Chapter Twenty-One
Dwayne
“What would you like to eat?” I asked when we got in the car.
“Something meaty, like steak. A big filet mignon and a nice bottle of wine with a baked potato. I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
“There’s a place up the street called Sergio’s. I’ve never been there before, but everyone says it’s really good.”
“It sounds good.”
Gillian got the car started. “What did that little girl tell you?”
“It’s a secret.”
“You have to tell me now.” She pulled out of the lot.
“No, it’s between the two of us. I made a pact.”
“A pact?”
“She made me pinky swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. ‘Never, never,’ she said. That’s two nevers.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I really liked that. I can tell that the dance studio means a lot to you.”
“When Lexie got the small business loan, I was working ten hour shifts every day waiting tables. They didn’t even pay minimum wage and the tips were terrible, but it kept me going. Without that job, I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent.”
“But you quit anyways.”
“I did, and I hated myself for it. I thought for certain I’d end up on the streets, but she had kids waiting to start classes right away. Everything worked out.”
“It’s amazing that it did. You took a huge risk.”
“I don’t regret it. Working for the dance studio is the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“I admire your courage, Gillian.”
“I’m not sure if it’s courage or stupidity.”
“It’s courage, determination, hard work, and dedication.”
She turned to me, a warm smile across her face. “Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”
The restaurant was in a small, retrofitted home with private garden patio and music playing over loudspeakers. When the waiter showed us to our table outside, I pulled back Gillian’s chair.
“Thank you,” she sat down.
“Of course.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?” the waiter asked.
I turned to Gillian. “Merlot?”
“Fine with me.”
“Bring me a bottle of vintage merlot.”
“Vintage?” Gillian asked when the waiter left.
“You deserve the best.”
“When I first met you,” she said, “you were quiet and stiff. You hated talking to people and nobody else seemed to notice. It was hard to watch, honestly, because they kept hounding you. Now you’re different. You’re wild and unpredictable. It’s exciting to see you opening up.”
“It’s you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, it’s all your fault. I don’t know what it is about you, but when I’m with you I find myself doing and saying things that I never thought I’d do. I don’t even know where it comes from. It scared me at first because when I was in the navy, I prided myself on being controlled and disciplined. I didn’t want to lose that. Now, I can’t stop myself. I have to follow this through and see where this goes.”
She met my eyes. “You do?”
“I like you, Gillian. I really like you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She went to say something, but was interrupted by the waiter. “Here you are,” the waiter set down her glass and started pouring her wine.
“Thank you.”
He poured my wine and took our orders. Then when he left she went quiet and looked down at the empty plate on her placemat.
“What is it?” I asked, certain that I’d come on too strong.
“It’s not you. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Michael. I think he’s going to take this pretty hard.”
“Screw Michael. This is about us.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll put him in line.”
“I’ll let you handle it, then. It’s probably better to do it sooner, rather than later.”
“I don’t even want to talk about him. He’s not going to matter in the long run.” I took a sip of my drink. “My brother’s coming to town next Friday. He’s doing a show.”
“I’ve never seen him play. Is he any good?”
“He’s amazing — when he can stand up straight.”
“He’s a country singer.”
“Yeah, I never got it. There’s no point in playing a genre that most people hate, but he’s done pretty good. He’s been on tour several times and has three albums out.”
“It’s not easy to break into something like that. He might be a complete screw up — and I know he is — but it sounds like he’s got something.”
The waiter came out with two steaming plates with thick strips of filet mignon. Gillian dug into her food while I watched, eating slowly. She wasn’t putting up a front. She really felt comfortable being herself around me. It was refreshing.
When I finished, I set down my fork and took a drink of wine. “Do you want to know what that girl said?”
“Yes,” she took a sip. “I’m dying. You have to tell me.”
“She said that you were sad and now you’re happy.”
“She said that?”
“Yes, she did. You want know what I told her?”
“What’s that?”
“That I’m going to make sure you stay happy.”
She set down her glass and leaned in to kiss me, this time taking control — her lips, like a flower bud opening slowly, her tongue bursting into my mouth. I let the moment go on as long as I could, relishing every second of her gentle touch.
When she pulled back, my body was on fire, tingling, soaring, my heart pounding out a pagan beat. I looked down to see goosebumps on her arm. I traced my finger over them. “You’re beautiful.”
“I don’t know how you do this to me. You’ve got me thinking about you all day, looking for excuses to call you. I feel like I’m sixteen.”
“Sitting on the bleachers, pretending to do your homework.”
“You remember that?”
“Yes, and I knew that you were there to watch me. I liked you, too. I wanted to talk to you, but I was always too scared…and I knew that your brother would kick my butt if I did.”
“He still might.”
I flexed my arms and watched her shiver. “I can whoop him.”
Gillian downed her wine. Her movements were flowing, and her face was flushed. “Why don’t you let me drive?” I suggested.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I paid the bill and brought her back to the car. We drove back to her house. She was too buzzed to drive home when she dropped me off, so I thought I’d give her time to come down and clear her head.
When I stopped the car, she pulled me towards her and kissed me. “You’re coming inside.”