Surviving Stephanie Chapter 13
Disclaimer: Still not Janet. Still not making any cash.
Note: I hope this isn't disappointing guys. Nothing big happens, but hopefully its amusing anyway!
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The first order of business was to grab Benny Boo from where he lay abandoned and glittery on the living room rug and carry him back to the bedroom. He fit into the back of the closet quite nicely. It was a good place, handy to drag him out and throw things at, but out of the way enough no one was going to stumble over him. Then I hung the dress up on the bedroom door, ceremonial place of honor for all new dresses in my world, and began the process of ransacking Stephanie's shoe supply. I had seen the perfect shoes in here earlier, I just had to find them....
While I pillaged the closet, I let half my brain work out make-up colors and hair ideas. My hair looked freaking awesome down, but I wasn't sure it would go with my dress... then again, long loose, run-your-fingers-through-it hair always worked in my experience. At least as far as the guy was concerned. Of course, if you put the hair up, some guys like looking at your shoulders or neck...
Look, I know, I'm putting way too much thought into this. I am a strategist at heart, okay? Abruzzi thinks planning battles is fun, but he's stupid. Battles are nothing. Planning a seduction, now that's a challenge. Especially when you're not just aiming at let's-fuck seduction. That's too easy. Oh no, the seduction I wanted to work on Jack was more permanent. I didn't want him proposing or spouting sonnets, but I wanted him... into me. Ew, get your head out of the gutter. I just said not sex. Not yet, anyway.
I wanted Jack for a prospective boyfriend. Which takes some effort. There are guys you date, guys you marry, and guys you have an actual relationship with. Okay, so guys you marry fall into that category, but it's sort of an advanced sub category of relationships... damn it, I'm rambling. I must be nervous. What the hell? Why am I--- oh.
I sat back on my heels, the strappy silver shoes dangling absently from one hand. I was nervous about maintaining my Stephanie persona. I was nervous I wouldn't get a chance to impress Jack before the Not-so-Caped Crusader and the Italian Wonder Cop jumped in. And they would, at least one of them if not both. They're alpha males. They do this. It's the over protective genetic. At least they probably wouldn't club me over the head and drag me back to the cave. Umm... hopefully.
I shoved the whole thing out of my mind and began assembling my outfit. I dug through Steph's lingerie drawer first. Now this just freaked me out on that whole identity crisis level again. Mainly because these were someone else's purchases, someone else thought the boy-cut briefs with the Wonder Woman logo were cute. I managed to pretend it was a Victoria Secret sale until I had the white lace French-Cut drawers on and then I made myself forget about it. No bra would go under the dress except maybe a strapless, and I wasn't going to deal with one. I've had the worst luck with those stupid things. They fall down, they move, they wrinkle, they... come off. Yeah. See, God made me a B-cup for a reason. It means I could... hell. I could pass the braless test, but what about Stephanie?
I scrunched my nose and closed my eyes. Only one way to find out, and it was my damned body for now anyway. Time to get comfy with it.
I threw a T-shirt on and scrounged through the house until I found a number two pencil. It took a moment of puffing up my courage before I could lift a boob and put the pencil under it.
The pencil fell out.
I did a happy dance around the fallen pencil. Victory was mine! No strapless bras! I fairly skipped back to the bedroom in relief.
The last crisis overcome, I slipped the dress on, strapped on the heels and searched until I found some jewelry to match it. There were silver accents on the shoulders of the dress so, I was torn about whether or not to add a choker. Eventually I just put on some very long dangly delicate silver earrings and went without the cute choker. However this meant the hair had to be away from my face...
I frowned into the mirror and weighed my options. Eventually I decided on pulling it back into a low ponytail at the nape of my neck a la Ranger. It probably wouldn't have worked if I hadn't just escaped the salon with the usual model-like shine. The right shimmer and coverage in the make-up, some silvery shimmering highlights to the eyes, lots of lip gloss, and hello Hotness.
I smiled at my reflection. No way did I look thirty. Maybe twenty-something, but I was willing to bet if you put me in the right lighting I'd be getting carded. Yay for good genetics!
I added some silver bangles and went out to show my new look off to Rex. He actually stopped running long enough to blink twice. I thought that was a good sign, and gave him an extra grape for a reward. I was still giggling over watching his little butt wiggle at the entrance of the soup can when there was a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach was invaded by an army of large angry butterflies. I checked the peephole before I opened, more to give myself time than out of habit.
The butterflies went away. It was Jack... and Jack was... the little Chelsea in my head screamed: "Bloody gorgeous! Why the hell aren't you dragging him through the door and shagging his brains out?"
Because that was not part of the strategy, I reminded myself as I opened the door, smiling.
Jack's eyes flared, and his jaw dropped a fraction of an inch. For a Rangeman that was damn near a drooling moment. I smiled wider and stepped back to let him in.
"Sorry, I'm not totally ready yet."
"You're not?" he raised his eyebrows, his gaze sweeping over me again. "You're breathtaking," he said as his eyes met mine again, and he said it with a straight face. Wow. This guy was hella good for my ego. Maybe I should tape him so Stephanie can have it when she gets back.
"You're pretty gorgeous yourself," I said nervously. "Have a seat on the couch. Do you want anything to drink? Soda, or-"
"I'm fine, Stephanie," he smiled. Wow he had pretty eyes... all green and sparkly and... eek. I sound like a teeny bopper! Too many Hilary Duff songs...
"I'll be just a second," I told him, turning tail to escape back into the bedroom before something embarrassing escaped me.
I closed the door, grabbed the pretty little white clutch purse and began dumping various items from the large ugly black thing into it. Cell phone, ID, credit cards, mace. You know, the important things. I would have taken cuffs or a gun but there wasn't room, and anyway, Jack worked at Rangeman. I was pretty sure he had a gun or two with him... plus there had been a vague something about his back. It looked kind of like there might have been a gun under the expensively cut suit jacket.
I wandered back out, purse in hand. "Ready now!" I announced, watching closely as he stood up. Okay, weird, because I didn't see anything... "Do you have a gun on you?" I asked.
He nodded. "Shoulder holster."
"Do you always carry a gun on a date?" I bit my lip, considering the possible implications. Stephanie's reputation apparently proceeded me. Jack's lips quirked in an almost-smile.
"Not all the time. But when the girl has a guy like Eddie Abruzzi leaving her snakes and spiders, I figured it might be a good idea."
I laughed at that- he did have a point after all. "Good enough. Because I don't have anywhere to carry one in this outfit, or in my purse."
The smile became a real one and he stepped forward, taking my hand in his and bending over it in a courtly bow incongruous with his California surfer looks. "Fear not, fair maiden, I will protect you."
The mini-Chelsea in my head swooned. Looking into his clear green eyes, almost feeling the warmth of his voice wrapping around me, I very nearly followed her. Oh hell, Janet. What kind of world have you put me in? Must every single one of these guys know the exactly right moves?
"Why, thank you, Sir Jack. I'll hold you to that," I managed to say, around the pounding in my ears.
His grin became almost wolfish. Dude, again, must all of these guys have that look? No wonder Stephanie has issues, they all spend half the time looking at her like she's lunch. Not that this is an entirely bad thing, mind you... Okay, never mind, I am not complaining. It beats the boys at home looking at me with the completely obvious bedroom eyes. The men here just look at you like 'I am going to strip you and make you scream my name repeatedly' while I'm used to 'I wonder what color your nipples are.' It just takes some adjusting to.
"After you, Stephanie," he said, opening the door and ushering me through and holding out his hand for the keys. I let him lock up, and shivered slightly as a new thought began creeping into my head.
The guys here, Jack, Ranger, Joe, even Mac, they weren't exactly what I was used to dealing with. But how much of that was just the setting, the age gap? Were they really different, or were they just better with the motions?
It was going to be fun figuring out, I was sure.
Jack took my arm and we headed for the elevator.
"How did you find out about the spiders?" I asked him, curious. Okay, so the whole 'Burg probably knew, but I didn't think Rangeman was included in the collective.
Jack gave me a disbelieving look. "The cops have been talking about it all day," he said after a tenth of a beat too long. So, while plausible, that wasn't it.
"Really? I wondered if my running into that telephone pole didn't knock out the GPS chip," I said blandly. Jack blinked at me, his eyes lighting with amusement.
"What makes you think we have a GPS on you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Not you so much. More Ranger. Because he either has some kind of tracking device on it somewhere or he just magically knows where I am nintey-nine point nine percent of the time."
Jack shrugged. I recognized this shrug. It was one my dad used when I was right but he wasn't going to admit it. I let it go.
"Are we doing anything after Rossini's?"
"You don't do subtle subject changes, do you?" Jack asked, smiling. Wow. He apparently found me entertaining as all hell, cause he was doing that a lot. It made him hotter though, so again not going to complain.
"Sorry," I shrugged. "I could try again?"
"I'm actually not sure. I figured we could play it by ear. Maybe a movie, maybe a walk in the park..." I didn't get to hear his last suggestion because my phantom-Chelsea let out a fan-girl scream and a stream of British slang.
I'm not sure about other people, but after about a million horrible dates I have this habit of imagining what my best friends would do, say, or advise at critical junctures. This is sometimes unfortunate, but most of the time it keeps me from doing anything too stupid. And it is hard to keep a mood going when you have Renee telling you she's going to kick your ass or Chelsea hissing discouraging British slang at you.
"A walk in the park sounds like fun," I said honestly, tuning out the phantom friends in my head. I had enough identity crises at the moment. "I haven't done that in a long time."
"Me either... does Trenton even have parks?" he asked, opening the door of the car we'd arrived at. My eyes widened as I realized it was a silver Aston Martin. A DB9 convertible, to be precise. Bloody hell, what did these guys do? How much did a job at RangeMan freaking pay? Government contracts are not this lucrative. On the other hand, no wonder Ranger didn't mind Stephanie destroying his Porsches, when even employees could afford Aston freaking Martins.
I pulled my jaw back together. "Nice car."
"Thanks, it's new." Yeah, as in it just came out. I nodded, sliding in without another word. I was dead and in heaven. A heaven filled with beautiful men with sexy cars... yeah, I could almost buy that if it weren't for the spiders.
Jack got behind the wheel and thoughtfully put the top up. The air was cooling off and my hair would have been a nightmare anyway. Then we were off; Jack slipping into that weird Driving Zen State that seems popular with Ranger and company. 'Constant vigilance!' as Mad-Eye Moody would have barked, 'Constant vigilance!'
Maybe that's where they learned their impressive powers, I thought trying not to laugh. Ranger as Harry Potter... I began mentally recasting the books to amuse myself, which actually was amazingly entertaining, keeping my head busy and away from sensitive matters all the way to the restaurant parking lot.
Jack was out and opening my door before I even fully realized we were there. He grinned as he helped me out and I was struck with the odd thought that he would have made a great Marauder. Maybe Lupin?
He took my arm and pulled me in close as we walked through the doors. The maitre-d, a very Italian sort of guy in a perfectly pressed suit and tie, smiled broadly.
"Ah, Mr. Ryan! Your table is waiting!" he said, with a snap of his fingers. A younger man arrived, obviously flustered and looking like he might keel over from a nervous breakdown at any moment. "Take Mr. Ryan and his beautiful guest to their table," the maitre-D ordered sternly. Damn, he could have given a drill sergeant a run for his money...
"He was a drill sergeant, Steph," Jack whispered. How the hell do they do that? Janet, not fair giving the guys ESP. I want a superpower.