4
..
Reporters piled into the conference centre for Alaric's speech on education reform and Bonnie spotted Katherine in the front seat, recorder ready as she chewed on her pencil. Pursing her lips together, she adjusted her side button navy dress and waved at Katherine when the reporter looked up.
It was going to be a long conference, she could tell and the only thing she could think about was Damon Salvatore. She had ended up calling him and after finding out that they both had front row tickets to the Knicks, suggested that they seat together at the game and have dinner at Daniels in Park Avenue after. This of course ended up being a debate about social classes and the discrepancy between the rich and the poor until he added something about hunger in Somalia. Bonnie finally agreed to dinner at some less expensive place in Lower Manhattan.
..
"It's not a date Kat, it's a semi-date…a casual date" Bonnie sighed, plucking out a bottle of merlot from her wine rack in the kitchen.
"Is that why you spent the past hour shaving off every inch of hair on your body?" Katherine rifled through the cabinets and pulled out a pair of wine glasses.
"I still need to look good." she shrugged as she worked the cork out of the bottle.
"I call bullshit" Kat laughed, setting the glasses on the island for Bonnie to pour the wine.
She hesitated, looking up at Katherine before she huffed, "Are you gonna help or what?"
"Ok. What do you need?"
"I need you to help me select an outfit that says hi, I'm sexy "she spelled out, pouring hefty helpings of red wine into both glasses.
"From your closet? You got to be kidding me" Katherine exclaimed as she picked up her glass for a sip. She followed Bonnie into her bedroom, white, clean and organized just like its occupant.
"How about a little enthusiasm?" Bonnie said over her shoulder as she opened her white wood closet.
"How about we keep it real?" Kat teased, "Your closet shouts hi, I'm a dull, uptight bitch" she expanded as she skimmed her fingers over the white cashmere coats and tan dresses, "Do you even own any color?"
"That would be my summer wardrobe. I prefer to store those up until spring because well they-"
"And that's your problem. You think too much" Kat rolled her eyes, "Too much thinking is not sexy"
"You were never one for women's liberation were you?" Bonnie quipped, taking in the black leather pants, vest and three studded belts wrapped around Kat's hips.
"Sweetie, I own feminism but being sexy is a feeling, an allure you project and its all about the senses" she ran a hand through her dark hair, "To attract a man, you gotta entice his senses. Sight, taste, smell, sound and touch"
"Right" Bonnie mocked, taking a tidy sip from her glass and letting the wine sit on her tongue before she swallowed.
"So, since we've solved the touch issue with your razor blade, lets move on to sight. You got anything red and tight in your closet?"
"Katherine I'm going to a Knicks game…and maybe dinner later"
"So what?"
"I was thinking a good pair of jeans, sneakers and my Ralph Lauren sweater."
"This is not child's play, Bonnie. If you want this man to fall at your feet then you need to listen to me" she insisted as she walked back toward the couch to ruffle through her bag.
"What are doing?"
"Luckily, I came prepared" she plucked out a slinky red dress and held it against her chest but Bonnie's eyes widened when she saw that it barely made it past Katherine's knees.
"You do realize that barely covers your see-you-next-Tuesday and I'll be sitting front row with a dozen cameras in front of me. I don't think I'm ready for a Britney Spears moment"
"Bonnie, remember that less is more. Get your ass in this tiny thing while I refill our glasses"
"So what's his story anyway?" Kat yelled over her shoulder as she picked out fresh wine glasses from Bonnie's cabinet.
"Who?" she called from the bedroom.
"Damon. Is he yummy as fuck?"
"Shouldn't you be sticking to Enzo?"
"A girl is allowed to look, it's a free world"
"Are you serious about Enzo?" Bonnie's voice softened as she framed the doorway, hands pressing down the front of the short silk dress. She felt completely exposed, as though mere breath could blow the whisper of a dress from her body.
"Hi I'm Katherine Pierce, have we met?" Kat smiled taking another sip of wine while she looked at Bonnie over the rim of her glass "I've never been serious about any guy and I'm not about to start now"
"Good to know some things don't change."
"Enough about my sex life, will you look at you in that naked dress!"
"You're killing it mama!"
"You think?" Bonnie knotted her brows, trying to catch her reflection on the hallway mirror.
"You're gonna have this man eating out of the palm of your hand."
..
It hadn't dawned on him until he was pacing outside Seven Bistro in the freezing cold; it was Valentine's Day weekend and he had a date with Bonnie Bennett. Firstly, Damon did not believe in dinner dates and secondly he was strongly opposed to any Valentine's Day celebrations past a casual, cheap bottle of champagne consumed at one a.m. after a round of hot sex. Now, here he was waiting for a girl outside an actual restaurant and she was running late. Cupping his gloved hands over his mouth, he blew hot breath into them and rubbed them together. It was freezing, he was tired after a long day of fruitless writing and the irritation was evident when he rolled his shoulders.
What if she was standing him up? He shuddered at the possibility, the horror of her actually standing him up. Damon told himself that he wouldn't care, he'd head to the nearest sports bar and have a beer or two before the game and all would be right with his world again.
He dipped his head to avoid a mass of red balloons carried by a strolling couple and checked his watch again. He didn't want to call her, the last text she had replied to was thirty minutes ago and calling her again would seem desperate. It was a good thing he changed their date from Park Avenue to Lower Manhattan. He still couldn't believe that she was a Knick's fan. What were the odds of her having courtside tickets to the Knick's game, the same night he had courtside tickets. Damon was impressed and the realization hit him about three hours ago when he'd taken an entire hour debating if he should wear his Woodstock tee-shirt or his red plaid shirt. He had finally settled on a grey V-neck sweater, thick grey scarf and grey oversized coat. Raking a hand through his dishevelled hair, he glanced behind him at the lit restaurant with diners huddled together and scoffed. Deciding to give up on her, he shoved both hands into his pockets and stepped deeper into the sidewalk.
"Damon!"
When he heard her voice, he pivoted around and what he saw set his pulse scrambling. She was all leg and hair in the midst of a congested sidewalk and the sight of her stole his breath for a moment. He didn't care that the red of her dress screamed Valentines because the cut of it made him howl into the night. When his eyes coasted down her body, Bonnie crossed her arms across her chest to close her white cashmere coat and smiled.
"I'm sorry I'm late" she said after taking a deep breath.
"Right now, I'd forgive you for anything" he heard the break in his voice and cleared his throat. When an icy breeze ruffled her hair, it took all his restraint not to reach out and tuck a lock behind her ear.
"Well are you just gonna stare at me the whole night or are you gonna feed a girl?"
"Shall we?" he smiled, ushering her inside Seven Bistro with his hand firmly on her lower back.
He felt awkward sitting across from her as they busied themselves by thumbing through the fancy menus. Tossing his menu aside, he picked up his bottle of German beer and let his eyes sweep over her again. She looked fantastic with her sparkling hazel eyes and flushed pink cheeks. Damon cleared his throat again before taking a pull from his beer.
"Did you like the pencils?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the throbbing vein on her neck. She had been breathing hard and fast since they sat down at their table. He assumed that it was her nerves.
"I loved them. Thank you" she glanced up and smiled politely at him.
"When was the last time you went on a date?" he asked, a smile stretching his lips.
"Counting Manhattan's overpriced coffee dates?" she grinned before taking a sip from her red wine," Three weeks ago."
"How did it go?"
"He thought I wasn't spiritually evolved enough for him" she shrugged, "How about you?"
"My last date?"
"Yes"
"A year ago. I met her at some singles volunteering thing in Brooklyn."
"Singles volunteering?"
"It's a website that sets up volunteering events for singles like helping out at soup kitchens or handing out blankets to the homeless in the subway…"
"How noble of you"
"Ha! Anyway, we met and I decided that she was special enough to actually engage over a bottle of wine and a meal"
"Oh yes because you're too spiritually evolved to date. You only do hook-ups"
"Precisely" he gave her a lopsided grin.
"So, what happened?" her eyes bore into his as she looked at him over the rim of her wine glass.
"She left New York."
"Sacrilegious! Unfathomable! " Bonnie mock-screamed and slammed the table with her palms, "who leaves New York?"
"Exactly and where do they go?" he played along making exaggerated movements with his hands before picking up his beer again.
"There is no world outside New York" Bonnie chuckled shaking her head.
"New York is the world" he affirmed, raising his drink with a wink. They both laughed before easing down into easy chuckles.
"She moved so she could work as a volunteer in Afghanistan" Damon said softly breaking their comfortable silence.
"Wow, now I really feel like an asshole"
"You should" he teased, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. The waiter's voice managed to jolt them back into the room and they tore their gaze away from each other. He ordered a grilled steak with red onions and a salad and she ordered a smoked salmon with a baby spinach salad.
"And you haven't really dated since?"
"No, "Damon shook his head. The sloppy breakfasts in bed with Camille didn't count as dating, in fact he couldn't even remember sitting across Camille at a restaurant, let alone a kitchen table in her apartment. They were never that serious because she was always waiting for something and he was always running away from something.
"There are economics to dating" he said, "we all have perceived worth about potential dates"
"And what's my perceived worth?" she asked, leaning back into her chair.
"My time"
"Excuse me?"
"The cost of something is what you give to get it" he offered with a shrug of his shoulder, "and since my time is valuable to me, I would perceive you to be quite valuable"
"Lucky me" Bonnie snorted, rolling her eyes, "Aren't you gonna ask me how I perceive you, how I rate you?"
They paused to allow the waiter to place their food in front of them, fresh drinks included.
After the server left, Damon leaned across the table and flashed a big smile, "No need. I know your type. You're an elitist Harvard snob who puts value on a college degree and pedigree. I know your ideal man and the problem with your ideal man is that he's a high demand product. You see you will always be shopping around a seller's market as long as you shop for that type of guy"
"You suggesting I lower my standards?" she raised her eyebrow, stabbing a portion of fish with her fork.
"I'm suggesting you re-examine your deal breakers, miss Bennett"
"I agreed to go out on a date with you, didn't I?"
"Touché" Damon chuckled, forking a few leaves into his mouth.
"I guess this would mean that I'm slumming it on a buyer's market then?" Bonnie smiled sheepishly, toying with her food before taking in a forkful.
"What grade do you teach?" she caressed the stem of her glass with her fingers, tongue wetting her bottom lip.
He took a sip of his drink before speaking "Uhm… five."
"That's a good age."
"Oh yeah? You like kids?"
"Now how does one answer that? If I say no it'll make me look worse than the witch in Hansel and Gretel and if I say yes, you'll hear the loud ticking of my biological clock. Either way I'm shooting myself in the foot."
"I personally like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. "He smirked.
"How do you feel about clocks?"
"As long as it's not Tick-Tock the crocodile"
She laughed, soft and feminine. "You really are a fifth grade teacher."
"Where are you from or is that a hot button?" She took another sip of wine in an attempt to regulate her breathing.
"I was born and raised in New York."
"Let me guess, all-star basketball player, upper middle glass background, hmm…but daddy couldn't buy you a way into Harvard so you had to resort to teaching."
"You think I'm Harvard material?"
"You're right; you're more Brown material. Daddy couldn't buy you a way into Brown."
"Did your parents buy your way into college?"
"No."
He smiled, leaned back against his chair and accessed her, "Let me guess, divorced parents, two dogs, a younger brother, you ran the school's newspaper, debate team, English teacher's pet and uh…upper middle class background."
"My parents are still married."
"Happily?"
"Happily." She nodded
"You sure?"
"They still have sex."
"Did not need that mental image."
She laughed again and the throaty sound of her laugh warmed his insides.
"So you grew up in a Nuclear family?" Damon raised his eyebrows.
"You make it sound like I was being raised by terrorists."
"Aren't all parents extremist of some sort?" he smiled, then raised a hand "Can we strike that from the record?"
"Sorry but it's already out there. You cannot take it back" she laughed, tossing a napkin at him.
Their eyes held before she said, "I'm sorry about I said earlier."
"What was that?"
Her voice lowered to a husky pitch, "That you had to resort to teaching. I'm sure it's something you've wanted to do your whole life."
"You're forgiven."
..
Later, they sat courtside watching the game with her coat draped over her shoulders. She was surprised by the fact that she was enjoying herself. Being with Damon didn't feel forced or animated like the rest of the dates she had been on with typical Manhattan men.
She wasn't sure if he planned to lay on the charm after several drinks at his apartment but she wasn't planning to take it that far, at least not tonight. After the game she planned to take a cab and head straight home. After the Knicks won 89-104, Damon suggested drinks in East Village which was close to his apartment. He was as transparent as a shifty politician.
"I stay just around the corner" she said, arms crossed over her chest as they weaved through throngs of people leaving Madison square gardens for celebratory drinks.
"Come on; don't call it a night yet. It's Friday" he coaxed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. That brief touch of his thumb against her skin sent her mind reeling as her skin felt like it had been set alight. She took a sharp breath to compose herself, "How about we troll my neighbourhood tonight then? She breathed, "The Upper East Side"
"East Village has the best bars and I feel like an Irish pub tonight" Damon pouted, "Do you really feel like being in some stuffy piano bar after a game like that?"
"And what do you have in mind exactly, a few shooters and then we head back to your place?"
"If you insist" he teased her, his smile sending shivers down her spine. Bonnie wasn't sure what was happening to her but she knew that she had to get away from him before she did something she would regret, namely sleeping with him too soon.
"Look, I'm kinda tired. It's been a long night" she protested, raking a hand through her thick hair.
"So, close but no cigar?"
"Yup" she nodded, lifting her arm to hail down a cab.
"I can't twist your arm?"
"Don't you have some papers to grade?" she laughed as a taxi pulled up in front of them. He opened the door for her and watched her as she slid into the back seat.
"Good night, Bonnie"
"Good night, Mr. Salvatore" she smiled as Damon closed the door. When the car started moving, she vowed not to look back. She didn't want to see if he was still standing there watching as her cab drive off and she definitely didn't want to check if he had walked off the minute she got inside the car.
Curiosity got the better of her and she turned around to look if he was still there.
He wasn't.
With a heavy sigh, she rested her head against the seat and scanned the city as the car drove down 42nd street, past the red pulsating heart in Times Square to the lovers strolling hand in hand to mount the carriages around Central Park. Closing her eyes, she smiled to herself. The semi-date had not been too bad; in fact she'd had a fantastic time with Damon Salvatore.
..
