JENNIE
Dropping off Ella to my mom, I hurried home to get ready for tonight. It was the last date according to Lisa, the final crack at helping me meet someone.
There's no point to this.
She was wasting her time, I wasn't going to scurry out of the restaurant, fingers curled into the hand of some guy I didn't care to ever know.
But I had to go, I needed to go.
I was going to tell her tonight about my pregnancy. I had tried to tell her, but she used her magic touch to erase my mind. Her lips were barely on my skin, but I could feel them, her fingers teased my breast and I became unhinged.
Pulling my hair into a tight bun, I finally felt happy about how it looked. A pleased smile arched across my face, the natural blush highlighting my cheeks.
The whole pregnancy glow was starting to fill in, and this time around it definitely seemed to show up much earlier. When I was pregnant with Ella, I didn't notice anything but the morning sickness for the first two months.
So far, this pregnancy had felt completely different, but it was still early.
There was no sign of the churning stomach—yet, but I felt like my belly was beginning to pop already. To be fair, it was probably just bloating, but I had heard that the second pregnancy typically showed a whole lot sooner.
The dress I chose was filled with bright Hawaiian flowers, the top fit snugly against my chest, my swelling breasts already pillowing over the top. The bottom flared out and flowed to my knees, several loose layers of the material swayed and moved, not even needing a breeze.
Flattening the dress against my small pot belly, I imagined what I was going to look like once I hit six, seven. . . Nine months along, and how miserable I would probably be if it was anything like when I was pregnant with Ella.
By the end of my pregnancy with her, I was ready to climb into my vagina and tear her out myself. The girl came a week overdue, and had spent the last few weeks sitting on my sciatic nerve.
Not only was I incredibly huge, with no ankles left to see, but I had to deal with the sensation of being stabbed in the ass by a serrated blade.
Alright, time to do this.
The drive to the restaurant felt like I was driving to my own funeral. My hands dug into the steering wheel at ten and two, knuckles a hot shade of sun-bleached white. A hollow feeling was echoing in my gut as a wretched cringe of hunger mixed with the storming turn of nerves made me want to throw up.
Which was strange. . . I was still hungry, even though I expected my stomach to explode any moment.
Pregnancy, it's a crazy thing.
Throwing my car into park, I let a heavy breath blow hot air across my tongue. My lips made a raspberry sound, vibrating against each other. Grabbing my purse, I clutched it tightly in my lap, and took the longest stride of my life out of the car.
My nerves were on edge, bouncing around and turning my veins into a boiling mess. All my muscles tensed, then twinged, buzzed, then cooled. Shaking my hand fast, I tried to send the feelings out of my fingertips, and onto the ground.
I've never been so nervous.
How is he going to react?
Forcing my feet forward, my heels clicked against the pavement, creating an echo in my mind. I kept wondering how the hell I was going to make it through this date.
Not only did I have an elephant sitting on my lungs, and my brain torturing itself with worry of how I would ever find the strength to tell Lisa I was pregnant, but I had to sit through another date with some guy I had no desire to be next to.
And that man wasn't even getting a fair chance. I tried with the first one, I tried with the second one—but the third, he was just going to get professional Jennie.
As far as I was concerned, he was another colleague at the school.
The large glass door swung open as a young man held it in place to let me inside. "Hello, Miss, enjoy your evening," he said with a bright smile.
Smiling through closed lips, I kept walking straight to the hostess stand. Another girl, young as the man who held the door, greeted me with a large, toothy grin. "Hello, welcome to Charlie's. Do you have a reservation?" she asked, angling her head to the side and holding a pen, straight as an arrow, over a thin-lined book.
The wood podium she used as her post was a dark cherry color. The intricate design on the trim was hand carved, every detail looked meticulously etched by hours of skilled work.
Curling my fingers over the ledge, I felt the silky lacquer, smooth and invisible to the naked eye. "Um, I'm Jennie, Jennie Kim."
Her eyes lit up, sparkling with a curious excitement. Snapping her head a hair, she shifted the long side bangs out of her eyes. "Ms. Kim, yes, you're a little early." Scanning the list of names, she highlighted a spot (which I assumed was me) near the bottom. "Please take a seat out here or at the bar, your table will be ready in a moment."
With tight lips, I smiled. "Okay, thank you." Turning away from her, I strolled through the foyer and took a seat by the window.
Glancing around, I was struck by an undeniable feeling of not belonging there. The floor was cut from marble that looked like it was shipped over from India, small candle holders sparkled like gold against the french handmade wallpaper.
Checking myself over quickly, I made sure I hadn't accidentally brought in any greasy streaks or substances that might stain the chair I was sitting in.
Can't be too safe, there's shit in the most obscure places at my house.
A few crossed glances were cast my way by a couple waiting across from me, their eyes watching me as if I was beneath them, a sub-human in their glorious world. The woman fiddled with the diamond necklace around her neck, flicking her gaze to her husband and scoffing.
I felt so small, so unwanted in that moment. They looked at me like I was a rat among a bevy of swans, like I was the rough uncut and ugly gem, while they were the perfectly cut emeralds.
Charlie's was one of the few places I hadn't been to in our small city. It was one of those restaurants that screamed money, with dress codes, and fancy crystal chandeliers. It was a place for people who chose pearls over well grafted costume jewelry, and carried themselves with one arm raptored out, while they laughed a laugh they spent years perfecting to blend in with high society.
I was not one of those people, and if I wasn't here for a reason, I wouldn't ever set a foot in the door.
Besides, they probably didn't even carry crayons for children, or would tolerated the various taps and chirps a kid would make.
Fuck that, I was all set.
Stirring uncomfortably in my chair, I crossed my legs, and ignored the death stare from the couple. Looking out the window, I watched people arriving, the men in suits and women in long, flowing gowns.
A twisting nerve in my stomach kept anticipating Lisa walking through the foyer and saving me from making a complete ass of myself—again. Her face hovered like a ghostly apparition as my brain wished for her to show up right at that moment.
I wanted to see her face, her broad shoulders, her messy, but oh so perfect, and touchable hair.
She said she would be here, just not right away.
I'm alone, on a date, and my love guru isn't here to help.
"Ms. Kim, your table is ready." The blonde hostess stood by her post, menu in hand like a school text book.
Standing briskly, I hugged my purse against my ribs, and followed her through the grand archway. Watching my feet as we walked, I placed each one methodically on the smooth marble.
This was not a place I wanted to tumble head over heels, and land ass up for everyone to see my backside.
Voices hummed around us like a symphony, laughing mingled with conversation, deep tones were highlighted by sweet high pitches. The scent of gourmet meals traveled through the air on aromatic waves.
And my stomach twisted with a dying hunger.
This food better be as good as it smells.
Taking another cautious step, I hit a wall. Literally.
The hostess had stopped, and I (because I wasn't paying any attention) had walked clear into her back, shoving her forward. Her body joggled in a momentary balance on her toes, arms scrambling to regain her perfect posture.
Throwing my hands out, I grabbed her shoulders, and kept her upright. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"
"Well, that wasn't the grand entrance I was hoping for, but then again, at least you kept your poise." Her voice hit my ears and for a second I stood like a stunned animal.
I couldn't speak, I couldn't hear anything around me, and all the eyes I had been highly aware of when I accidentally tripped the hostess, suddenly disappeared.
Lisa was standing by the table in front of me, a light grin spreading over her firm lips. She was dressed to the nines; a fierce black suit with a bright white button-up underneath, the two top buttons hanging open and showing a hint of her chiseled chest.
She looked amazing. Sexy and strong, she stood with her arm bent across her stomach, head angling into a smile that made my knees weak.
Holding her hand out, she gripped my wrist and pulled me in. I still hadn't spoken, no words finding their way to my tongue. I didn't even know what to say, I was caught completely off guard because she wasn't supposed to be here.
"Well, say something already." Her massive thumb caressed the nub of my wrist, eyes tearing into my core and licking my body all in the same breath.
"What are you doing here? Did I get stood-up?"
That would be fine with me if mystery man wasn't showing up.
Chuckling, she spoke in a low penetrating voice. "No, it's the complete opposite. I am your date."
Her words infiltrated my body, sending a sharp bolt of lightening down my spine. "Wh. . . What? What do you mean?" I felt all my muscles surge with numbing pinpricks, every hair standing on end. "You can't be serious?"
Her fingers turned into swirling tornadoes, finding and touching every ridge across my hand, my arm, even the small crease in my elbow. "I'm nothing but serious, Jennie."
The hostess cleared her throat, speaking quickly. "I'll just leave these here," she said before turning and walking away.
"What's going on, Lisa? Why would you be here as my date?" Looking up into her deep golden eyes, she stayed static with thin grinning lips.
The pressure of her fingers increased, lighting my skin on fire. They were firm, confident, and needy. "Because I am the match for you." Slipping her hand over the small of my back, she guided me to my seat. "Let's have our date, come sit."
Stepping to the chair across from me, she sat down, and placed her hands on the table with palms open. Wiggling her fingers, I placed my hands in her. "You can ask me anything you want, and I'll answer. This date is for you, for us, I'm an open book for you tonight."
"But you said no personal questions, what happened with that?" I didn't want to send her running if I questioned her motives for the date, but she had made it more than clear that she wasn't into being with anyone.
What the hell is she doing?
"That was before, that was when I worked for you. I'm not working for you anymore, Jennie. I can't."
"I'm sorry, I'm so confused right now. You made it clear you weren't looking for anyone, why this change of heart?" I sat, watching her, breathing her in.
This was exactly what I wanted, and yet it felt unreal. She had been untouchable, a woman out of my reach, holding the spark inches from the fuse, but refusing to light it.
Lisa's eyes drifted over my face. They danced over my nose, stopping at my lips, and rising to meet my gaze. "Jennie, I tried so hard to not let my feelings for you get in the way of what I spent years building up. My name, my career, I was holding all of it above my own happiness. I can't do it anymore, I won't do it anymore." Squeezing my hands, she laced our fingers together.
She spoke with a firmness, there was no hint of uncertainty in her voice. Her words were clear, climbing through my ears and digging into my brain.
Feelings for me?
She has feelings for me?
My chest was anxiously stretching to take in air, mind trying to make sense of what she was saying.
"Why now? Why didn't you listen to me that night in your car? I told you what I felt, but you let me walk away, you could've said something then." I was holding her hands as tightly as she was holding mine. It felt incredible to be touching her in such a personal way, a true sign of connecting, a real show of truth.
"Because I wasn't ready. . ." Pausing, her eyes searched mine. "I wasn't ready to let myself be right."
"Right about what?" Furrowing my brows, I kept my eyes steady on her. "About having feelings for someone?"
My heart ached at the idea of her wanting to love but fear holding her back. No one deserved to feel that type of loneliness.
That was one thing I was learning about myself with this experience. Everyone deserved to be happy.
My first love had been stolen from me, but having that love for even a second of time was better than never having it all.
Loving someone meant you were open to hurting, it meant you were open to living. And having had the chance to even love my husband blessed my life with the greatest love I would ever experience.
The love of my daughter.
But that didn't mean I could never love again. It didn't mean that I had spend the rest of my life alone. I deserved to feel full and happy too.
"About knowing what I wanted and knowing what was right there at my fingertips. I had a rough life, I never felt like I was good enough to be loved." Slipping a hand free, Lisa dragged it over her jaw, then shuffled it through her hair. "I had a different date set up for you tonight, but I couldn't let you do it."
Cupping my lips, I couldn't stop my eyes from tearing. "You did?"
"The thought of you with someone else, it killed me inside."
Glancing around the room, I kicked my eyes to the ceiling. "Is it wrong for me to say I'm happy to hear you say that?"
A smile slipped over her strong jaw, her fingers twining around mine. "It's not wrong at all."
The baby. . .
Do I tell her now?
"Lisa, I. . . I need to—" Cutting myself off, I shook my head and looked down at the silverware, sweeping my fingers over the utensils. "Never mind." There was a desire to blurt out my secret, but it just didn't seem right.
Lisa was brave enough to let out some of her feelings for me, and when I saw the spark in her eye, I went against my gut instinct.
There would be time to tell her later; for now, I wanted to just enjoy this moment.
The moment where two people decided they were meant for each other.
The moment where fear didn't control what feelings were passed between us.
The moment where right was both of us accepting what we felt.