A/N: Hi kittens! Did you miss me? I won't say I'm a hundred percent back from hiatus. So this update may be it for a while, I haven't entirely decided yet. But thank you for the reviews for last chapter. This update doesn't touch on everything I wanted to include so there will be a part 2 and you'll see why. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.
April 3rd, 2014 2:14 am
The words were bleeding together on the page. No matter how many times he closed his eyes for a shred of relief, or pinched the bridge of his nose, or took a shot from the lukewarm cup of coffee it did nothing to relieve his tiredness, improve his focus, or make the tension headache go away.
Elijah sighed in defeat, flicked his pen on the mountain of paperwork that needed to be processed. He reclined in his seat, and stared up at the ceiling. He needed to change the lighting to something softer, more conducive to his late nights. This florescent shit was making his headache even worse.
His stomach rumbled and painfully reminded him he hadn't eaten anything since lunch. The main dining room had been reserved for the latest celebrity couple so Elijah had been at their total disposal for the four hours they dined and got plastered. If it weren't for the twenty percent gratuity that was tacked on to each bill he doubted they would have remembered to tip their servers. But they did and it made Vanessa and Anthony's night.
After that Elijah had to oversee the transition from supper to open mike night. A few local artists performed twenty minute sets which brought in a much younger crowd who preferred the beer on tap, and not the imported stuff that naturally sold at a higher price. In the end, it had been a lucrative night. A long night but a lucrative one nonetheless.
Rubbing his hands over his weary face, Elijah inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly. Off and on he thought about Rebekah, her "advice" and he especially thought about Bonnie. Although only a week had passed since the last time they saw each other, and they had certainly gone longer without speaking, he abhorred the fact that he well, he missed her.
Yeah, he was in trouble. And instead of avoiding trouble by pretending the problem didn't exist, Elijah seemed to concentrate a good percentage of his thoughts on the one person he was told to stay away from but also to look after.
And who was that guy that had been all over her at the club? Elijah had no clue but he had been blinded by Bonnie's smile the entire trip back to her townhome in Queens. She had remained tight-lipped even as Rebekah questioned her saying the man had been an old friend from college. Friend? Not lover? From the way they danced together it wouldn't have been a stretch to assume they had…
Elijah cancelled those thoughts.
His hand gripped the back of his neck and he squeezed his trapezius muscle. How he wished someone else was doing this so there'd actually be some improvement.
Elijah checked the time again and shook his head. He wanted to call Bonnie but it was far too late for that. But he wanted to call her and ask if she might want to join him for dinner. He had no qualms taking advice if it would actually benefit him and in one instance he was willing to listen to Rebekah. Elijah acknowledged he did need to take some time away from the restaurant. He wasn't yet ready to take a two-week vacation but a day off here and there never hurt anyone.
Fridays were some of the restaurant's busiest days and Elijah hated to be away, but he was willing to let go of the reins and leave the daily operations of Treme in his younger brother Kol's hands. Kol might say that working disagreed with him, but when he was given a task or occupation he didn't shuck off his responsibilities. Elijah knew Kol would crack a whip and keep his employees in line, and make sure everything went off without a hitch.
Decision made, Elijah would wait until a more decent hour before calling Bonnie and Kol to see if either of them might be amiable to his suggestions.
A soft knock sounded on his closed office door. "Come in!" Elijah bellowed and resumed trying to audit his paperwork so he could go home before the sun peaked over the horizon.
He wasn't looking up to see who it was naturally assuming it was one of his employees. A delicate chuckle made Elijah stiffen and when he finally glanced up his eyebrows shot to his hairline.
Hayley Sears stood on the opposite side of his desk wearing that notable and mischievous smirk which tempted him to ask her out on a date in the first place. Her sable hair fell down her shoulders in glossy waves, and her large, hazel eyes assessed him with mild curiosity and maybe even something akin to fondness. Her olive skin looked a little more flushed than what he was used to seeing but it only added to her attractiveness.
"Hayley," Elijah said at length and rose from his imposing desk chair, rounded said object and came to stand in front of her.
"Hello, Elijah. It's been a while."
"It has," Elijah hesitated wondering if it would be proper to hug her. They broke up on good terms, but just because something didn't end messily didn't mean it didn't hurt.
Hayley took the initiative, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Elijah. She rested her cheek against his chest.
Tentatively he drew his arms around her and pressed her just a little bit closer. She still felt the same and even smelled the same. Memories flooded inland and he could recount the times they kissed, laughed, hugged, quarreled, sat together in silence and listened to music, made love.
Elijah coughed as a distraction to keep his mind from tumbling down that particular rabbit hole.
They separated and held one another at arm's length. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you," Elijah tactfully added on.
"Oh, you know I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by. How've you been?"
Elijah nodded and took a seat on the edge of his desk. He indicated with his hand for Hayley to occupy the lone chair. "I've been all right for the most part. Working. Can I get you anything to drink?"
"No, I'm fine," Hayley crossed her legs momentarily drawing Elijah's attention to her bare limbs. It was freezing outside but it didn't seem to deter Hayley from wearing a short dress and ankle boots. "So working, that's all you've been up to lately? I saw Rebekah a couple of days ago and she seemed a bit worried about you. For some reason she thought I might be able to talk to you."
Upon hearing that Elijah's good mood crashed and burned. Leave it up to his meddling sister to try to work her match making skills. Now that she was happily married Rebekah had now turned to dragging the rest of her siblings to the altar.
"There's nothing to talk about, Hayley. I'm fine. Just swamped with work. It comes with the territory in running any business."
"I know," Hayley held up her hands and that's when Elijah noticed it. A ring. On her left hand.
"You're engaged?" Elijah snapped his gaze away from the platinum band to stare at Hayley.
She nodded slowly in the affirmative. "I was wearing gloves when I ran into Rebekah. I guess she assumed I was still single. I was in the neighborhood and honestly wanted to see how you've been doing. We used to have really good talks and a lot of fun. No bad blood between us. And I'm not expecting you to bear your soul…"
"I'm fine," Elijah interrupted and stood up from the edge of the desk and sat back down in his chair. "Your concern…although appreciated is not needed. So when is your big day?"
Hayley heard the edge of his voice and chose to ignore it. "Next summer. Jackson…my fiancé he proposed on New Year's Eve."
"Congratulations," Elijah deadpanned. "I'm happy you were able to find love after all."
An awkward silence passed between the former lovers. Hayley knew how to read signals and could tell that Elijah had lost all interest in catching up and now wanted to be alone. His mood swings made it hard for her sometimes to just relax and be with him. Some days Elijah could be uncharacteristically open and other days he kept quiet and his thoughts guarded and to himself. Cracking him required more tools than she carried in her arsenal and Hayley always saw herself more of a free spirit. Floating through life and only setting down roots periodically. Elijah needed security and stability. He needed someone who knew about philosophy, the great composers of the past, a thinker, a brooder like him.
They split because they were just too opposite and wanted different things in life.
She rose from the chair. "It's late and I should go. It was nice seeing you, Elijah."
"Yes," he got to his feet. "Again congratulations on your engagement."
Hayley compressed her lips together in that smile that used to make his dick hard. "I'll see you around," she paused at the door. "I hope one day you can be as happy as I am, Elijah."
He offered her a lopsided smirk and stuffed a hand in his pocket. Elijah had hopes for the same thing.
Right before Elijah was about to retake his seat, a cold chill ran across his back. He stilled and wondered where that draft could have come from.
Standing in a corner unseen, eyes glittering as dark as his, a man shook his head. "You fool. You never should have let that one get away."
Columbia University Medical Center
April 4th, 2014 9:45 am
Stefan Salvatore twirled a red lollipop around his tongue. A sweet treat he swiped from the children's unit when he went to go check on an intern he had a balls swelling night of playing Grey's Anatomy with.
He stood in a glassed-in crosswalk that offered a view of the parking lot as he waited for Damon's doctor appointment to draw to a close. His older brother hadn't been scheduled for an exam, but made an appointment anyways because he had a concern.
The concern made Stefan's lip tug upward. Damon could be such a pussy at times, but he could understand his brother's fear. After all, the man was going out on a date with a woman he admitted he kind of fell for back at Brown but the timing hadn't been right.
Honestly, Stefan couldn't remember a time he had seen Damon so hard up and over a woman at that. There had never been any shortage of paramours going around. Both Salvatore brothers had been blessed in all departments that mattered from looks, to smarts, even in penis girth and length. They were catches. Why lie?
So this woman, whoever she was had Damon very worked up. So worked up he was afraid that his excitement might trigger a heart attack or cause his body to reject his donated organ.
These were delicate times and though Damon was grudgingly following all of his doctor's orders even abstaining from alcohol, nothing was a hundred percent guaranteed. With the stress of the divorce doing its bit in keeping Damon up at nights after putting in a few hours at the office, Stefan could do little outside of lend his moral support and keep Damon's empire running.
Inside the examination room, Dr. Corbin Alexander had checked, double checked, and tripled checked Damon's charts. Ran an electrocardiogram, put Damon through an exercise stress test, now the physician was about to explain the purpose of a Holter monitor, but he had to get a few things squared away with his patient first.
Damon sat and twiddled his thumbs. His heart was doing a wonderful rendition of the samba in his chest as he awaited Dr. Alexander's analysis.
His date with Bonnie was tonight and he was excited but also petrified. Damon could so easily write off his fear as first date jitters, but when he nearly blanked out last night while making dinner reservations he called up his doctor and made an appointment.
Dr. Alexander took a seat on the rolling chair and scrolled through Damon's file on his tablet. Clicking something here, pressing a button there, making a note here.
"So how is everything?" Damon broke the silence because he couldn't take it anymore.
Dr. Alexander removed his glasses and offered the slightly younger man a smile. "Everything is fine, Damon. Your EKG was very good. Stress test was normal. Your magnesium and phosphors levels are a little low but nothing to be too concerned about yet. You're still taking your supplements everyday?"
Damon nodded. "Never miss an opportunity to pop a pill."
"You felt a little faint the other night?" Dr. Corbin sat the tablet aside, reached for his stethoscope to listen to his patient's heart. "What were you doing?"
"I was making dinner reservations. The world went dark for a second and then there were black and white dots floating in my eyes."
"Have you been adhering to the diet your nutritionist prescribed?" Dr. Alexander moved the diaphragm of the stethoscope a little below Damon's clavicle.
Again, Damon nodded. He was skirting around the issue at large because frankly he was a little embarrassed to have to talk about this with his doctor. Already Damon had chickened out twice in bringing it up and it wouldn't be long before Dr. Alexander's probing questions irked him. He couldn't have felt more like his twelve year old self getting a lecture about erections and nocturnal emissions.
Forging ahead, Damon decided to just get it over with. They were men and he was assured Dr. Alexander had been asked plenty of blush inducing questions about sex.
"You see, Doc," Damon began, "I have this date tonight with this really beautiful woman and it's been awhile since I've…"
"Had sex," the doctor graciously filled in.
"Right. I was wondering if its…safe. Not that I think I'm going to get lucky tonight because that's not why I asked her out. I really like her. I mean, I wouldn't mind, but if things were to go down that road…I want to make sure my ticker," and he lightly pounded his chest, "doesn't stop ticking."
Corbin sat his stethoscope aside and picked up his tablet. He did his best to keep the smile off his face because he knew how difficult it was for someone like Damon Salvatore to basically have to ask for permission to have sex.
However, Dr. Alexander was aware that Damon was going through a divorce but as far as he knew it hadn't been finalized. As a doctor he wanted to caution the man not to entangle himself with another woman when he hadn't finished freeing himself from the former. But as a man, Corbin felt it wasn't exactly his place to comment. Damon's health was his number one concern and priority. If his budding romance began to have adverse effects on his patient's health then he would step in. So far right now there weren't any red flags.
Corbin took off his glasses before answering his patient's question. "We've talked in the past about good and bad stress. The heart is an amazing muscle; however it's the brain that controls everything. Bad stress is…feeling anxiety right before doing a very important presentation and smoking a cigarette and having a drink to quote en quote calm your nerves. It does the opposite and puts more stress on the heart. Good stress comes about when you're engaging in healthy activities like exercise, or being around someone who makes you happy, feel excited. Sex can be good stress for the heart. In most situations," the doctor clarified.
Damon absorbed what Dr. Alexander said for a moment. "So long story short I can have sex?"
"Yes, Damon, you can have sex," Dr. Alexander cracked a smile. "But I want to make sure you're ready for it," he reached over to the desk in the room and picked up the Holter monitor. He showed the device to Damon who stared at it speculatively. "This little device is a portable electrocardiograph that records the reaction of your heart as you go about your day. I can outfit you for one and it will beep to let you know if you're stressing your heart out too much."
"All right."
"You're doing remarkably well, Damon. Living in fear that something may go wrong could have serious repercussions with your transplant. So long as you follow our recommendations you can live well into your golden years."
"And that's exactly what I want," Damon reassured his doctor.
Half an hour later Damon signed out, and tried not to fiddle with the monitor that had been strapped to his chest. He felt like he was wearing a wire.
Stefan straightened from his hunched over pose and looked Damon over from head to toe. "You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"What the hell took so long?
The two brothers began advancing toward the exit stirring up quite a ruckus in their wake as sleep deprived nurses, interns, and patients stopped all activity just to stare.
"Dr. Al is just very thorough," Damon explained.
"All systems are ready to go for tonight?" Stefan ribbed and elbowed his brother.
Rolling his eyes, Damon said, "Yes, you jackass. Let's get something to eat because I'm starving."
Queens, NY
April 4th, 2014 4:45 pm
Bonnie was officially freaking the fuck out. Her date with Damon was in less than three hours and she had accomplished nothing. Nothing!
She had rushed out of work early to hop over to her favorite store to pick up a few accessories and maybe another pair of stilettos. Instead she wasted too much time being indecisive which of course ate away her time in getting ready.
Once she made it home her phone wouldn't stop ringing off the hook. The first call had been from Lacey giving her last minute pointers as if Bonnie had never gone out on a date with a ridiculously good looking man before. The next call had been from her assistant who needed Bonnie to repeat her set of instructions she left in a detailed email that should have been as easy as counting to ten.
All these interruptions turned her into a klutz. Everything her fingers touched or made a go to grab she dropped. When her house phone rang just a second after her cell phone began blaring, Bonnie stood frozen whipping her head between each object completely torn on which one to answer first.
Throughout the day she constantly gave herself pep talks to ward off her insecurities. What if Damon changes his mind and cancels, had been the first thing to pop into her head when she woke up this morning. What if I bore him and he never wants to see me again? Or what if I do something incredibly stupid?
"All right, stop," Bonnie slammed her hands down. Calmly she walked over to her cell phone to answer it because the only folks who called her landline number were telemarketers with thick, heavy accents.
"Elijah, hey," Bonnie answered and reentered her closet searching for something classy yet sexy, sophisticated, yet sensual to wear. If ever such a garment existed it sure as hell wasn't hanging up in her closet.
"Am I calling at a bad time? You sound distracted."
"I'm just rooting through my closet looking for something to wear. What's up?"
"That's perfect actually because the reason I'm calling, and I know its short notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and have dinner with me tonight?"
A corner of Bonnie's lip got missing between her teeth. For some strange reason a guilty pang went through her. She enjoyed having dinner with Elijah but a small part of Bonnie wondered if he was beginning to read more into the lunches and dinners they shared. He never did anything like unnecessarily crowd her space or found some reason to touch her, but call it woman's intuition, a woman knew when a man was feeling her.
Bonnie couldn't say with a hundred percent absolute certainty that was the case with Elijah. Maybe she was the one reading too much into something.
"I would love to," Bonnie cleared her throat. "But I have a date tonight."
"Oh."
And that 'oh' made Bonnie feel like she was being disloyal to Henrik.
"Well…I hope you enjoy your time. Call me if you need anything."
"Okay. Maybe we can get together for drinks on Saturday or maybe brunch on Sunday," she tossed out trying to throw Elijah a bone.
"Maybe. Just give me a call. Have a good night, Bonnie."
The phone call ended and Bonnie was even more uncertain about going out now than she was only moment's ago.
Every night since she ran into Damon at that bar they had spoken. Whether it was through text, email, or over the phone the conversation between them never seemed to end. This all made her giddy on the inside and took her back to her elementary days of crushing on someone for the first time. It was ridiculous. The effect this still almost virtual stranger had on her.
But Bonnie wouldn't trade this feeling in the world. She didn't want to go back to sulking and being miserable all the time. Being depressed or unemotional just going through the motions of life mimicking a well put together zombie. Henrik had been so full of life, constantly in motion he wouldn't want her to sit locked up in their home rotting away while reminiscing about their lives by repetitively flipping through photo albums.
He'd want her to go out. Maybe not with a man who on looks alone did some serious damage to her reproductive organs.
Bonnie's cheeks burned and she returned to her search for something to wear. With time slipping away she needed to focus, calm her tits, and get herself together.
When all else failed always go with black, she ruled. It slimmed, it trimmed; it gave one the air of mystery, danger, sensuality. Bonnie pulled out the black Herve Leger icon bandage dress shrugging ruefully. It would just have to do. A wicked smile traipsed across her face.
6:58 p.m.
Damon cupped a hand in front of his mouth and checked his breath. Still minty fresh. Tugging on the hem of his suit jacket, he pressed his finger on the doorbell and listened to it buzz.
Lucky for him he had managed to find a place to park across the street from Bonnie's brownstone. He briefly checked over his shoulder but then snapped his head forward when the door opened.
Gulp.
"Um…hi," Damon's cheeks burned and his heart monitor beeped.
"Hey," Bonnie pushed the door open and motioned for Damon to come inside.
He swept into her house thankful for the distraction because what he saw should have been illegal. Was fabric ever intended to mold to a body like that? Damon, honestly, should have been immune to it since he built his company on the backs of sexy women and men and had seen some of the best bodies on the planet in various stages of dress and undress.
Yet he had appraised those individuals with a critical and keen eye. It was different with Bonnie because, though she may have been petite, she had body for days.
The Holter monitor beeped—loudly, at least to Damon when he turned around and was able to get a better look at Bonnie under direct light.
Fuck, he was in trouble.
He was doing that thing again, Bonnie shifted nervously on her feet. He was doing that thing where he could make a glance feel like a touch. A massage really. Kneading all of her muscles one by one. Touching her in places that hadn't been touched in months.
"You found my place all right," Bonnie diverted her thoughts. If she hadn't she and Damon would have loomed in the foyer and just stared at one another all night.
"You are…stunning," Damon blurted in awe.
Bonnie looked down and ran her shaky hands over the bodice of her dress and down her thighs unintentionally seducing her date. "Thank you," she forced her head up. "You look handsome as well."
And he did, dressed in all black once more. His obsidian hair was wind-tousled, cheeks a little pink; lips red and full, but those jewel-like eyes were making her nervous. If Damon opened up his mouth to suggest they should just stay in, order some take out, Bonnie wouldn't have the strength to tell him no. If he wanted to cuddle on the couch, maybe use those lips on her neck or mouth, and those fingers of his inched up her skirt, Bonnie wasn't certain she could trust herself to push him away.
"Why thank you," Damon winked eliciting a giggle from Bonnie.
She heard something beep. "Did something beep just now?"
"Oh, um that was probably my phone," Damon lied. "Are you ready or do you need a few more minutes?"
"I'm ready. I just have to do some…ah…shut off something's, grab my purse, jacket, and I'll be ready to go. Please, make yourself at home."
Bonnie had to walk past Damon in order to carry out everything she said she needed to do; however, she didn't make it very far.
He grabbed her gently by the arm, pulled her in front of him, and just stared into her verdant orbs. Was it possible for someone to get prettier and prettier each time you saw them, the man wondered, and then answered his own question. Yes, if that person was Bonnie Bennett.
Her black tresses fell into teased waves that stopped at her shoulders. Her lips were painted an obscene shade of red that made Damon curious as to how the color would look peppered around his pale white skin. That dress she was wearing though made him groan—almost since it was doing an outstanding job of paying homage to the curves of her breasts—more than a handful; those hips, her thighs, leaving her well-formed calf muscles exposed. Even her feet housed in a pair of strappy stilettos were sexy as hell.
If he didn't stop devouring her Bonnie was more or less positive they wouldn't be leaving the house. Henrik, as much as he loved her had never gazed at her this intensely before. Not to the point she was blushing all over and her skin was pebbling as if she ran outside without her coat on. It was technically spring but winter hadn't gotten the memo yet.
"Damon," Bonnie called his name snapping him out of his happy place.
He blinked and then pulled Bonnie forward into a hug.
Her tiny arms wrapped around him and squeezed. The last person who may have hugged him might have been Stefan. Damon really couldn't remember.
In this embrace Bonnie could gather Damon took exceptional care of himself. He was all muscle, hard steel, and he smelled fucking edible.
Taking one look at Bonnie anyone would be able to see she was tiny. Having her in his arms, Damon didn't feel a shred of fragility.
A full minute may have passed before Damon reluctantly released her. They smiled goofily at one another before Bonnie scurried off and ran around her bedroom like a cyclone shutting off flat irons, her TV, music, and stuffing last minute odds and ends into her purse.
Damon was a snooper so it came as no surprise he shuffled on over to the fireplace mantle to take a look at the photos displayed on top. All of them except for a few housed pictures of Bonnie and Henrik. They were a good looking couple, Damon couldn't refute that.
"I'm ready," Bonnie announced and caught Damon perusing her photos.
He pivoted to face her and frowned. She looked a little ashen. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Bonnie said and placed another smile on her face only this one didn't reach her eyes.
"Nice looking guy," Damon said.
"He was," Bonnie swallowed thickly.
"Good friend?" he didn't know why he was baiting her as if he didn't already know the story behind the man with the long hair and dark eyes.
"My husband. He died last September in a car crash."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Bonnie didn't want to talk about Henrik right now. "Hmm."
"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Damon took a step forward. He waited for the widow to respond.
"I am."
Another step brought Damon closer. "We don't have to do this tonight. I don't want you to feel pressured."
"Damon…I'm fine. To prove it we should go."
"All right."
Escorting her out of the house and waiting while she locked up, Damon reached for Bonnie's hand and helped her down the stairs and over to his parked car.
Once he was settled behind the wheel, Bonnie shifted on the heated seat. "So where exactly are we going?" she questioned. "You were deliberately vague when I tried to wrestle the answer out of you last night."
Palming the steering wheel Damon pulled away from the curb expertly and headed west. He briefly peeled his eyes off the road to look at his date.
"Tsk, tsk, madam. You want to know something I've discovered? It's hard to sometimes to think of a truly original idea. Almost everything has been done before and that's where you have to reach deep down in your bag of tricks to find innovation. We've talked a lot."
"We have," Bonnie agreed with a nod of her head.
"Each of us has gone on our fair share of dinners and lunches, right?" Damon said rhetorically. "But I think neither one of us has done this. At least I don't think," he gave her a sidelong glance. "I know I haven't, and trust me when I say I've tried just about everything."
Unintentionally Bonnie laughed. "What have you cooked up inside of that over worked mind of yours, Salvatore?"
He didn't respond. Not right away. Damon took his eyes off the road and stared first at Bonnie's bare legs, traveling up over the buttons of her wool pea coat, moving upward to her neck, before settling his gaze on her face. The dark interior light did a poor job of concealing its glow.
"That's one of my advantages and disadvantages," he admitted. "Thinking too much."
"I don't see that as a bad thing," Bonnie contradicted. "Our brains are capable of storing three million years of space so whether we're sleeping or wide away, we're always thinking about something. Even not thinking can still be constituted as thinking."
"Then let me say I like the way you think," Damon took a risk by putting his hand on Bonnie's knee. She didn't shove it off. Quite the contrary she draped her hand over his and squeezed.
Their eyes met again.
Bonnie fought the urge to lean over the console and lay one Damon's cheek. She was never forward with guys always deferring to them and letting them take the lead. The fact she didn't even feel peculiar about his hand being on her leg sent shockwaves through the young woman. Hopefully she wasn't coming off as easy.
She wanted to look away from Damon's probing gaze but found herself unable to do so. Her cheeks were burning. She didn't need a mirror to know that. Bonnie didn't even think she blushed this much in high school or in college when the guy she had been crushing on finally decided to stop playing dumb and acknowledged her existence.
Did she even flush this much the first time she had sex or slept with Henrik on their wedding night?
She cleared her throat as thoughts of Henrik sprung into existence. How would he honestly feel about her moving on? Finding happiness with someone who wasn't him? How would he feel if he knew that her attraction to Damon seemed to defy all comprehension? Now wasn't the moment to think about Henrik.
Instead of ruminating on what her dead husband might find appropriate, Bonnie's thoughts traveled to the past. The brief one she shared with Damon.
Back when they initially met in college, Bonnie hadn't been blind. She knew Damon was one of the hottest guys on campus, however he had yet to grow into his body or ears for that matter; she coughed to cover up a giggle. Damon was about thirty pounds lighter back then, his hair much shorter which made his ears very noticeable. Now that he was "full grown" when Bonnie looked at him she didn't see a man child, but the quintessence of masculinity.
Bonnie examined his hand on her leg. His thumb had, off and on, stroked her skin, but hadn't inched its way any closer to the treasure hidden underneath her skirt.
Damon fixed his eyes back on the road almost missing their exit. "I guess I should have warned you to dress a little more warmly."
Bonnie stared down at her outfit. "This isn't appropriate?"
"It is for what I have planned later but…what you have on will afford me the opportunity to keep you warm," he grinned.
Her womb clenched and Bonnie pressed her thighs closer together.
"Don't get any smart ideas," she warned. "I'm not that kind of woman."
"Oh, I know that. With your permission of course I'd love to keep you warm."
"Maybe. We'll see," Bonnie relaxed against the seat. "So I take it you aren't traditional when it comes to dating?"
"No, I'm not. A high school kid can take someone out to eat and to a movie. Me, I aim to impress because a night with me should be magical," he waggled his eyebrows at Bonnie.
Bonnie bit into her bottom lip to contain her smile. "Well how do you know I'm not a fan of tradition?"
"Hmm, well considering how we met in the first place, neither one of us should play it safe."
"You're really going to milk that for all it's worth, aren't you?"
"Yep."
"One of these days, Damon I might have to save you."
Taking his eyes off the road once more, Damon stared at Bonnie's profile. Something inside told him she very well may have to.
Moments later Damon was pulling his Audi out of congested city traffic and merging onto the highway that would lead to Westchester County. He and Bonnie had filled the time by talking about their day. He omitted seeing his physician for an emergency appointment, but did tell Bonnie he had lunch with his brother and two best friends.
"These were the same guys who were with me the night of that now infamous basketball game," he had expounded.
"There you go again. Bringing up old stuff," Bonnie deadpanned. "But it's good you're still close to the guys you met in college. I really don't hang out with anyone I graduated with anymore. We might shoot one another an email every now and a then, but actually seeing each other," she shook her head.
"Why not?" Damon pressed his foot on the accelerator, speedometer climbing toward eighty-five miles an hour. "Did you have a falling out or something?"
"No, we just grew apart. My suitemates Charlie and Annabelle stayed in Cambridge. Everyone else I was close with either moved to Connecticut, Texas, or California. I was the only one who had the balls to move to New York."
"Not the only one," Damon referred to himself delivering Bonnie a righteous look to which she rolled her eyes.
"So you moved to New York to manage models?" Bonnie began her official cross examination. "That's your family business?"
"My family's business is investments. Stefan runs the company now that the old man is pushing up daisies. I'm merely a shareholder. Managing models wasn't what I wanted to do with my life, and it all happened by accident, really."
"Oh yeah, you told me during our first conversation."
Damon cleared his throat. "Yeah, working seventy hours a week basically driving my dad's company into the ground was not what I had in mind after graduating."
"Do you regret quitting the way you did?" Bonnie absent-mindedly ran her fingers over the back of Damon's hand. It shot tendrils of pleasure up his spine.
"No," Damon answered unequivocally and tried not to shiver at her touch. "Leaving work in the middle of a meeting with investors was the second best decision I made."
"What was the first?" an inquiring mind wanted to know.
"Asking you out of course."
Bonnie flashed a smile. Damon continued with his story.
"I just saw myself becoming one of those crusty old men in a suit, arguing with someone thirty years my junior on where to invest my livelihood knowing I was being conned. So I got out. Quit that same day and just walked around New York when I came across this prostitute."
Bonnie blinked and cocked her head to the side. "A prostitute?" this was a part of the story she hadn't heard before.
"Yeah," Damon continued as if there was nothing wrong. "I went up to her not because I wanted to fu…ah proposition her. She was probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and she was dressed conservatively for a lady of the night. Anyways, I chatted her up and then took her out to dinner. We just talked. She told me her life story. At that time this really big designer was having dinner a couple of tables away and I noticed he kept staring at my…date," he grinned. "So eventually he approached and wanted to know if she had done any modeling. She had surprisingly in her hometown Brownsville, Texas. So I jumped in and said I was her manager. The fashion designer gave me his card and that was pretty much the start of it all. If I told you this model's name you wouldn't believe me."
"I'm not all that familiar with models," Bonnie said.
"If I said her name you would be," Damon guaranteed. "I managed her for three years and she's gone off to start her own firm."
"I can't believe it," Bonnie muttered. "You're the modern day Richard Gere."
"I wouldn't say all that. I wasn't trying to turn her into a housewife."
"You were just trying to be her pimp," Bonnie teased.
Damon frowned.
Finally they made it to their destination. Damon eased his sleek black automobile through the wrought iron gates and over the graveled driveway.
Bonnie's gaze darted around and when they finally landed on the large object looming some distance away in an open field, her jaw plummeted on to her lap. She leaned forward trying to get a better view of what she was seeing front of her.
Damon carefully examined the play of emotions on her face. Excitement, fear, trepidation, just to name a few. He unbuckled his belt and opened the car door.
The cold gust of wind that flew into the car snapped Bonnie out of her mini-trance. When she saw that the driver seat was empty, and caught sight of Damon walking to her side of the car, she too unbuckled her belt.
One heel of her stilettos sank into the moistened earth followed by the other once her door was opened.
"Surprised?" Damon asked.
Numbly, Bonnie bobbed her head up and down. Her eyes traveled up and kept going until they reached the top of the multi-colored balloon.
"I can definitely say I've never done this before. Not on a first date or any date for that matter."
Tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow, Damon led the way over to the waiting hot air balloon. "Too much?" he asked as they crossed the grassy knoll.
"No, it's perfect."
"I still hope you feel that way when we're up in the sky. You think its cold now but being down here will feel like the Sahara during summer compared to up there. But I've taken care of a couple of things to make sure the ride will be somewhat pleasant."
When the twosome reached the basket of the hot air balloon they were enthusiastically greeted by their pilot. A wiry man with gray hair, an untrimmed beard, Harry Potter glasses, wearing a North Face parka, corduroy pants, and construction boots.
Bonnie shook the pilot's hand who introduced himself as Bart Berrigan. "I'm going to freeze up there, aren't I?"
Yes, she was most certainly under dressed for the event. Damon, though wearing slacks and a fashionable trench coat, he wouldn't be much warmer than her once they hit the sky.
"Oh, no," Bart waved his hands back and forth and shook his head. "I've taken care of all of that. I have some gear in here the both of you can slip on, and I've even provided a thermos of my wife's famous rum and raspberry hot cocoa."
What an interesting mix Bonnie thought as Bart reached into a black duffel bag and removed a bundle that he handed off to her. Unfurling the item her lips turned down at the corners and she looked up at Damon. The both of them would be wearing padded jumpers Bonnie had seen fishermen in Alaska wear. Gloves, hats, scarves, and even a durable pair of boots were provided.
Once they were settled, and Bart explained the mechanics of how the hot air contraption would work, he locked them into the basket, pulled on the parachute valve cord turning up the heat of the burners and they were slowly leaving the ground.
This of course made Bonnie grab the railing of the wicker basket for dear life. Hot air balloons didn't come with seats or safety belts. The heat from up above added another layer of warmth, but Bonnie wasn't going to remove the hat she stuffed on her head out of fear the chemicals in her hair might ignite. She was taking no chances.
Her heart stilled in her chest as they rose, getting closer to the stars. She felt the change in temperature as they drifter higher. It happened in increments that stole her breath. When Bonnie looked down her head swam for a moment. She wouldn't say she had a fear of heights, but she also wasn't a fan of being very high without glass and steel encased around her as protection.
"Thank you," she murmured to Bart when he handed her a thermos. Bonnie took an experimental sip, made a noise of delight, and took another. "This is really good!" she yelled. She didn't expect there to be so much noise.
"I'll let my wife know she has another satisfied customer!" Bart shouted back. Then he launched into a dissertation about how he would navigate the balloon without the use of controls, propellers, or an engine for that matter.
Bonnie was deeply enthralled asking questions to the point there was hardly a lapse in conversation between she and the pilot.
Damon slithered over to Bonnie to remind her she was on a date with him and not Bart who wouldn't stop talking as they began to sail over the trees in upstate New York. The plan was to fly over the city so Bonnie could get an aerial view of the place they both called home.
He wrapped his arm around her waist drawing her attention. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she smiled. "I had a little bit of vertigo at first but I'm getting used to it, or maybe it's the rum. Hey, you're not drinking your cocoa. You don't like it?"
The cocoa was fine, the rum inside of it was not and Damon didn't want to take any chances. He shook his head. "Not really my thing."
"I can't believe you thought of this, Damon. If I decide to go out with you again, how are you going to top this?"
"What do you mean if?" the man in question leaned his elbow along the top of the railing. "I thought I made my intentions perfectly clear."
"Yeah, you did, but I haven't."
That made Damon frown and straighten to his full height. Bonnie's smile faded when she saw how quickly his demeanor changed from playful to serious.
"So…are you saying this is a one-time thing?" he asked past the rock stuck in the back of his throat. His monitor beeped again.
Bonnie stared down at the thermos in her gloved hands. "No, I would love to go out with you again."
"But," the blue-eyed man tacked on knowing it was coming.
Sniffling mostly due to the cold temperature of the air, Bonnie glanced back up at Damon. "But nothing," she smiled. "A man who takes me on a hot air balloon ride over New York is a keeper in my book."
Relieved he wasn't being dumped, Damon cupped Bonnie's cheek. Now would have been the perfect time for him to fall back on what came naturally to him, and kiss her. He had dreamt of little else but tasting Bonnie's mouth and it looked so inviting painted in that glorious shade of red. He could almost taste the chocolaty sweetness of the drink she had been consuming. He wanted that taste on his tongue.
Here they hovered some twenty thousand feet in the air approaching the highway which led to the city. Could there have been a more perfect moment?
Bonnie may have been out of the dating loop but she knew when a man wanted to kiss her. Unconsciously she wet her bottom lip. If she kissed Damon she might not be able to stop.
The roar of Bart pulling on the lever that made the burners ignite startled the both of them. That may have been a signal for a missed opportunity. Damon took a step away from Bonnie, but she grabbed him by the knot in his scarf to keep him from going anywhere.
Their foreheads pressed together which was only minutely awkward considering their differences in height.
Bonnie's lips tingled. Just one kiss wouldn't hurt anything, right? She wouldn't be breaking a dating rule or giving Damon the impression she was going to fuck his brains out by the end of the night, would she?
Lower Manhattan
April 4th, 2014 10:10 pm
For a change in pace he was spending his Friday night at home in the luxurious apartment he only saw maybe a total of twenty hours a week if he were lucky. Elijah traded his Burberry suit and tie for a V-neck crew sweater and a pair of jeans. Carrying a tumbler of brandy in hand, he stepped out on his terrace.
Taking a sip he pulled his lips back from his teeth, and took a panoramic look at his view.
After Hayley left his office, Rebekah called him up wondering if he had had a special visitor to which Elijah took great joy in telling his sister to keep her nose out of his business. When she asked what his plans were for the following evening since he wouldn't be wining and dining Hayley, Elijah kept things vague. He wasn't going to tell Rebekah he wanted to have dinner with Bonnie, which had been his original plan from the start, knowing she would just start another round of lecturing he wasn't in the damn mood to hear.
He was a grown man capable of choosing someone to date on his own. He didn't need his sister's pity or her hand-holding.
Elijah ordered himself not to think about Bonnie and whom she might be out with, or what the two of them may have been doing. It wasn't his business. He only hoped she was careful and exercised good judgment.
Gotdamnit he sounded like her father.
Sighing, Elijah finished off the rest of his brandy. He continued to enjoy his view of the city, and right before he was about to head back inside, a round object floating past the moon caught his attention. Squinting, Elijah said, "Is that a hot air balloon?"
Chapter end.
A/N: Poor Elijah being an inadvertent witness to Bamon's first date. I rewrote their first date three times because what I had written just included too many details I didn't feel like diving into, plus the ideas seemed a little far-fetched for a first date, plus I wanted them to do something I haven't written about and something where they could talk. So the hot air balloon ride is just the first leg of their journey. The rest is soon to follow. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! *Oh and special disclaimer* But I'm not a doctor obvious so take all of Dr. Alexander's advice about what's good stress for the heart with a grain of salt.