Please don't change, please don't break. The only thing that seems to work at all is you.
Please don't change at all from me to you and you to me.
- Matchbox 20, Real World
Thomas Kessler tugs on his lapels frisked by the air as he stands waiting outside Del Posto. It's not cold but noticeably cooler denoting a soon to be change in the seasons and he shrugs his hands into his pockets with a short sigh. He's always hated the transition from Fall to Winter. It's dreary and the months seem to crawl along more slowly until the bustle and excitement of Christmas sweeps in but he relaxes slightly, deciding there's still time to appreciate the milder nights as Donna Paulsen exits a cab in front of him.
Her dress is unburdened by layers, paired with a simple over the shoulder blazer and he smiles broadly as she approaches him.
"Good to see you again Donna," he greets, fingers grazing her elbow as he leans in to place a kiss against her cheek. She's the perfect embodiment of the season, her hair matching the red and golden leaves gracing the street and he's a little nervous when he pulls back. "You look stunning."
"Thank you." She doesn't blush at the compliment because that would be cliche but she does smile warmly as her gaze washes over him. He's a handsome man especially when dressed in a suit but she resolved not to be swayed by his good looks. At the end of the day he's still Louis' client and the notion breathes an air of caution urging her to keep a polite distance between them.
It's only a subtle move but he picks up on it, his lips quirking curiously. "Everything okay?"
She debates whether or not to raise her concerns because despite her reservations she does feel at ease in his company. They've been working closely now for the better part of three months but this is their first actual date and the last time she got involved in a work related relationship it didn't exactly end well. Still, with all the drama it caused, Stephen Huntley has set the bar pretty low and based on the assumption Thomas isn't a murderer she decides to a risk and be honest with him. "I just want to make sure we're both on the same page. Louis is a very close friend of mind and given you're his client..."
The sentence hangs briefly and he intercepts it trying to smooth over her doubts. "Donna, my interest in you is purely personal. It has nothing to do with my business at the firm if that's what you're worried about."
It is, sort of. There's also the problematic fact that if something went wrong Louis would be forced to take sides and she's one hundred percent certain he would choose team Donna, though she doesn't directly admit it. "I'm just concerned it could have an impact."
"Like if I offend you horribly and Louis refuses to ever speak to me again?"
"Or I'm offensive and you decide to pull your business form the firm." She evens the playing field causing an easy smile to flash across his lips.
"Look, I'm not saying these are ideal circumstances-" he admits freely, actually enjoying the candor. It's rare to meet someone who, like himself, prefers to be open and upfront from the start and it reminds him again why he's so hooked on the potentially bad idea. "Why don't we make a deal?" He suggests, putting forward a quick and simple solution, "Carte Blanche. If things start to go south tonight and someone wants out we do it, not questions asked."
She likes the twist. No excuses or emergency phone calls just an easy to follow escape plan and she extends her hand with a smile, "you have yourself a deal."
They shake on it and she feels instantly more relaxed. All that's left to do is actually go on the date and she releases him motioning towards the door of the restaurant. "Shall we?"
"No." He decides, taking in her perplexed look with a grin.
She's admittedly intrigued by the mysterious glint in his eyes and echoes the answer back to him. "No?"
"Why don't we do something a little different?" He suggests, relying on instinct and going out on a limb. The idea of a fancy dinner suddenly seems stale and formal. He wants to get to know her properly, the real Donna Paulsen, and he raises an eyebrow daring her to accept the challenge. "What do you say, trust me?"
There's something about his smirk that draws her in and for a brief second it reminds her of Harvey, the resemblance catching her off guard. Quick to dismiss the similarity she tilts her head agreeing to the spontaneity. "We're about to find out."
His answering grin is endearing and she links with his arm blinding following his direction. Some would consider it a risk but he genuinely seems like one of the good guys and after the mess with Stephen she needs to learn to start trusting herself again.
Fortunately, tonight her intuition seems to be on point.
The Jazz Bowling club is an interesting choice to say the least. She's never seen anything like it before and she knows everywhere in Manhattan, her curiosity peaking at the intimate but electric feel. Mellow tunes lead the way to a dimly lit bowling alley with only a few lanes and a large emphasis on the red velvet and polished wood sofas. It has the potential to come across as seedy but doesn't. Instead it has an exclusive vibe with the majority of high class patrons choosing the bar.
They don't, heading straight for the lanes, and a surprisingly fun competitive streak rears itself as they set up to play enjoying a casual relaxed conversation. Midway through she learns the reason is because he has brothers which meant a lot of competing at sports growing up. Her excuse is just the natural born desire to be awesome.
"It's a Donna thing." She insists, picking up her ball from the conveyor belt. She chose red because it's a commonly known fact red things go faster and she takes three steps up to the line letting it go with a slight spin. It ends up taking out six pins and she grins making her way back to him. "See."
He'll admit he's impressed but keeps it to himself as he trades places with her. "Why don't I show you how it's done?"
"Because then we'd be here all night." She teases, enjoying the view as he lines himself up and she can't help but admire his strong stature. Though she isn't just taken with his good looks. Sure he's classically handsome, tall with a chiseled jaw and immaculate hair. What women wouldn't swoon over him? But it's more than that. He's light hearted, doesn't take himself too seriously and she already knows the names of his family members. He isn't afraid to be open and she likes that but it does make her start to wonder why he's still single and when he matches her six pins her lips pull into a goading smile. "So," she prompts, putting off her turn to quiz him, "you have a good job, solid family, you don't like clowns which makes you seem like a well rounded probably not crazy individual-"
"Why aren't I married with six kids?" He anticipates the question and let's out a low laugh. He almost was, once, but it was more for the sake of expectation rather than actually being in love. "To be honest my career has always been my first priority. I date but at the end of day no one likes to put up with the long hours and I've never had a connection that was worth making the sacrifice for."
It's a good answer, one she can relate to but it also comes with a sense of foreboding. "Then this would be...?"
"Surprising." He admits, his lips curving at her intrigued expression. He has fun, he's only human after all, but opening up to her all night has been entirely effortless. There's just something about her that makes him feel comfortable, excited, nervous and charged all at once. "What about you? Any crazy I should know about?"
It feels like a possible misdirect but she goes along with it anyway, tapping a finger to her lips, "I do sometimes refer to myself in the third person."
"Ah-" he points with mock trepidation, "classic sign of a serial killer."
"Deal breaker?" She asks feigning innocence.
"Thomas doesn't think so." The response causes her to to laugh and the sound washes over him. Maybe it's the one or two cocktails he's consumed but if it was his sole purpose to keep her smiling like that, he'd be one hell of a lucky man. "So we know why I'm single," he urges cheekily, "how about you?"
It's feels more personal when its being directed at her but she asked him first so it's only fair she tries to give him an honest answer. "Same as you I..." she hesitates for a beat, "I might have some small commitment issues but aside from that I'm pretty much perfect." She throws him a wry smile, shying away from giving too much detail. It's not like she hasn't tried to make relationships work but like him there's never been anyone -who reciprocated her feelings- that she felt she could be with long-term. Mitchell had been her last attempt and when he'd asked her to move in she simply hadn't been able to imagine a future with him. "Guess I'm still waiting for the right person to come along."
He nods at the whimsical note laying his cards flat on the table, hoping it will reassure her. "Donna, I wouldn't have asked you out if I wasn't interested in having a relationship," he shares seriously, "but I'm also comfortable being on my own so no pressure. I'm just happy to relax and see where this goes."
She smiles, feeling a wash of relief. The fact they're both on the same page is exactly what she needed to hear and her mouth quirks, reassured by their mutual agreement. "Are you happy for me to keep kicking your butt?"
"I'm happy for you to try."
His answering grin proves to be fortuitous because even though she manages to hold her own he comes in at the last set with a full strike winning the game. She tries to appear humble, offering her hand in a show of good sportsmanship but when he reaches out to take it she pulls back with a sharp tug. "You do realise you're supposed to let the girl win right?"
"Something tells me that would have gotten me into even more trouble." He gleams accepting her palm with a gentlemanly shake. "You also had a slight disadvantage. I've never seen anyone walk in shoes like those before let alone bowl in them."
"Clearly you've never seen fashion at it's finest." She smirks grateful for the attention to detail and that the club had carpeted the area making it appropriate for all footwear. Though had she conceded and removed her stilettos she's sure she would have definitely wiped the floor with him.
He can see the retort forming and keeping a hold of her hand he steps in a little closer heading it off. "I have a suspicion you could wear anything and look like you've just stepped off a runaway."
Her neck flushes at the compliment but rather than give him the satisfaction she berates him with an eye-roll. "Please, really?"
"Too cheesy?"
"Only a lot."
He laughs at the candor and risks grasping her other hand with a gentle swing. "So asking you to dance is out of the question then?"
"Definitely." She nods despite the smile curving her lips. Usually she wouldn't shy away from drawing attention but it's exactly a 'club' scene and she's about to suggest another time when he beats her to it.
"How about this Friday night instead?" He asks pushing down his nerves with a casual shrug, "and I promise if there are any games I'll let you win."
It's a good incentive and she thinks about making a joke, pretending to check her schedule or something similar but his light touch deters it. She's actually excited and her cheeks warm under his gaze. "I'd like that."
He exhales the breath he'd been holding with a pleased nod. "In that case, how would you feel about a nightcap?"
It's incredibly temping but she wants to savour some of the magic, take things slowly and she politely declines the offer. "As much fun as I'm having-"
"You'd like me to drop you home?" He guesses, not at all offended. It is closing in on midnight and he releases her hands guiding his own to the small of her back. "After you."
She smiles in response, leading him through the narrow turns and up the stairs to the exit. It's still mild outside but she stays close to his warmth as he steps onto the curb to hail a cab. One stops at his clear concise whistle and he pulls the door open with a chivalrous grin. "Your chariot awaits."
She drops a fake curtsy causing him to laugh but before she climbs in she stops, her hand brushing the fabric of his lapel. "I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you Thomas."
He swallows at the contact feeling the burn of her touch through his jacket but he forces himself to show restraint as he leans in casually. "Is it too cheesy to say the pleasure was all mine."
"I'll let you have it." Her eyes are bright as she smiles, "one time only deal."
He doesn't have a response because he's too focused on the curve of her lips and with a quick flick of his wrist he brushes the hair back from her face pausing for a beat. He doesn't want to rush her but when she doesn't pull away and he takes the cue capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, without expectation, and her fingers close around the edge of his jacket pulling him the tiniest bit closer.
It's a perfect end to the night and when they part she thanks him again, climbing into the cab with a wave. Rachael is going to lose it when she hears all the details and she pulls out her phone unable to wait until the morning.
Best. Date. Ever.
She sends the text knowing if her friend is still up she'll be getting a call almost immediately. When it rings a second later she isn't disappointed and answers with a wide smile on her lips.
Thomas Kessler, maybe not such as bad idea after all.