--Chapter Eight--
.:Kelly's, Front courtyard:.
Elizabeth Drake's flip-flops smacked across the cobbled walkway leading up to Kelly's as she absently picked dried crusts of paint off of her white tank top that doubled as her smock. She had thrown a summer dress on over it to hide the spots and streaks when she went out for a bite, and then had hastily added some jeans to the ensemble because she had nicked herself a couple times while shaving that morning. Using a sharp blade to remove small hairs off one's leg while trying to kill a spider in the shower at the same time was not a good idea.
"On top of Old Smokey, all covered with cheese…" Another small streak of Metallic Burgundy was located, peeled off the stain-resistant cotton, and tossed away. "…I lost my soy meatball when somebody sneezed."
It was the third Friday of the month, which meant that it was time for their family's traditional dinner at Kelly's. Bobbie would close up the joint and she, Carly, Elizabeth and Noah would all show up and cook dinner together. It would usually be Carly and Bobbie doing the cooking since Elizabeth and Noah were utterly helpless in that area and pretty much lived on take-out for about thirteen years between her mother's death and the day that Noah married Bobbie.
Instead, Elizabeth and Noah would perch themselves on the counter and snack on the ingredients to Carly's main entrée until she exploded and shooed them into the main room to set up the silverware. Once dinner was ready, they'd all sit around one of the little tables and talk about their week, any upcoming plans, their pet projects, work, and of course, men. Both Bobbie and Noah were very much interested in seeing their full-grown daughters settle down, or at least find a nice man to spend time with.
Carly had planned on making spaghetti tonight, and Elizabeth's stomach had been rumbling since two hours after lunch. Bobbie would be bringing fresh vegetables from her little garden behind the Brownstone and she was sure that she and her dad would pack a significant portion of them away before Carly even got around to fixing the salad.
She kicked away a stone that had lodged itself between her toes and continued up the walkway, hunting in her purse for her hand sanitizer. She had spent all afternoon at Jake's, tucked away in the little room that she had forced to be her art studio. Inspiration had hit and she managed to get halfway through a painting before a break was in order. If her streak kept up, she might well be able to finish it before tomorrow, and then her stepmother would have something new to hang above the mantle at the Brownstone.
Elizabeth didn't hear the other set of footsteps coming up the other walkway as she stopped in front of Kelly's, puzzled when she found the windows dark and the Closed sign up. She tested the knob and found it locked, and was just about to pull out her cell phone when Jason Morgan appeared next to her.
"Hey," he muttered, peering in through the windows at the normally bustling little diner. He was dressed in his normal suit, leading her to conclude that he had just come from something work-related. "Kelly's closed tonight?"
"I guess so," Elizabeth shrugged, seeing a note tucked into the wooden windowpane. "I'm as surprised as you are."
Jason watched as she pulled the paper out from the windowpane and unfolded it, quickly skimming the scrawling feminine cursive. "What's it say?"
"It's a note from my stepmom," the brunette sighed, whacking the now folded square of paper against her palm as she frowned at the diner. "She said there was a bus accident and that she and my dad had to run back to General Hospital, and that dinner's off tonight."
Jason quirked a brow at her, not comprehending, and she hastened to explain. "See, it's the third Friday of the month, which means that me, Bobbie, Carly and my dad close up Kelly's and have a family dinner here. Kelly's has always been closed up on the evening of the third Friday of the month since, like, two and a half years ago. My dad and Bobbie must have gotten here before me and Carly and then had to run off and….yeah, they called me."
She chuckled to herself, seeing the six missed calls that her father had made during the seven-minute drive to the hospital. Carly, who actually kept her phone handy and not tucked away in an old sneaker at the bottom of her closet – which was a complete accident – had probably already gotten the message and known not to show up.
"Damn," she sighed, stomping her Indian-style bejeweled flip-flop. "And I was starving, too." It was too bad that the only thing waiting for her back home at Jake's was a moldy bagel and a six-pack of Fresca. Ironically enough, the Fresca disgusted her more than the rotten bread.
Jason scratched his head, glancing at the quiet diner one last time before turning to her. "You know, we could always go grab a bite to eat somewhere else."
She looked back at him carefully, raising one carefully plucked eyebrow. "We?"
He shrugged in an attempt to appear casual. "Sure. We both came here tonight expecting some food, so neither of us has eaten yet. You wanna go? It's on me."
"That's so not the point," she argued, finding the idea not as outlandish as she might have thought previously. "And yes. But no place too fancy, Jason – I'm dressed like that crazy bag lady on the corner of Birch who throws popcorn at people while reciting the Rubaiyat."
Jason chuckled, backing up a step as he ushered her down the walkway where his car was parked. "You look fine."
And it was the truth. He was used to the slightly mismatched outfits she appeared to throw together on a whim, but he really did think Elizabeth looked nice tonight. She was wearing a pair of pencil thin blue jeans with jeweled flip-flops, and had thrown a light, breezy summer dress on over a white camisole. Her hair was down and wavy, pinned up at the sides with blue bobby pins, and she wore a maroon leather cuff bracelet around her right wrist. He certainly wasn't complaining about the view.
"Is this it?" she asked, oblivious of his appreciative scrutiny as she pointed to a black Mercedes. He nodded, unlocking the doors with his automated key and moving around to the passenger side to open hers for her.
"Do you want me to take off my shoes?" Elizabeth asked, already poised to slip her sandals off. "I stepped in a puddle of beer three times before I left Jake's…it was the same puddle, too. I can take them off if you don't want me to ruin your car – no biggie."
He shook his head, motioning for her to get in. "I don't care – it's fine, don't worry about it."
She looked surprised but slid down onto the gray leather and waited patiently as Jason walked around to the other side. One of her past boyfriends back in Philly forced her to take off her shoes every time she got into his car – and he drove a damn Yugo. And yet Jason Morgan, whose car cost as much as her remaining mortgage payment on Jake's, didn't worry himself about that a bit.
"So…where are we going?"
Jason was smirking as he slipped an arm behind her seat and looked over his shoulder, reversing out of the space. "Where do you want to go?"
Elizabeth tapped her chin, thinking, then turned to look up at him as he turned out onto the main street. "I don't know – surprise me! I like surprises."
He glanced sideways at her but said nothing as the petite brunette crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knees, humming along to some song stuck in her head. When the impromptu music stopped abruptly a few seconds later, he glanced over at her once more.
"You okay?"
"Fiddlesticks," she muttered, using one of her father's favorite obscenity euphemisms. "Did you see this huge white streak on my jeans? Damn it! These were new, too! Now they'll have to be smock-jeans."
"I didn't notice it," Jason replied honestly, trying to remember the way to an old restaurant that he used to love. "It won't come off?"
"No," she sighed, scrubbing at the streak with her fingernails. "It's a different kind of paint. Damn, damn, damn."
"What were you doing – redecorating Jake's?"
"Nope. I was painting something for my stepmother. Shoot. Well, I can't be seen in these – I'll have to take them off."
"Um, we're almost there," he replied, glancing nervously at her as the restaurant came into view.
"Don't worry," she assured him, reaching discreetly under the hem of her dress to undo the button. "Keep driving. I just need a sec."
Sure enough, in a few seconds' time Elizabeth Drake had managed to partially undress herself in the passenger seat of his car. Jason kept both eyes firmly on the road, not trusting himself, as she primly folded her stained jeans and held them on her lap.
"You can leave those in the back, if you want," he told her, spotting a parking space and instantly seizing it. "Just pick them up after. It's up to you."
"Yeah, there's no way they'll fit in my tote," she agreed, throwing the jeans into the backseat of the sports car and reaching for her parrot-covered canvas tote bag. "I know I've seen this place before but I can't remember it to save my life – so let's see what you picked."
Jason chuckled and got out of the car, about to make his way over to her side when he saw her standing on the pavement and looking around for a sign. "Come on, let's go," he suggested, pointing out the side entrance.
She smiled back and followed him to the door, quickly stepping inside when he held it open for her. Jason led the way to the main lobby and Elizabeth was suddenly glad that she had decided to ditch her jeans. The rest of the patrons having drinks at the bar while they waited for a table appeared to be dressed in relatively nicer clothes, and she would have stuck out like a sore thumb otherwise.
"Tell Felicia to take a look at it," the proprietor could be heard saying as he walked backward toward the reception desk, still talking to his floor manager. "Yeah, she's the only one that can get the damn cappuccino machine to work, anyway. Okay, folks, what can I do for you?"
Jason tipped his head at the owner. "Mac. How's it looking tonight?"
"The place is packed," Malcolm Scorpio replied, gesturing to the massive main room of the Outback Steakhouse that he ran with his wife. "Table for two?"
He flipped to his chart when Jason nodded, already knowing that he wanted one in the Non-Smoking section. "Alright, you're in luck because I have one ready right now."
The restaurateur's dark chestnut eyes twinkled when they landed on the slightly uncomfortable brunette half-hidden behind Jason's imposing form. "Elizabeth – Elizabeth Drake. I didn't think we'd ever get you in here."
"Hi, Mac," she grinned sheepishly, tucking back a loose lock of her hair. "How're the girls?"
"Georgie and Maxie are great," he replied, motioning for them to follow him. "Maxie loves Florida and says that she can see the beach from her dorm, and Georgie's got valedictorian in the bag."
"That's great," Elizabeth called up to him as the man briskly led the way to their table. "I'm so happy for her. Tell her that she needs to stop by Jake's more often; I don't even get to see her anymore."
"Will do," the proud father smiled back happily, motioning for them to sit at the newly bussed table he had provided. "I'll send a guy over with the menus – you kids take your time, have fun, and enjoy your meal. I'll see if we can make any special arrangements for you, Elizabeth."
Jason watched curiously as the brunette blushed and attempted to wave away the remark. "Oh, don't bother, Mac – not on my account. I'm fine."
"Okay," the man pretended to sigh, tossing her a wink, "I'll try not to drag a stuck pig out and traumatize you – nothing like that, I promise."
Elizabeth grimaced but managed to hide it. "That's all I ask, Mac."
The Australian grinned and chucked her chin before turning around and heading back to his wife and that possessed cappuccino machine. A waiter arrived a moment later with menus and then disappeared for another ten minutes. When he appeared once more, Jason was more than ready to order.
He grimaced when his stomach grumbled and handed the two menus to the boy. "Elizabeth?"
"Go ahead," she assured him, nibbling her lip. "I still…need a minute."
"Number seven and a beer – bottle's fine," Jason directed, watching suspiciously as the boy took his time writing it down.
"And you, Ma'am?"
If the term of address displeased her, Elizabeth didn't show it. "I…I think I'll have a garden salad with Italian dressing – is that possible?"
"Um, if by garden salad you mean a few leaves of lettuce with a sliced tomato, half a cucumber and a wilting onion, then, yeah," their server shrugged. "Otherwise…not so much."
"That's fine," the brunette assured him. "And some water would be great – thanks."
"I'll be back with your orders momentarily," the boy recited, turning on his heel and retreating toward the back.
Elizabeth cleared her throat and fidgeted in her seat before she saw her napkin. Pulling the worthy distraction out from under the silverware, she played with the edges as Jason leaned back in his seat.
He watched her uneasily, wondering what her sudden shift in demeanor was all about. At Kelly's, she had proclaimed that she was starving and yet when they actually ordered, she wanted a few leaves of lettuce and some water. If he had known she was one of those girls – the kinds on a Gwenyth-Paltrow-macrobiotic-diet – he would have ordered a salad with her, dropped her off at Jake's post haste, and then gotten himself some real food.
He had dated women in the past like that, women that were so obsessed with appearing ladylike and being so skinny that they disappeared when they turned sideways, and he had never once figured Elizabeth to be one of them. She seemed healthy enough, active enough, self-confident enough. And with a body like hers, there was no way that she needed to eat nothing but plankton. If anything, a little meat would do her good.
Jason let out a sigh and leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table as he watched her fold her napkin into a swan. "You okay?"
She looked up, surprised. "Yeah, sure – what gives?"
"I don't know," he replied, tugging on his earlobe. "You said you were starving but…look, if you want to go somewhere else, just say the word."
Elizabeth fidgeted uneasily but shook her head. "No, no – you wanted to come here, and I told you to surprise me. The Outback is a great place, and I adore Mac and his family. This is just fine, Jason, really."
He didn't question her further but chose instead to let it go. They filled up the next fifteen minutes with idle chatter: Carly, ELQ, Jake's, her art – all of those subjects were covered. Both Jason and Elizabeth looked up, relieved, when their half-stoned server finally returned with their food and botched it all up by putting Jason's steak in front of Elizabeth and her pitiful salad in front of the ravenous businessman.
Jason watched as the brunette graciously ushered the boy away and switched the plates, holding his right by the edge and quickly wiping the grease from her fingertips off on her napkin. Puzzled and slightly put off, Jason picked up his steak knife and fork and watched as Elizabeth began to pour her dressing onto her salad.
She was already devouring hers before he finished cutting his T-bone. She ate ravenously enough, but that still didn't make up for the fact that she was sitting at the best steak restaurant within a forty-mile radius and eating a damn salad.
Dinner conversation was pleasant enough. Elizabeth kept him mildly amused and overwhelmingly confused with various personal anecdotes: at long last, he finally learned the story behind the troublesome Richard Nixon chew toy and how it had saved Elizabeth from a junkyard Doberman Pinscher when the petite brunette had gone off in search of a new Mercedes metallic logo for her stepsister's car instead of letting the clueless blonde shell out big bucks to a dealer for a replacement.
In turn, Jason doled out a few obligatory stories about his previous life in Port Charles. He told her of his days roughhousing behind Luke's and the time he spent at Wyndemere with Nikolas and Stefan learning how to fence and ride. Elizabeth had listened eagerly and laughed at all the right moments, but there was still something off about the evening that Jason couldn't properly reconcile.
She was pleasant enough when he dropped her off at Jake's, and thanked him sincerely for dinner and the ride, but something was still off. Jason waited until she was safely inside the building and he saw a light on upstairs before turning out of the lot with a heavy sigh.
His first unofficial date with Elizabeth Drake had proved to be a total bust.