Not accustomed to being wined and dined, the timid red head almost fainted when she opened the menu. This was the Black Orchid Café; expensive in her estimation, but the bill for this meal would no doubt be a pittance to him, not that he would ever let on. He would appear shocked when he saw the total, then smile nervously and tell her that nothing was too good for her. It worked like a charm each and every time.

Even though the clientele was a tad older than he had expected, this place was exotic, intimate and the soft jazz guitar playing in the background was a nice touch. But they could be at Burger King for all he cared, as long as he was gifted with the sight of soft candlelight falling upon that innocent face.

"Oh…my…God," she whispered as her wide eyes scanned the entire restaurant, one of the most romantic and exclusive in the Miami area. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Yes, I'm sure. This is your night, Cynthia. Order anything you want," he reassured her.

"Oh my God," she repeated in a voice so high pitched, Jackson was certain only dogs could hear her. "When I tell the girls at work about this, they are going to die!"

Jackson took a sip of wine and brought his napkin up to his mouth in an effort to conceal his grin. "How right you are, my dear," he thought.

"I still can't believe I'm here. When we first met, I could have sworn you were talking to my boss, Lisa or anybody but me."

He remembered their first meeting well; she'd had no self esteem then either and that continued to puzzle him.

Their meeting had been happenstance. He shouldn't have spoken to her; it was an unnecessary risk but Jackson was never one to fight his destiny.

He'd been casing out the Lux Atlantic as part of this job and he'd seen more than his fair share of Lisa Reisert during that time. Intriguing at first, like all his new targets initially seemed, he was already growing bored with her, but her assistant, Cynthia; that had been another matter entirely. A bit ditzy, but oh so cute; once Jackson had laid eyes on her, he'd been hooked.

When Lisa had stepped away to deal with yet another middle aged couple pissing and moaning about something entirely inconsequential, he approached. While her back was still turned to him, he'd asked if he could buy her a drink after work. She spun around and stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then looked in all directions to see if anyone else was around.

"Me?" she asked, looking unnecessarily confused.

"Yes…Cynthia," he answered, reading from her name tag.

"Okay," she said sheepishly.

They had met at a café around the corner later that evening and the rest was history.

Now on their fifth date, Jackson noticed that she was wearing that same white dress she always wore to work and he wondered why. Was it the nicest one she owned? That would be sad if it were true and unbeknownst to her, when her employment at the Lux Atlantic ended in a few days, he would see to it that her wardrobe improved dramatically.

"Isn't she your type? She's everyone's type," Cynthia said with just a hint of jealously in her voice.

"No, it's my policy to never get involved with green eyed women."

"Why?" she asked, reaching for her glass

"Because women with green eyes are evil," he whispered as if it were a conspiracy.

"And girls with brown eyes?"

He paused, taking her hand for added effect. "I could fall in love with a brown eyed girl," he told her and when his fingers brushed her wrist, he felt her racing pulse and knew that things were going all too well.

The line was so cheesy, he wasn't certain that even a man as charming as Jackson Rippner could pull it off, but she ate it up, emitting a high pitched squeal that drew the attention of several other patrons.

He looked into her giddy eyes and smiled.

She was putty in his hands.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Called away by the untimely death of Lisa's grandmother, he slipped out of Cynthia's apartment early the next morning being careful not to wake her. He placed a red rose on the nightstand beside her and underneath that flower laid a small piece of folded paper. It contained a solitary promise.

"See you soon."