Chapter Eighteen
Six and a Half Years Ago
Waterfront Park, Portland, Oregon
The Meet Cute
“Oh my God, I am so sorry.”
Even though I have my hands over my face, I know his voice. Never in a million years did I picture actually meeting him at the exact moment I’m assaulted by a rogue Frisbee. When I peer through my fingers he’s kneeling in front of me, with ten other guys behind him, reaching for my hands.
“Let me see it,” he says, wrapping his hands over mine. “Go get her some ice!” He yells at someone near him. “Is anything broken?”
When he pulls my hands from my face he lets out a little gasp. “Is it bad?” I ask him, worried about what he’s seeing. Is my eyeball hanging from its socket? Is there a gaping wound? Is my brain (or lack of brain) visible?
He laughs. “Nah, you’re going to have a black eye, but I think your skull is still intact. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh.” I wave my hand at him trying to play it cool. “It’s no problem. It’s actually why I came down here. I haven’t had enough black eyes in my lifetime, and I was needing a memorable Fourth of July story to tell my grandkids.”
“Well… I don’t think you have concussion. Your wit seems to still be still intact.” He laughs and sits next to me, inspecting my face closely. “It didn’t break the skin but it is starting to swell. I feel like a real ass.”
“You should, you ruined my face.” I try to joke through the pain.
“It’s a very pretty face too.” He smiles at me sympathetically. “I feel like maybe I know you from somewhere.”
“You do, I’m the girl who makes great coffee.”
He comes to my coffee window nearly every day. His passenger seat is always piled high with books, and every day he orders the same thing: an Americano with room for cream, with two sugars. I never talk to him, apart from taking his order. How can I? He’s beautiful. Probably easily the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever not formally met. His baby face melts my heart every time he smiles at me as I hand him his coffee.
“Right! You are the coffee girl. I knew I knew you. How weird is this?”
“Weird that I don’t spend every waking moment at the coffee shop?”
“No.” His friend returns with the ice. He gently raises it to my eye that is feeling puffier by the second. “Weird because I always want to talk to you but, you know… In the drive-up, there isn’t a lot of time for conversations.”
“You wanted to talk to me?” I’m a little surprised by this, because he’s always so nonchalant at the drive-up. Like he’s avoiding chit-chat with random coffee gurus.
“Of course. You’re gorgeous, and you do make a heck of a coffee.” He pulls away the ice pack to see if it’s working. He grits his teeth and scrunches his face up, obviously disappointed in my healing progress during the past sixty seconds. “How about I make this up to you today?”
I glance over at my friends, who are all anxiously nodding their heads. They act as if I’ve never met a random gorgeous man before.
“I’m kind of not looking my best today. Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”
“Of course, but luckily for you, my father owns one of the yachts on the river here and I’ve got it all to myself today. So you won’t have to face a lot of people with your… injury.” He points out at one of the larger boats docked at the port. “What do you say? The fireworks look a lot better from the water.”
“What about your friends?” I glance with my one good eye at the group of guys standing around watching my pathetic attempt at pretending I’m not jumping for joy on the inside.
“These guys don’t mind. Right, guys?”
They all mumble something at us before grabbing the Frisbee and going back to their game.
“I’ll go, but on one condition,” I say.
“Anything.”
“You tell me your name?”
“Right. God, I’m sorry. I’m Jack Cabot. And you are?”
“Emi Harrison.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Emi. Let’s go.”
It’s not easy to follow someone through a crowd when you’re holding an ice pack over one eye. Especially when you’re not exactly coordinated to begin with. Jack is holding my hand, and that alone has my heart racing. Even my brain feels like it may be overheating. I just don’t normally have luck like this, so my heart and my head are having a hard time connecting the dots here.
“This is it.” We stand in front of a monstrous boat with windows all along the dock that are tinted so dark I can’t even see into them.
“Wow. This is yours?”
“Well… By default of the fact that the owner is my father, yes. Have you ever been on one?”
“No. I generally stay on the suburb side of the city.” Why am I hinting that I still live with my parents?
He laughs at me before hopping on board and holding a hand out to assist me up. Luckily, I make it up in one piece without sliding down between the boat and the dock into the water.
“Let me give you the grand tour.”
I follow him into a living room with white leather couches along both sides just under the tinted windows. A wall of electronics is on one side of the room, and a gourmet kitchen lies just past a half wall on the other end.
“Whoa… This is bigger than I expected.” This is the kind of thing that happens in movies. Barista meets gorgeous guy and climbs aboard his yacht the day they meet. What is my life suddenly?
“Below are two bedrooms and two bathrooms.”
“Holy shi-oot.” Save the sailor’s mouth for when you know him better, Ems. “This is nice. Are you sure your parents won’t mind that I’m here?”
I watch him laugh at my almost-less-than-ladylike language.
“Why would they mind? Originally I was going to have the guys out here with me.”
“Oh, I guess I’d probably do less damage than those guys.” I point at my black eye.
“Again, I’m so sorry about that.” He reaches up and gently touches the side of my face. “Before we leave dock I can run down the street and grab dinner and bring it back. Is there anything you don’t eat or are allergic to? I’d hate to do any more damage than I’ve already done.”
Dinner at sunset, watching fireworks, on a yacht, with the most gorgeous man I’ve crushed on forever? Yes, please. I feel like I’m a princess who’s just boarded her private yacht to sail the open sea with the handsome prince.
“Nope, just nothing seafood-ish, if possible.”
“Allergic?”
“No, just don’t like it.”
“I knew we’d get along. I hate seafood.”
“Really? Most people look at me like I’m crazy when I say that.”
“I get it, it’s the fishy flavor and the texture, yuk.” His scrunched-up face makes me laugh aloud.
“Yeah.” That’s it, we’re soulmates. We both spontaneously hate seafood and he can practically read my mind. I’m convinced.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in thirty.”
As soon as he leaves I hunt for the stairs to below, as he called it. I need to find a bathroom and see just how bad this eye thing is. A tight doorway off the side of the kitchen opens to a very narrow stairway which I hold my breath through for reasons I don’t quite understand. Three doorways are off the small hall so I crack open the first door and walk into a bedroom decorated in all blues and golds. Along the top of the walls are the same tinted windows. Not seeing a bathroom, I head back to the next doorway which opens up to the back of the boat. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a small deck illuminate a bedroom I could only imagine seeing in a movie. Everything is turquoise and white and spotless. I’m afraid to touch anything, but I do see an opened door near the far corner so I walk towards it and into a bathroom so stark white I’m almost afraid to enter it. Luckily a whole wall is covered in mirrors, which is both good and bad because my eye is an awful shade of purple but the swelling isn’t as bad as I’d expected. My mascara is smeared partway down my cheek, but because of the color of my bruise, you can hardly tell. “No amount of makeup could fix this mess,” I say to myself, wishing it could.
I pull out the makeup I have in my purse anyway. It’s worth a shot. I don’t buy this mineral powder for nothing. It takes me a good fifteen minutes to get the purple down to an almost lavender. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than it was.
“Hello?” I hear Jack upstairs, probably wondering if I ran away from him.
“I’m down here.” I try and scurry back up to the top floor, but the hallway is so tight it feels like a pinball machine as I bounce between the walls on the way up the stairs. “Sorry, I…”
“Wow, it looks a little better.” He reaches up and gently runs his thumb across the swelling just under my eye. I bite my lip, hoping that he won’t wipe away all my hard work I just did. “Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry, again. I feel like I can’t apologize enough.” He frowns at me.
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not like you did it intentionally.”
“Right, totally didn’t mean for this to happen. Although if I ever wanted a unique way to meet a girl, this would make a great story.” He winks at me before stepping aside and allowing me to walk back into the kitchen. “I got pasta, is that OK?”
“More than OK.”
“I thought we could head out to a spot on the river I like, and eat on the deck?”
“Sounds good. You actually know how to drive this thing?”
“It’s my first time, but how hard could it be?” He winks at me with a laugh. “I’m kidding. I’ve been driving it since I was fourteen.”
“Good.” I smile at him, nervously.
I follow him out onto the deck and into a small cabin, resembling the cab of a very luxurious car.
“Have a seat.”
“Aren’t your friends going to be upset you ditched them for the day? I know I would if I thought I was going out on this.”
“They’ll get over it. They all agreed to help me mee—” He stops mid-sentence and glances over at me nervously. “They agreed to help me make sure you were OK.”
“What were you going to say?”
His head drops down with a small nervous laugh. “I threw that Frisbee your way on purpose, but not to hit you with it. Just to maybe meet you when it landed near you.”
I can feel the smile creeping up on my face before forcing it away. “You wanted to meet me?”
“Of course. You’re beautiful.”
“Well, I was…”
He laughs to himself. “No, you still are, black eye and all.”
“Is throwing Frisbees at girls something you do all the time?”
“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s footballs.” He winks at me again. “I actually don’t do a lot of dating. I’m a law student so I don’t have a lot of time.”
“It was different with me, though?” Why am I asking all the questions? What if I end up with an answer I don’t like? Am I going to swim back to shore? I’m stuck out here with him until he brings me back.
“It feels different to me. Are we not feeling the same thing?” He suddenly looks nervous when he looks at me.
“I’ve been feeling it for a long time, but I don’t exactly hit on random gorgeous men who come through the drive-through and never talk to me.”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” His nervous face turns into a giant smile, his dark eyes sparkling as he leans towards my seat. “You should have said something.”
“Nah…” My breath catches in my throat as he moves closer to me. “What would I have said without sounding like a crazy lady?”
As soon as I stop talking, his lips meet mine. It’s quick, but if I was standing I feel like it would’ve knocked me off my feet.
“I’m sorry.” He pulls away, his cheeks flushed. “I just…”
“No, no, it’s OK. It’s really, really OK.” My heart finally starts to beat again and I take a deep breath to try and focus.
“I’m not normally so forward. Actually, this is more the guys I was with than me. I’m the guy who stands in the corner and watches everyone else score. But there is just something about you.”
“You watch everyone else score?” I ask nervously, hoping he’s not into weird sexual voyeurism crap with his frat friends.
“No, ew, I mean… God.” He runs his hand through his dark messy hair. “I don’t actually know what I mean.” He turns his attention to the boat, turns some knobs, pulls some levers, and turns back to me. “Did you ever meet someone and feel like you’d known them forever? Like there was some kind of connection you had previously?”
“Not until now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”
“It is.” He laughs away whatever tension he had built up. “How about we have dinner and get to know each other, and see where that takes us?”
“You mean… physically?” My voice cracks as I say it, nervously. I’m not exactly experienced with a lot of men, and this is a man I don’t want to prove that to on Day One.
“No. No, I don’t… uh… I don’t… Jeez, I… That is something I don’t push quickly.” His nervous laugh is becoming cuter and cuter every time he does it. “I’m really looking like a perverted loser here, aren’t I?”
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head.
“Come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me out onto the deck. “Help me get the food and we’ll come back out to eat?” The sun is starting to set, and the music on the shore in front of us is getting loud.
I carry the two bags of food while he grabs a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. “My mom never runs out, so she won’t miss a bottle.” He winks at me.
I’m on a yacht, having dinner with a guy I’ve dreamed about, and he just stole a bottle of wine out of his mother’s collection. Be still, my heart…
Over the next hour, Jack and I learn everything one could learn about each other on the first three dates. He’s got a sister, he’s from a wealthy family, he’s in law school, he’s only ever had one somewhat serious relationship that lasted a year, and he believes in fate.
I learn that I’m completely in love. I love the way he raises his right eyebrow when I say something questionable or unladylike, which is often. When I tell him, hesitantly, that I’ve never been in a serious relationship, he seems relieved instead of scared.
“I’ll drive you home,” he volunteers as we hop back onto the dock after the fireworks end.
“It’s clear across town; I don’t mind calling a cab.”
“I want to, Ems,” he says. He started calling me Ems about midway through dinner. Normally only the people closest to me use that name. It’s another sign from fate that we are meant to be. “It gives me a bit more time with you.” He takes my hand in his and leads me to a black SUV parked in the lot of the pier.
“I can’t argue with that.”
Even though I just had the best, most unexpected date of my entire life, the car ride to my house is quiet and awkward. There isn’t much left to talk about, and the sexual tension is far too much for me.
“It’s the house on the right.”
His eyebrow rises again when he looks over at me with a smile. “So, I’m guessing you’ve been on a yacht before…”
“Actually, I haven’t. My parents are, uh… old. So, their yacht days are long behind them. I just reap the benefits of a big house and not lacking in anything.”
“Gotcha. You have my number?”
“Yes.” I’d pull it from my purse to prove it but I don’t want to look like that obsessed girl. “You have mine? Because you know it’s the man's job to call.”
He nods. “And I’m not going to wait forty-eight hours either, so be prepared for that.”
“I hope you don’t.” My words are playing cool and I hope my face is playing along, because my brain is struggling with me getting out of the car and playing my last card at hard to get, or waiting for him to kiss me, or me just mauling him and doing him right here in the car, which I promised myself I wouldn’t do.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait long and he kisses me. “I’m really glad I met you, officially,” he says, as he pulls away a moment later.
“Me too.”
“I’ll wait until I know you got in safe.”
“OK.” I open the car door and slowly walk towards my front door when the porch light flips on when I’m half way there. I glance back at Jack who is still watching me with a small wave.
“Where’ve you been?” Evan asks, the second I walk through the door.
“Out.”
“Who drove you home?”
“My future husband, if you must know.”
“Poor guy…” He rolls his eyes and walks away from me, unwilling to hear every detail of the best night of my entire life.