Chapter 5

Deja felt like hell the next day. Not only did she stay out late the night before, but she had to work her full time job at the insurance agency and then head over to Lucy's for the night. Even though last night was perfect, she vowed never to have a late date on a weeknight again. She felt as if she looked like death run over twice, and hoped that Mort wouldn't show up at the diner. Much to her chagrin he was seated in his usual spot. He spotted her entrance and his face lit up. He was unavoidable, so she decided the easiest thing would be to go over and say hello.

"Hi Mort."

"Hey," he replied. "I wasn't sure if you were working, but I thought I'd take a chance...and here you are, lucky me," he smiled.

His smile was gorgeous. Everything about him was gorgeous. He had the best bone structure she'd ever seen and she could get lost in his deep, chocolate colored eyes. How did she get so lucky as to meet him? Her luck with men was beyond horrible, but things seemed to have finally brightened for her.

"Well, let me get started. Mike, my boss, doesn't like when I fraternize with the customers while I'm on the clock," she rolled her eyes. "Will you still be here during my break?"

"Definitely," he replied.

Over the next two hours she worked continuously, slyly stealing glances of Mort whenever the opportunity arose. Finally during her break she was able to give Mort 30 minutes of her time. The 30 minutes was up way too fast in both of their opinions, but he told her he'd stick around until closing. Because Mike had to head home a little earlier, he left Deja to close up alone. She told Mort he didn't need to stick around, but Mort figured he could help her out and she could get home earlier since she was so tired. After Mike walked out, she locked the door and turned on the CD player in the back. In it was Maroon 5's "Songs About Jane" one of Deja's favorite CDs. Whenever she was left to close alone those songs would keep her company while she cleaned. She quickly turned it to the number 9 song, Secret. Completely forgetting Mort was even in the building let alone the same room, Deja began singing and swaying her body to the music.

"...I know I don't know you

But I want you so bad

Everyone has a secret

Oh, can they keep it

Oh no they can't..."

Deja didn't know just how relevant the words she sang were. She got into her routine of cleaning and after about a minute she finally remember Mort was there. Her face immediately grew hot from embarrassment. She prayed he wasn't watching her. She slowly turned around and there he was beaming from ear to ear. He obviously enjoyed the show she was putting on.

"Why'd you stop?" he questioned.

She felt like such an idiot. "I totally forgot you were here," she admitted.

"Well, by all means, keep forgetting I'm here and go back to singing and that little dance you were doing," he replied.

"Don't think so," she said as she shook her head.

She got back to her cleaning and Mort went back to whatever it was he was doing, spying on her more than likely.

In about 10 minutes they were finished and she was locking up.

"Thanks for helping out tonight. It made things go faster," Deja said.

"My pleasure," he said. "Well, I guess I'll be going now. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she answered happily.

Again he gave her a small peck on the cheek and she got into her car and drove off.

Deja worked at the diner three other nights that week and each night Mort Rainey was there. She had even heard from a few of the other waitresses that he'd come in on nights that she wasn't working. He normally only stayed long enough to drink his one cup of coffee those days and he'd back home again.

It was Friday night and Mike said he would close the diner up. As Mort walked her to her car, preparing to say goodnight, Deja did something that surprised even her. She invited Mort back to her place. She didn't have to work the next day and figured they could rent a movie and hang out. Plus she was dying to finally be completely alone with him. They'd spent hours at the diner together and every night he would end it with a peck on the cheek. She was determined to put that to an end tonight. Although she wasn't normally this forward with men, she figured it was do or die time. Mort keenly agreed. He got in his car and followed Deja to Blockbuster to rent Casablanca. He had actually never seen the movie and being that Humphrey Bogart was a favorite of Deja's, she said it was the one movie he had to see before he died.

They walked into her house and she told Mort to make himself comfortable in her living room. She went into her bedroom and put on a pair of comfortable jogging shorts and a tank top. When she was lounging she had to be comfortable. By the time she came back into the living room, Mort had already popped in the movie and was waiting for her to return. She asked him if he wanted anything to drink, but because he was already filled up on coffee he figured it best to not take her up on her offer or he'd miss half the movie for being in the restroom.

The seating arrangements were a little awkward at first. She wanted to be near him, but didn't want to give him the impression that she 'wanted' him. She aptly sat on the left side of the couch and Mort was on the right. By the end of the movie Deja found herself nestled up in Mort's arms. She couldn't quite remember how she got there, but she did know that it felt wonderful in his arms. He seemed to have dozed off and was now slowly waking. He looked down to find himself wrapped around Deja's petite body. As he was noticing their peculiar position (and wondering just how they'd ended up that way) he saw her look up at him. She seemed to be embarrassed. That's the last thing Mort wanted her to feel.

Deja sat up and looked him directly in the eyes. He took her face in his hands and moved his lips close to hers. Letting their faces linger in this position was torture for Deja. She wanted to feel his lips on hers in the worst way. But Mort wanted this moment to tarry. He wanted it to be special. Then, when neither of them could stand the closeness any longer, he pressed his mouth to hers. She could feel his tongue snaking into her mouth and she willingly accepted it. Their kisses intensified. They were both in need of air, but neither wanted to come up for it. Deja ran her hands through his hair and moaned with passion. He lifted her up so that she was now straddling him on the couch. His hands roamed freely over her body as she continued to caress his head. She wanted him so badly, but didn't want to take it to that level quite yet. She wanted him to really want her. They were enthralled in a moment of passion, but he had to truly want her before she felt she could giver herself to him entirely. Suddenly, Deja broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Mort inquired.

"Nothing...but it's getting late and...I think you should be going before...this gets out of hand," she answered.

"Are you sure?" he asked, wanting to make sure that she didn't want to go further, because God knows he did.

She laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure," she said, removing herself from on top of him.

She began walking to the door to grab Mort's keys from the key hanger. Mort walked over to her and thanked her for a great evening.

"Call me tomorrow?" Deja asked.

"Definitely," he replied. And with that he leaned over and gave her another peck on the cheek and began walking to his car.

Deja couldn't believe it. They had just kissed so passionately and he was back to the 'cheek thing' again? I guess she had a lot to learn about Mort Rainey, she thought as she watched him drive away.