto the floor, "Do you mind giving us a little privacy?" And when they scoop up their phones and turn away embarrassingly, he avows, "Thanks."
The second he turned back to face her, she smiled and grabbed his right hand to pull him to his feet and out of the booth, leading him through the rows of tables to approach the diner's countertop to pay. The bill is in her opposite hand and she focuses down on the total in order to ignore the wandering glances from the surrounding people.
Jay slides the bill from her hands, "I got it," he starts to reach into his pocket only for her to stop him and take the bill back.
"You paid for dinner last time; it's my turn."
He slides the bill out of her grip, "I got it. It's a date."
"It's a date yes, but it's not a date in the fifties," she snatches it back and quickly hands it over to the cashier before he's able to take it away again, "How about you leave the tip?"
Halstead doesn't argue with that; he simply withdraws a bill from his pocket and hands it over to the waitress as she walks pass with another person's order. She smiles her gratitude. Erin searched through her wallet and withdrew her card, "Credit please."
As she waits for her card to be swiped, she feels his arm wrap around her waist. It's a bold move. And it's an even bolder move that she didn't reject his action. Jay smiled at her, his thumb absently running along the outside of her forearm where he held her. She tapped her foot impatiently watching as the cash register deposited a receipt, "Thank you."
Before she can turn to face Jay, Atwater approaches, "Erin. I must warn you that your location was released and a few paparazzi are outside."
"I'll walk you out."
Erin smiled at that, the light of her happiness reaching her eyes, "Thank you."
"Roman and Sorensen are standing at the truck; the door is opened waiting for you," Atwater informs, leading Erin and Jay along with Dawson towards the front of the diner, "All you need to do is make it through the four or five that's out there. It's just four or five."
Just. She thinks. The term just makes it sound like a few. It makes it sound like only; it makes her feel horrible for inwardly groaning at the thought of having to make her way through four or five grown men, shouting questions, flashing cameras and microphones being shoved in her face.
"I got you," Jay assured, tightening his hold around her waist.
And when the bell rings above the door just as Atwater pushes it open, she sees the dark night full of sporadic flashes from their expensive cameras. While in Jay's arms, she felt on display but safe at the same time. Jay's hold tightened even more if that's possible; he uses his hand to create a visor over her eyes, shielding her orbs from the blinding camera light. Her name is shouted all around her; his name is called out following her name. Someone in the restaurant must have posted a photo that alerted them to their presence. The thought of a rock star and the first daughter sneaking off for dinner was too tempting of a news story for them to pass up.
Jay watched the wild paparazzi, completely unashamed of basically harassing a woman as she moves towards shelter. She's stumbling over her own two feet, regretting the heels she chose to wear. Jay pulls her in closer, squinting his eyes since his hands are currently occupied protecting her. One hand wrapped around her waist while the other remains above her eyes, protecting her vision from the cameras shoved in her face.
"Are you two dating?"
"Are you two secretly seeing each other?"
"Does your father know?"
"How long has this been going on?"
"Is this a serious thing or just for fun?"
By the time they reach the truck, Sorensen and Roman are standing at the back door, swinging it open and helping her climb inside. Knowing she was comfortably seated, he glanced over his shoulders at the bright lights and the loud questions being tossed his way, "Back off," he asserts, before seeing her wave for him to climb in. Erin had never been able to get used to the paparazzi; she was thrown into the world because of her father's role. She was forced to adapt to it even as a child yet now as an adult, it seems the adaptation didn't stick. Jay could see it. Even if he wasn't with her and was watching celebrity news, he saw how her guards protectively stood around her or he saw the look on her face as she makes her way to shelter. And now that he experienced this with her, could feel her body stiffen under his arm, could see her looking down at the ground to protect her vision until he shielded it with his hands and could see the expression on her face as she sits in the back seat, Jay didn't think he'd let a man near Erin without going through him first.
When he remains outside, ignoring her waving hand, she speaks up, "Get inside."
"Is that a good idea?" He can still hear the shutters of cameras; he didn't want to give them more of a story than they already had, especially since she didn't seem comfortable with it.
Erin eyes flew back up to his after she temporarily glanced over his shoulder, "That's an order."
Jay looked at her nearest guard to find Atwater nodding, stepping back to give them a few minutes. He climbs in and the door shuts behind him. Her guards separate and protectively stand in front of each door to ensure none of the men desperate for news stories would open one to quickly snap a photo or zoom in to snap a picture through the tinted window.
Now with a semblance of privacy, Erin slides across the leather seat and reaches for his hand, "Sorry about that back there."
"You're the last person who should be apologizing," he turns sideways to face her, leaning the side of his arm against the leather, "it's those assholes who should be apologizing."
"Thank you," she interrupts before he's able to finish his rant.
"I didn't do anything."
"You did a lot," she takes a hold of his hand, "And I want to go out with you again."
"You know I'm down."
"You leave next week."
"That just means we need to do something before I leave."
Erin scoots forward in her seat, "How about I find us a location this time?"
"Was my choice that bed?"
"…not at all. I just think it's my turn."
"Just tell me when and where."
"When are you free?"
"I won't know until I look at my schedule."
"Text me," she finds her hand wrapping around his.
"Of course," And before he's able to turn and leave, he feels her hands gliding up his arms, "I should go. The paparazzi are probably out there counting how long I've been in here."
Erin pulls away. If there's anyone who understands him when he's talking about the paparazzi, it's her. She knows they're just doing their job but she just wished they could be a little considerate. She's 26. She's human. And she's not one for having all of her personal business publicized for everyone to see and pass judgment on.
Jay turns to leave the second she pulls away. His back is to her. He's slowly reaching for the handle of the door when he feels her hand back on him, grasping his shoulder and gently urging him to turn around. And the second he does, heeding her command and confusedly giving in to eye her out of curiosity of what else she needed to say, his concern disappears the second her lips join his. It's a short and sweet kiss. She breaks it off just as soon as she initiates it.
"Goodbye," Erin once again leaned in a little closer before pressing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth, "I just wanted to give you a goodbye kiss." It wasn't enough for him though.
The second she starts to pull away, Jay turned his head to fully capture her lips with his own, lifting his hands up to cup and caress her cheeks. Their kiss was soft, sweet and gentle; it's full of promise, potential and unspoken feelings. When she pulled back, it was only by a few inches, far enough away but near enough for the tip of their noses to touch and his forehead to lean against hers. She raises her hands and wraps them around the back of his neck, "Don't forget to text me. I can't plan a date if I don't know when you're free," her fingers are smooth as they play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Trust me, I won't forget."
They're forced to separate and against her better judgment she watches him slide back towards the door. The flashes of cameras and the shouts from the paparazzi fill the space of her car the second Jay knocks for Atwater to open the door. He shoots her a wink over his shoulder before he expertly hops out of the truck, trading places with Atwater and Dawson as they hop in. Erin sends them a look of gratitude and appreciation; this night wouldn't have happened if it weren't for them. Erin doesn't say much on the ride home; she spends her time on the phone, looking at her name trending on the social media app. And reluctantly clicking on her name, she sees the photos posted of their date –one of him holding her hand, one of them laughing, one of him with his arm around her waist, a few of them talking and relaxing in their seats and a few of them eating and enjoying their conversation. The pictures were out there for everyone to see, like, repost and save. And now she was nervous, sitting in the back seat of the truck, reading the comments of strangers who had their own opinions on their life and stiffening in her seat because it's definitely no going back from here.
-x-
In his line of profession, Jay had been accustomed to the wandering eyes and the obvious stares of the unfamiliar faces that recognized him. However, this is different. The eyes looking at him feel different; they don't perceive him in amazement or obsession, they look at him as if they've seen a part of him that he only reserves for a select few. In all honesty, he does though; he only allows his fans and the media to see things in favor of his bad boy reputation. And now, for whatever reason, they looked at him through a different lens.
The long looks that follow him through the lobby of the hotel until he reaches the elevator are intense. They're unblinking; they're focused on him as he desperately and impatiently waits for the elevator doors to open. Some of the stares belonged to cold and hardened eyes; orbs that shone all types of disapproval for whatever knowledge they felt privy to, they portrayed the essence of judgmental. And other stares felt hopeful, they looked as if they had fell in love or supported the idea of him and the first daughter –if that's the reason why they're staring. The looks were torn and Jay built his career over ignoring all looks, but it was something about today, having dinner with Erin that had him curious about the reactions of the world.
Before Jay has the chance to knock on Will's room door, it swings open. His fist midair in preparation of knocking only to have the act thwarted by the door flying open and Will pulling him inside, "You said you were going for a drive around the city."
And speaking of eyes and the messages they send, Jay reads his brother's orbs loud and clear; he was angry. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold and hard; he appeared disappointed and impatient as he waited for what his brother had to say.
"It was a long drive," Jay shrugs, tossing his brother the keys to the rental car.
Jay walks further into the hotel room to find Burgess and the band lounging around, all meeting him with various looks consisting of disapproval and anger from Rixton, envy from Mouse, betrayal from Burgess and a look of support and sympathy from Ruzek. It seems out of everyone that Adam would be the one he'll have in his corner for backing.
He sends a quick wave through the air, "Hey guys," and he knows the extent to their anger when no one responds but Ruzek. The silent treatment is the method they chose to express their displeasure. Adam, while a little upset that Jay felt the need to hide something this big from him, simply pointed his finger towards the television, showing him what they had all seen before he arrived. And when Jay turned to see what they were watching, he immediately frowned at the sight of scandalous celebrity news, with a panel of strangers discussing the pictures posted by either the patrons in the diner or the videos shared by the paparazzi of them leaving the diner.
Jay had assumed they knew better than to rely on information posted through gossip channels and sites. There was nothing serious going on between him and Erin, but according to one person's theory, they've been secretly dating for months. Jay couldn't listen to the rest of that garbage; out of anger, he stomps towards the television and shuts it off.
"I spoke to Natalie when the story broke," Will speaks up after finally calming down, "as our PR coordinator, she wants to get ahead of the story before the media has a field day with it. If we don't put you in front of a camera to answer questions, the media will have a blast filling in the blanks and answering the questions for you."
He doesn't seem bothered or disturbed by the news, but Jay does seem troubled by one thing and he doesn't hold back in voicing it, "I'll talk about my music, my band and really anything you want, except for my relationship with her. That is off limits."
"Well that kind of defeats the purpose," Will spat exasperatedly.
Rixton rises from the couch, "So you two have a relationship?" He focuses on that aspect of what Jay says, steering everyone's attention onto him.
"I honestly don't know what we have; we haven't talked about it."
"What are you doing then?"
Jay shrugs as he contemplates a safe way to answer Kenny's question, "We're just having fun. We're just getting to know each other."
"We talked about this. You're supposed to be changing your reputation," his brother chimes in.
And now it's starting to feel like a verbal attack, a gang up of people he cares about that appears to be completely against the possible of idea of this supposed relationship. It was nothing serious. Yet, here they stood, looking at him with judgmental eyes as if they knew how all of this would play out. Jay crosses his arms over his chest, cupping his elbows with his hands and leaning against the nearest wall, "It's not what you think. I'm interested in her. I want to get to know her. We're just…friends!"
"I don't hold my friends like this," Rixton asserts, flashing Jay the photo on his phone screen of him holding Erin's hand from across the table, "or like this," he swipes to show the next photo of Jay standing near the cash register with his arm around her waist.
His brother asserts himself back into the conversation with worry etched along his brow, "Jay, just please think about the band. If you do to her, the first daughter, what you did to the women before her, everything we've worked hard to build will crash and burn."
"You're not doing this," Rixton says through gritted teeth.
"What?"
"You're not getting involved with the president's daughter!"
"What are you talking about?" Jay was well aware of his brother's warning, yet he played dumb.
"You have that look on your face!" Will points out, "The one that says you're going to do something you know you probably shouldn't be doing!"
"I'm not going to do anything," Jay withdraws his room key; he didn't need to stay here to receive those looks or to hear their opinions on what may or may not be happening between him and Erin; if he wanted to hear that, he'll just turn back on the garbage that is celebrity news, "I'll see you guys tomorrow morning for breakfast, and Will," he waits for his brother to look over, "When is our next free day?"
"Why?"
"Just answer the question."
"Saturday," his brother sighs.
"The day before we leave," Jay whispers to himself before heading out and going directly to his room across the hall.
As the card key is inserted into the lock, he smothers a yawn behind his hand. Today had felt unnecessarily longer than it should have; today, felt like it had extended to a point beyond the normal realm of what is defined as a long day. Jay waits to hear the door shut behind him before he slides his feet along the carpet, kicking off his shoes as he trudged towards the bed.
Jay flops down onto his bed, rips off his socks and throws them across the room. He was frustrated, he was tired and he was overwhelmed and all of that was a pure understatement from where his head was at in the moment. He unbuckles his belt and tosses his pants onto the couch and his buttoned-up shirt follows suit. By the time he's under the covers, he notices his phone –now resting on the bedside table- light up and vibrates against the wood. Without even looking at the name, he already knows who it is and there is no hesitation in his movements as he lifts it up and swipes across the screen to read her message, Is this a good idea? –EV
If you're talking about our third date, then of course it is, -JH
Her message came instantly, almost as if it was already typed out before he sent his, I'm watching celebrity news and so many rumors are coming out, good and bad. People are posting things on social media, pictures of us at the diner have been shared more times than I can count and we're getting tagged in them, -EV
Who cares what they have to say? –JH
People are placing bets on how long our supposed relationship is going to last, -EV
You didn't care about what they said before, don't care about what they say now, -JH
Most think you won't be able to stay faithful for too long; a tiger can't change his stripes and all that bullshit is what they're saying, -EV
Screw them, -JH
It was no secret that Jay didn't care about the headlines, but Erin grew up differently than him, she grew up in a household led by a mother that prided herself on maintaining a good appearance. While her father didn't care much about what anyone said about him, her mother did, especially when the election is next year and his opponents would use any minor thing against him. That's when Erin cared about what was said of her the most. She didn't want for her deeds to affect her father.
That's easier for you to say. You're not put on a pedestal. Your father doesn't run a country. Your reputation doesn't affect someone else, -EV
You're right, -JH
I'm not upset, at least not with you, I'm just worried. I feel like my mom is going to text or call me any second now, either that or my dad's campaign manager…or worse, my dad himself, -EV
It was just a second date, tell them that, -JH
I don't want to undermine it, especially because we're planning a third, -EV
Jay smiled at that and brushed his fingers against the keys to type out his next reply, just take a deep breath, relax and get some sleep. This'll all be old news by next Saturday, which just so happens to be when I'm available, -JH
A day before you leave, -EV
Unfortunately, yes, -JH
I hope you're right. I hate being the center of attention, -EV
Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow to see if shits hit the fan on your end, -JH
His message pulls a smile to her face and he senses it. His message lightens the mood enough for both of them to fall peacefully asleep.