JENNIE
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Am I ready?
It was hard for me to believe that I was sitting in a restaurant, getting ready to go on my first date in years. My nerves were through the roof, bouncing and colliding with every muscle, tendon, bone. . . I was pretty sure I even felt the nerves skipping through every neuron in my brain.
My palms were sweating like I had just done push-ups on a heated floor and my lungs were taking in short breaths like I had just run five miles.
Just don't make an ass of yourself, and you'll be fine, I reminded myself as I lowered to the floor from the bar stool. Turning to Lisa, I said, "Wish me luck."
"You don't need luck, he does." Smirking, she held her glass up in a toast. "But I'll wish you luck anyway." Winking, she nodded her head towards the mysterious man in the booth.
The guy was sitting so his face was away from me, his shoulders had sharp arcs where they bent down into his bicep. His back looked thin and slender under his shirt, black hair shone under the overhead lighting, giving it a blue tone.
He didn't exactly look like my type, a bit too skinny, but who was I to be picky at this point?
Give him a chance, it's just a date.
Stepping slowly and cautiously towards my blind date, I tried to make sure I didn't catch my heels on anything that was hiding in the tiles. That's happened to me so many times at this point that cautious walking was second nature.
The clicking of my heels was dulled from the music and voices around me, but I could feel every step as it vibrated up my calves.
Just a few more feet.
A soft crackle hit my ear, causing me to jump. "You're doing fine so far, if you ever get there." Lisa's voice sounded like it was literally inside my head. Her laugh penetrated my brain, sending hot fire to my belly.
I was about to say something to her, but then I realized I might look insane. A woman, alone, walking in between people, and talking to herself.
Yeah, that would look totally normal.
Shooting a look over my shoulder, I smiled with tight lips at Lisa.
I'm going, I'm going.
Bringing the drink to her mouth, her teeth gleamed behind a huge grin as she sipped the beer. Nodding her head, she said, "Don't worry, Jackson doesn't bite. But don't tell him I said that, then he might just to spite me."
Laughing out loud, a few people turned their heads my way. "Sorry." I whispered, as I held my hand up and kept going.
Lisa's laugh kept vibrating my eardrum, as she watched me from the bar.
Finally reaching the booth, Jackson looked up with a toothy smile. "Why, hello. You must be Jennie, I'm Jackson, please sit." His arm stretched out, slapping the cushion beside him.
With huge eyes, I looked up at Lisa. She knew what I was wondering and hee answer was comforting. "Sit in the other seat across from him, not right next to him."
"I'll just sit here for now, thanks." Slipping over the red leather seat, I rested my clutch beside me. "It's nice to meet you, Jackson."
Leaning back, his eyes studied my face, licking my body. "The pleasure is all mine. So tell me, how does it feel to be back on the market?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you're back out dating again, it must feel good."
"It's different, but I'm willing to give it a shot."
Jackson brought his arms up behind his head, his beady eyes hovering under thinned lids. "I'd give you a shot, if you know what I mean."
"I know what you mean, but tell me something. . ." Pausing, I glanced over at Lisa. "How well do you know Lisa?"
There was a curiosity that flowed through me about the woman who was leading me into the lions den. She had a great reputation from what Nayeon told me, and her confidence was electric.
When she spoke or entered a room, you knew she was there. Even coming into the restaurant people turned to look at her. Lisa had a commanding presence, and I wanted to know who she truly was. If I was going to be putting my personal life in her hands, any information would help.
My searches on the internet turned up everything that Nayeon said. She had a reputation, one that was layered in gold and penned in diamond. But there was nothing on her and her life beyond her work.
"Lisa, we don't need to talk about Lisa. Let's talk about you. How do you like your coffee?"
"My coffee, why?" Knitting my brows, I tilted my head unsure of what he was asking.
"So I know how to make it for you tomorrow morning." His tongue dragged over his teeth, chest puffing up as he tried to flex what little muscle he had.
Is this guy serious?
The gentle crackle breaking in my ear halted the stabbing words I was about to let loose on this jackass. "He's really trying that on you, what a putz. How are you going to react to this one? Think it over and answer colorfully."
She was right, I didn't want to be a complete bitch. But Jackson needed to know that his drab pickup lines weren't going to work on me. "It's nice that you want to make me coffee, but I'll be making my own—alone at home."
"Ouch," he said, holding a hand to his heart.
Switching up his game, I asked, "Now you tell me something, does that line ever really work?"
'Perfect,' Lisa said, her quiet voice only for me to hear. A playful smile teased my lip, spine firming that I had handled the situation to Lisa's liking.
Jackson's demeanor changed instantly. He went from flexing his muscles, to a sincere smile on his face. "You know, sadly it does. I mean, I won't complain when it helps to get me laid, but I can tell you're not that type of girl. Good for you." A genuine laugh expelled from his lips, hand coming down to slap the table top.
A waitress approached our table, carrying two drinks and an order of nachos. "Here you go, Sir. I'll give you guys a few minutes to look over the menu."
"Thank you, but this will be good for now. If we need anything, I'll let you know." Jackson grabbed the small plate from the edge and started to fill it up. "I hope you don't mind I ordered you a tequila sunrise and some nachos for us to snack on."
"No," I said surprised. "Tequila sunrises and nachos are my favorite."
"I know."
"How did you know?" I asked, brow arching high.
"Let's just say a little birdie told me."
Glancing at Lisa, she sent me another big smile, and said, "I learned a lot from Nayeon. She knows quite a bit about you."
I should've known.
Why am I surprised?
But I couldn't help but wonder why she told Lisa so much and left out the biggest part of why I was single. Not that I minded, that was something I would much rather explain when the time was right.
I guess Nayeon did know me well enough to know that too. Some things aren't for everyone to share. And that one was for me to say when I felt it was called for.
Stretching across the table, I took my plate and started to fill it. "I hope you don't mind only getting about four nachos, because I could eat the whole damn plate." Scooping some up, I laughed, and unwittingly dropped a large mess of cheese, chips, and sour cream onto my lap.
"Shit," I said under my breath.
Chuckling, Jackson swiped up some napkins. "You could eat the whole plate, if you can find your mouth. Here, let me help."
As he started to raise up from the seat, I held my hand up. "No, thank you, I got this. And to think I wanted to return the dress after tonight, guess I can cut the tags off now." Wiping my lap, where the food so kindly fell, my elbow shot out, bumping my drink.
As if it all happened in slow motion, Jackson was mid-stance, leaning over the table, and of course the drink didn't just spill.
No, because that's not my luck.
Instead the drink practically jumped a foot high, coming back down to soak my entire chest and Jackson's neck and face. I didn't even know how I actually managed that one, but I did.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry." Flailing my hand out in apology, my fist crashed into his face, and I felt the crunch of his nose under my knuckles.
"Ah! Fuck!" He yelled, his hands flying up to cup his face. A small trickle of blood slithered over his lip, tilting his head forward, he balled up some napkins and pressed them to his nose.
The crowd around us grew quiet, eyes falling over the two alcohol drenched people in the rear. "Nothing to see here folks, it's just a little spill." Jackson snatched some more napkins, wiping his face. "I'm not going to lie, I didn't see that one coming." His voice was more nasally than deep, muffled by the napkins covering his face, and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm so sorry, I don't even know how that happened." Looking myself over, my waist was covered in greasy splotches, chest drenched in cold liquid, and my date was basically bleeding out through his nose. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go clean this up the best I can."
"Sure thing, I'll be right here. And I guess we'll need the waitress now for a little help." Jackson's lips hung awkwardly, sucking in air through his mouth. "Hopefully I don't get black eyes from this." He tried to laugh, but it came out flat and forced.
"I really am sorry," I said, softening my expression. Heading to the bathroom, I said to myself so Lisa could hear, "Smooth move, real smooth."
His voice bellowed back, loud and filled with amusement. "You're telling me. That was good."
"Laugh it up, go ahead."
"I'm trying not to, but Jackson sometimes deserves a drink in the face. The punch was a bit much, but I'm sure he's earned a few of those over the years too."
"Yeah, well, I didn't do it on purpose, otherwise I wouldn't feel so bad about it."
Standing in the bathroom, I did my best to clean up the mess I created. Staring at myself in the mirror, I was embarrassed that I had to walk back out in public that way.
This is awful! How can I sit at the table like this?
I look fucking ridiculous.
And I drew blood from my date. Not a good start, Jen.
The trim of my dress was wet and dark, creating a ring across my breasts that looked like sweat. But the worst part was my lap, it literally looked like I had just pissed myself.
A giant wet spot was decorating the center, and small tiny specks of grease dotted the outer areas. This was not how I expected my night to go. A flash date, ending with me looking like I had a bladder condition and overactive sweat glands, and Jackson looking like he got into a bar fight.
"Hey, you coming out at any point, or do I have to come get you?" Lisa barked in my ear.
"I'm coming, I'm almost done." Pushing the button for the heat dryer, I bent awkwardly beneath the hot air, trying a last ditch effort to dry the areas.
The bathroom door flew open, causing me to freeze in place. But it wasn't any woman, it was Lisa. "What are you doing in here?" I asked.
"Me? What the hell are you doing?" she asked with a smile, nodding to my body ducking beneath the vent.
Forgetting that I was bent unnaturally under the heat, I snapped my spine straight. "I was. . . I was just trying to take care of this." Holding my arms out, the spots were still boldly visible.
"Alright, let's go, date's over," Lisa said, holding her arm out.
"What, really?"
"Yeah, I sent Jackson on his way. And he was glad I ended it, said his hair was starting to stiffen from the drink—which I so kindly pointed out to him was actually his excessive use of gel, not the drink, but whatever. And his face might be a tad swollen." Pinching her fingers close together, she squinted her eyes.
"I really messed this one up, didn't I?"
"No, you did great." Cupping my shoulder, she hugged me tightly. "You didn't let his suave words reel you in, and you didn't let the little mishap send you running out the door. You held your ground and poise, and that was amazing."
"Huh, well, who knew I had poise." Giggling, I joggled my head side to side, flicking the strap of my dress.
I was trying to make light of my clutzy ways. I knew the date ended because I had completely embarrassed Jackson. Everyone in the damn restaurant was staring at us, and the look on his face was of disbelief, not compassion for my butter fingers.
But at that moment, I wasn't too concerned with what Jackson thought of me. I was snuggled under the arm of a woman who made my heart skip. A woman who had charm, and knew how to make a someone feel good about herself, despite her flaws.
When her hand curled over my shoulder, and she pulled me in, I felt perfect.
Everything in that moment felt perfect.
The weight of her arm, the firmness of her muscles.
All of it felt right.
But it's wrong. She's your. . . Teacher.
You can't fall for your teacher.