Author's note: Congrats to Kittypawswrites for the right answer to the trivia question. It was Spaceballs. You're right. I did make it too easy. I'll have to challenge you guys more next time. Usual thanks to the usual suspects. A special un thank you to the vicious head cold I have right now. You're killing me, Smalls? (Oh, good trivia question: What is that quote from?) I'll try to write and post more often, but life has a nasty habit of getting in the way, so forgive me if there is some lag time. Same with responses to your reviews. I try to write back, but sometimes reality interferes.
Chapter 19
Heather sat hip to hip with Jim in the limo. He wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her into him. "Are you excited, my dear?"
"Yes. Where are we going? You never told the name of the restaurant." Heather looked up into Jim's chocolate eyes.
"It's a surprise, but Seb tells me it's one you've been to before and enjoyed." Jim smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Relax and enjoy the night. It is going to be very special, I promise. You look amazing, love. I like that dress on you. The color really compliments your hair and skin color."
Heather smiled. "Thank you. It's Vivienne Westwood. She's a really great designer. I picked it up a few months ago when I was in New York for a medical conference. It was kind of a silly purchase. I didn't have anywhere to wear it, but it called out to me and I couldn't resist. Clothes are a weakness I'm afraid. I'm normally a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, but sometimes I love nothing more than to dress up and look super girly. At work, I typically just wear scrubs because I never know when I'll get called into surgery, but occasionally, a girl just likes to get dolled up."
"I love Westwood. She's a weakness for me. She's lovely. She does most of my suits for me. I'll introduce you two sometime. I think you would like her."
Heather pulled back and just gaped at Jim. "You KNOW Vivienne Westwood? Personally!? Like you've talked to her face to face? Seriously? Oh, my God, Jim! That is amazing. What is she like?"
Jim chuckled. "Yeah, I've been to her house and she's been to my flat. Several times. I go to her Christmas party every year. Like I said, she's lovely. Very nice. Funny. Obviously, very creative. She's pretty down to earth actually. She likes to garden. She is a terrible cook, though. Poor thing barely knows how to boil water." Jim wrinkled his nose at the memory of the blueberry pie Viv had made one time. She had somehow bungled up the recipe and it was, by far, the worst thing he had ever eaten.
Heather tucked back into Jim's arms and marveled at the life he had. She couldn't help but feel a bit small in comparison to his accomplishments.
After a few minutes, Jim rubbed her arm. "Penny for your thoughts, love? You're being awfully quiet. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little … I don't know … overwhelmed at all of this. Everything is happening so fast and I'm just trying to adjust. Don't worry. I'm happy. I am. Just a lot has happened in the past 48 hours. I'm dating a powerful, hot, smart, amazing man and tomorrow he'll be gone suddenly, and I'll be alone and I'm feeling a lot of stuff about that. I'm interviewing for a new job far away from everything I know in a couple weeks. A job that if I take it, I'll be able to see said awesome boyfriend a lot more often, but have to abandon everything I've built here. My plans to have a relaxing, fun few days with my best friend have been replaced by a whirlwind romance and … and … and being swept off my feet. This is … all very … daunting, I guess. I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so in my head right now. I know I should just breathe and enjoy the moment, but I just can't. It's so …" Heather trailed off.
"Hey, hey there. Relax. Take a breath, Kitten. It's been a little crazy for me too. Let's do this. Let's just focus on having a delicious meal at a great restaurant and then we'll go from there. Right now, let's just enjoy the drive to the restaurant and each other. Okay? The future will still be there later. Let's enjoy the moment. Would it help if I told you where we are going?"
Heather smiled shyly. "No. You're right. Let's just enjoy this moment. I want to be surprised. I trust you. Surprise me." She exhaled a big breath and nuzzled in closer to Jim's chest. She felt so safe and secure in Jim's arms. Life still existed, but being in his arms made Heather feel like nothing bad could ever happen as long as she had her Jim. In the ridiculously short time they had been together, Jim had completely stolen Heather's heart and she couldn't be happier. It was the unbelievable love you only read about in fairy tales.
As Jim held his girl, he felt a swell of emotions. He thought his heart would burst with the love he felt towards her. No one, not even his own family, ever got this close to him. He knew that his number one job in life was now to protect Heather for everything. She was his! His everything. Nothing and no one mattered nearly as much as her. "I would do anything, ANYTHING, for her," he thought to himself.
The remainder of the drive passed in silence. The car pulled up in front of the restaurant and stopped. "We're here, my dear," announced Jim.
"Morston's! Jim, I love this place. But, how did you get reservations? They are always booked for months in advance."
"Oh, honey, I have my ways. I'm glad you are pleased with my choice. Let's head in." Jim exited the limo and assisted Heather out. They entered the restaurant and Jim gave the hostess his name. She escorted them to a secluded table by a window overlooking the bay. Jim held a chair out for Heather and pushed her chair up to the table. He sat down opposite her and informed the hostess of his desire for the best wine the restaurant had to offer. She nodded her head and left the table.
"Jim, this is wonderful. Thank you." Heather smiled warmly at the raven-haired man across from her. The manager came to the table. "Mr. Moriarty, it is a pleasure to see you, sir. My name is Maurice. I am the manager. If there is anything I or my staff can do to make your evening more pleasurable, please don't hesitate to let me know," he simpered.
"Thank you, Maurice. I certainly will let you know if we need anything, but for now, you may go and check to see where our wine is."
"Of course, sir." The man backed away from the table and hurried off.
They both picked up their menus and quietly reviewed them. "Is there anything you would recommend," asked Jim.
"Well, what are you in the mood for? They have excellent prime rib. I've never had it, myself, but I've heard good things about it. I'm not a fan of prime rib. I think it is too fatty of a cut. I enjoy their crab cakes. I also like their salmon Florentine. I think I'm going to get the seafood alfredo though tonight."
"The crab cakes sound good. And I see they come with the asparagus risotto. I think I'll go with that."
"Sounds good, except for the asparagus. I've never been a fan of it. Kate loves it, though. She's tried to make it several ways for me, but it's still a no go for me. Kind of like brussel sprouts. People insist that if they are made right, they are delicious, but every time I've had them, they are repulsive. I suffered through them as a kid and promised myself I would never eat them as an adult. My dad loves them, and we would have them all the time." Heather wrinkled her nose at the memory of the pale green balls of overcooked bitterness.
"I completely agree with the brussel sprouts. They are horrible. Sebastian loves them, but he's not allowed to make them at my place."
"Yeah, Bash has tried a million times to make them for me, but I strictly forbid them in my house. They are on the same list as coconut and pineapple. Absolute no-gos."
"You don't like pineapple? I love it."
"Oh, I'm allergic. Coconut too. It causes me to go into anaphylactic shock. Even just a tiny bit. I don't even allow it in my house, just to be safe."
"Oh, I'll keep that in mind. No pineapple and coconut. So, I guess I'll have to cancel Pina Colada Tuesdays then."
"What!? Is that followed by Alcoholics Anonymous Wednesdays? I might have to come work for you then. Your office sounds fun."
The waiter approached and poured the wine. Jim drank a sample and nodded his approval. The waiter poured glasses for both of the guests and set the bottle on the table. "Welcome to Morston's. Are you ready to order?"
Heather and Jim placed their orders and the waiter left. "Would you like to come work for me? I'm sure I could find a position for you. What would you want to do? We don't really need a surgeon full time."
"Oh, honey. I was kidding. I don't think I could give up being a doctor. I love it too much and I'm good at it."
"What would you do if you couldn't be a doctor," asked Jim.
Heather thought for a minute. "I guess if I couldn't operate, I would continue teaching. That's a big part of my work and I do enjoy it most of the time. If I had never become a doctor, I don't know what I would be doing. I've wanted to be a doctor my entire life and never thought about being anything else. I guess it just never occurred to me that I could be anything else. What about you? If you weren't a whatever you are, what would you be doing?"
"I like to think of myself as a businessman first of all, but to answer your question, I would be an artist. A painter in particular. No one knows about it, but I used to paint. I haven't done that in a very long time."
"Why not? You enjoyed painting, right? So why did you stop? I would love to see some of your work. I bet it's really good. I do ceramics periodically. I like the artistic outlet sometimes. To be able to create something with my hands."
"I guess I could start painting again. I stopped because it didn't seem very manly. I guess building a business got in the way too. I had to make certain sacrifices to get where I am today, and my painting was one. I never really thought of restarting it. I guess I could. Would you model for me? I could paint you."
Heather blushed. "I'm sure you could find a better model than me. I've never modeled. I don't think I would do a very good job."
"No, I'm sure you would do great. You wouldn't have to do anything special. Just sit still for a little while."
"Well, I don't know. Maybe." Heather shook her head and looked out the window, embarrassed. "Tell me about your brother. Is he older? Younger? What's his name?"
"Beau and I are twins. He's older by 2 minutes. He used to work for me, but after he met his husband, he semi-retired from the firm and now is a stay at home dad and husband. He still helps out with the rare assignment here and there, but nothing that would interfere with parenthood. He's a great dad to my step-niece and nephew. We're pretty tight because of our childhood. He and his husband live just outside of London. I know you have two older sisters. Tell me about them."
"Catherine is 7 years older than me. She's married and has two boys. I don't really understand what she does for a living. It's something to do with college financial aid for the state. Something where she sits at a desk all day and does paperwork stuff. It sounds like hell to me. I need to constantly be moving and doing 80 different things at once, but I know she loves it, so hey, more power to her on that one. My other sister, Elizabeth, who I call Satan, because she's the embodiment of the demonic dark lord himself, is an OB nurse and is 4 years older than me. She's on her fourth marriage because she learned how to be in a healthy honest relationship from our dad, so she's got that going for her. She has my one niece and my other nephew. Miraculously, they have the same father, her first husband, who is a saint and still a friend of mine. I actually like him significantly more than my sister. I like all of her husbands more than her. Of course, I like cleaning the cats' litter boxes more than I like my sister. My parents are divorced, thankfully. My mom is remarried, and my dad is going through a string of revolving girlfriends who are now trending towards half my age. That's just creepy. Thanks for asking. Also, they are all dumber than a box of hammers. I think if you combined all of the IQs of the last 10, it might get you into the low double digits. I know full on well what he's getting out of those relationships and it's not scintillating conversation. I've stopped bothering to learn their names. I just assign them a number. It's easier that way. I also just call them all 'Tits McGee.' Like Tits McGee #1, Tits McGee #2, etc. Yes, to their faces and my dad's. It kind of annoys him, but deep down, he knows that I'm right. These are not long-term prospects." Heather smiled and took a sip of her wine. "This wine is wonderful. Excellent choice, dear. You said your brother is married. What does his husband do?"
"Davin is a chef and owns a restaurant. Beau and I went there when it first opened and that's where they met. Beau particularly enjoyed his meal, so he asked to speak to the chef. Their relationship kind of blossomed from a friendship to a romantic one and they got married two years ago. Davin had a daughter from his first marriage and they used a surrogate for my nephew. Davin's first wife left him for her best friend. Turns out she's a lesbian and Dav's gay, so it sort of worked out well for everyone."
"How old is your niece?"
"Caitlin is 8. Fionn is 6 months old. Biologically, he's Beau's." Jim looked up and noticed the waiter approaching. "Looks like our food is here."
The waiter set the plates on the table before the duo and asked if he could provide them with anything else. Both answered in the negative and began eating. Jim studied Heather as they ate. Finally, Heather put her fork down. "Jim, you've been watching me this entire time. What is up? I'm getting a little paranoid now." She smiled a nervous smile. Jim smiled back. "Just can't believe this is all real. You and me together. I just never imagined it all."
Heather nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Me, either. But you have to stop staring at me. How are your crab cakes?"
"They're good. Your alfredo smells terrific."
"Do you want a bite? It's so good. I didn't think about it, but I'm going to have garlic breath after this. I'm sorry. I probably should have ordered something else."
"Don't worry. I'm sure your breath will be fine. Plus, I have gum if you need it. I never leave the house without it."
The waiter ensured that the wine did not run out of the course of dinner. The service was prompt, but not sycophantic. The remainder of the meal was a leisurely, romantic exchange of information between the two. After Jim paid the bill, they left the restaurant and entered the limo.
"What would you like to do now, my dear? The night is still young," asked Jim. "Sebastian said that you like to dance. Are there any good clubs around here? Or did you have something else in mind? It's your city. Tell me what's good around here."
"Well, there is this one little jazz club not too far from here. Blue Tiffany's. Do you like jazz?"
"I do like jazz. That sounds great." Jim directed the driver to drive them to the jazz club. Heather kissed Jim's lips and trailed her fingertips up and down his thigh. Jim unfastened Heather's seat belt and pulled her on top of him. He began running his hands through her hair and distributing kisses up and down her neck and upper chest. Heather reached down and held Jim's face in her hands, kissing him deeply. Jim's hands began searching Heather's body for her most tender spots.
The driver's voice interrupted them. "Sir, madam, we have arrived at Blue Tiffany's."
Jim's eyes turned jet black for a moment and he said icily, "Thank you. We'll be right there." He stifled a groan. "Kitten, we will definitely be picking this thread up later, but now let's go listen to some jazz."
Heather clenched her fists and sighed. "Do we really have to? I kind of like the music we were making here."
"I know. But I promise, this is not over by far." Heather slipped off Jim's lap and pulled herself together. The driver opened the car door and Jim exited, followed by Heather. They entered the club and found a table near the stage. Jim rearranged the chairs so that they were sitting side by side as opposed to across from each other. They sat down, and Jim wrapped his arm around Heather. He noticed that her skin felt a little cold. "Are you okay, love? You feel a little chilly."
"It is a little cold in here. And this dress isn't the warmest thing I own. But I'll be okay."
Jim slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around Heather's shoulders. "Here my sweet. I can't have you catch your death just to listen to some music. Do you need anything else?"
Heather smiled. "No, baby. I'm good now. Thank you." Heather snuggled against her paramour and took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating mixture of his cologne and pheromones. She felt a wonderful flutter in her stomach at the aroma and her smile deepened. She felt safe and warm and like the world was exactly right. She moaned softly with happiness. She rested her head on Jim's shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to capture this moment in her memory in perfect detail forever.
Jim wrapped his arm back around her and pulled her tight to him again. He smelled the light scent of strawberries in her hair, combined with her perfume. "Oh, Chanel #5. My kitten has classic taste," he thought to himself. The club manager came on stage after a few minutes to introduce that evening's entertainment.
"Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us tonight at Blue Tiffany's. Baltimore's premier jazz club. Tonight, we have a real treat for you all. Our group tonight is fresh off their international tour. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Tommy Patrino and the Blue Notes." Polite applause followed as the group started their first song. The opening notes to "Fly Me to The Moon" were heard as Heather turned to Jim and said, "I love this song. It's one of my favorites."
Jim noticed that a few other couples were getting up and starting to dance. He stuck his hand out to Heather and asked, "May I have this dance, my lady?"
Heather giggled and stood up. "As you wish, sir."
They walked out to the center of the dance floor and joined the other couples. It was obvious that both were skilled dancers and they attracted the attention of quite a few of the audience. Neither of them noticed this of course. They were too busy wrapped up in their own two-person world. The song ended, and they embraced and kissed elegantly. The next song was a slower song and Jim wrapped his arms around Heather, as she rested her head on his right shoulder. They swayed together, lost in the love they had for each other. They danced several more songs before Heather suggested they stop to get something to drink.
Jim walked Heather back to their table and then he proceeded to the bar. He ordered a vodka and tonic for himself and a fuzzy navel for Heather. He paid for the drinks and started to walk back to the table with them. He noticed that there was a short, fat, blonde man sitting at the table with Heather. She looked annoyed, but he looked oblivious to her disdain. When he was about 10 feet away from the table, he saw the interloper put his hand on Heather's shoulder. Before he could take another step, Heather had grabbed the man's hand and bent it so far back that the top of his hand touched the top of his forearm. She shouted, "I SAID NO!" The man cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Heather stood up and looked around for Jim. She saw him and rushed over to him.
"Jim, I'm sorry. But that man wouldn't leave me alone. He came up right after you left and kept hitting on me. I was polite at first and told him I was here with someone, but he kept insisting. I got really rude and told him to get away, but then he tried to pull my dress strap down and I snapped. I don't like people touching me without my permission. I got really scared." She started to cry. The club manager and a two security guards came up at that moment. Jim put the drinks down on a nearby table and wrapped Heather in his arms. "It's okay, baby. I'm here. I'm sorry I left you. Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you anywhere else? I have you now. No one's going to touch you ever again. You're safe now. Jim's here. I have you."
The club manager spoke up, "Sir, ma'am, could you please come with us now? We have some questions for you right now."
Jim's eyes turned jet black and he hissed, "My girlfriend has just been attacked and you have QUESTIONS for us? Where was your security team? How could you allow this to happen? This is unacceptable!"
The club manager looked terrified. "Sir, please come to my office. We have several witnesses to the event and we are getting statements from everyone. Miss, are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?"
Heather shook her head. Jim and Heather followed the manager back to his office.
Once everyone was seated, the manager asked Heather what had happened. She told him the story through tears. Jim sat beside her, holding her in his arms. His eyes remained coal black and shot daggers at everyone who dared meet his gaze. He had already formulated a plan to handle this in his way and was waiting for Heather to finish her statement so he could start activating his men. "There will be literal hell to pay for all of this," he thought to himself.
Heather finished her version of events. The club manager looked at the one security guard and he nodded. "Yes, sir, that is exactly what I saw. Like I said, I was initially about 15 feet away when I noticed the perpetrator approach Dr. Weire. I had a bad feeling about him so I got closer, probably 5 feet away, and heard the entire conversation. I was about to step in when Dr. Weire defended herself. Ma'am, are you sure you are okay? I can imagine that this was a very upsetting event for you and you may want to talk to someone."
Heather shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I'm a little shaken up. I assume the police have been called. I'm guessing that I will have to talk to them. I'll want to call my lawyer first."
"Yes, the police were called by the man who was injured. They are in the other room interviewing him. I'll go check to see if they want to talk to you now. Please wait here."
The club manager left the room. The bouncer said, "Ma'am, I can't speak officially for the club, but for me personally, I support what you did. I'll back you up. I saw the whole thing. He was completely unjustified. I have a little girl and while I hope she never has to deal with that kind of thing, but if she did, I would hope that I've raised her right to protect herself like that. I'm sorry that I didn't step in sooner."
Heather thanked him for his kind words and support. She was rather nervous about the legal trouble she might face. She had certainly broken at least 1 or 2 bones in the man's wrist and/or arm. It was going to be a complicated surgery and extended recovery. It was very possible that he had permanent nerve damage. She wondered if she had overreacted. Maybe she should have just kept saying no politely and hoping that he got the clue. Maybe she should have just waited until Jim got back and let him handle it. Then she chastised herself for trying to talk herself into being a damsel in distress. She was a strong, independent woman and didn't need Jim or any man to fight her battles for her. That man HAD crossed a major boundary. Several boundaries. She said no, several times. Even one "no" should have been enough. Then he put his hands on her. No, he deserved that response. Just because she was dressed attractively didn't mean that anyone had the right to expect anything from her. Her body, her choice, right?
The club manager came back in with a police detective in tow. He introduced the detective to the inhabitants of the room. The detective sat down and took everyone's statements and asked some additional questions. After about an hour, the detective said, "Well, Dr. Weire, we still have to finish this investigation, but it seems pretty cut and dry to me. It sounds like the assailant brought this on himself. I can't promise you anything of course, but I seriously doubt that you will face any sort of charges for your actions tonight. Looks like a pretty clear-cut case of self-defense. Here is my card if you think of anything else you need to tell me. I'll be in touch within a few days to let you know where this is headed. Do you have any questions?
"No, sir. Thank you. I look forward to hearing from you soon." Heather's voice trembled a little.
The detective left the room. Jim spoke up, "Heather, I need to go visit the restroom. I'll be back in a couple minutes. Will you be okay if I leave you here?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah, go ahead, honey. I can stay here for few minutes, right?" She looked at the club manager, who nodded. "Then I think I want to go home. I'm feeling kind of tired now."
"No problem, love. Like I said, I'll just be a few minutes. I'll be right back." Jim gave Heather a long, tight hug and a quick kiss. He rubbed her back for a few seconds and then left the room. Once out I the hallway, he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. He hit a few buttons and said, "Vacation is over. We have work to do."
