Carli
Great. Now I go looking to torture myself.
Following Jamieson to his car, he’s already started it with the air conditioning cranked. Like I’d expect less. The man has probably been melting bit by bit in this hot weather. Steam rises off him in thick tendrils when he even considers being outside, I’m sure. But hot is what I wanted, right? I wanted him to be bothered and turned on. Otherwise, I shouldn’t have grabbed his dick.
Pulling even my resolve to the edge of insanity, I finally relented. Following him and agreeing to lunch, I’ll have a hard time concentrating on food, but only because I want to see him try to impress me. Am I being evil choosing the restaurant I have? Yeah, sure I am. But I guess my goal of the day is to piss off all the Crown family members.
For sure, there’s no way Casper doesn’t know about the nasty things I said to China, so I doubt that I’ll be welcomed up to his room anytime soon. And now that Circe is being moved in with him—at least that’s how it sounded—then I bet the guards will have a kill order in place.
Memo. Next time I visit, best to wear pants and a top that’s not uber loose. Last thing I need is to be naked while being escorted out on the shoulder of a guard.
As we drive down from the hospital, I direct James toward this little hole-in-the-wall vegan joint. The food’s good, the atmosphere is somewhere between jammed and overcrowded, and there’s not an ounce of animal within. Well, present company excluded. This is gonna be fun for sure. I bet he’s never eaten vegan in his life. More than likely, Jamieson Crown has three large steaks for dinner with a side of chicken, two pounds of bacon, and three small pigeons for dessert. My vision of him pouring over a plate of wheatgrass and chickpeas is something I can’t wait to see.
On the drive over, I try to act aloof as I take in the man behind the wheel. He’s concentrating fully on the road, doesn’t venture a gaze at his cell once, and he’s kept his hands to himself. But everything about the man astounds me. His quietness, without the need to converse, screams of a different person altogether. Not what I’d expected.
“Pull up next to that blue car,” I tell him as we’re fast approaching the shop. Doing as instructed, Jamieson pulls up.
The spot I offered is going to be tight with his rental SUV, but I bet he can pull it off, just to prove to me that it can be done. Signaling, waiting for a car to pass, Jamieson folds the massive beast in as if he’s moving a Mini.
Call me pleasantly surprised.
As suspected, there’s at least ten people milling around outside the restaurant, and the sidewalk patio is full. If it looks like this down here, then there’s no way the rooftop isn’t over capacity.
He pulls the keys from the ignition. “Where to next, boss?” he asks.
“We’re here! Buck up, buddy.” Opening my door, I don’t give him a second to question the store. Wandering in, I bully my way to the counter, not looking to see if he followed behind. It doesn’t take long for the lady behind the counter to request my order, just as Jamieson tucks himself in behind me.
“What will you have?” she asks, taking in the gargantuan, gruff man. I bet she’s thinking the same thing I am. ‘What the fuck can we offer him? There’s no meat here, Mister.’
Without missing a beat, Jamieson says, “I’ll have the chickpea couscous, the tofu red apple salad as a side, and…a spring mountain smoothie, please.”
With her mouth agape and a look of shock, she pauses for a moment. ‘What the fuck’ is written all over her face. I bet my jaw is bouncing off the floor, too. Jamieson isn’t amiss here. In fact, he looks right at home ordering froufrou drinks and strictly off the new age menu with nuts and berries.
“What do you want, Carli?” Looking at me, there’s not an ounce of cynicism in his stare.
Picking my jaw up off the floor, I say, “I’m having a quinoa, cranberry, and wheatberry salad.” My favorite thing on the menu.
As the woman behind the counter stands stunned for a moment more, looking at the odd placement of someone so big, she slowly moves off to work on our lunches.
“You didn’t want a drink?” he asks sweetly.
I’m awestruck by Jamieson. Clearing the mud from my tongue, I speak, almost befuddled. “No. I’m, um…I’m good. I’ll just go grab a water from the system. I’ll be right back.”
On the far wall, Kiss My Greens has set up a fountain with varied fruits and veggies to accent your water. Picking up a glass, I add ice chips from the automated bucket, then select a few berries and a slice of cucumber. It’s on your honor that you don’t waste the fruit supplied, or make a meal of it instead of accentuating your fluids. Pouring in my water, watching the ice and plump raspberries float around, I’m immediately struck with a famishing thirst. Guzzling down the sweet nectar, I refill it before walking back to the order station.
“Ready?” Jamieson asks, holding up two paper bags and his smoothie.
“I thought we’d eat here.”
Shaking his head, he grins. “Carli, there’s not enough room to breathe here. Come on. I gave you a choice of what to eat, but you can’t expect me to sardine into one of those chairs.” His smirk is something I’m slowly learning to like. “Come on,” he says, “I have the perfect place to eat.”
I allow him this small victory in our war of wills “Fine, give me a sec.” Returning to the bar, I select a compostable cup, lid, and straw. Transferring my drink over, I grab a bit more water to fill it to the brim before sucking a bit down.
Walking to the door, pushing our way back through the crowd, we pop back into his rental. “Hold on, Carli,” Jamieson advises.
Opening the door for me, he juggles the bags and sets our drinks on the roof so that I can hop in.
“Thank you.”
He gives me a sweet smile, and “You’re welcome.”
Closing my door, he opens the back and sets the bags on the floor before hopping around to the driver's seat. “You’ll like it, I’m sure.”
“I’m trusting you, Jamieson.”
“I haven’t given you a reason not to, have I, Carli?” He’s serious, stoic, and he sounds almost worried. I need to lighten up the conversation.
“Well, if you pull up at a strip club or a brothel and I rush in before you, don’t be surprised.”
“Never a dull moment with you, Carli. Never.”
“Did you expect less?” I quip off.
Quieting, without answering my taunt, Jamieson pulls onto the road. With a quick jaunt down Santa Monica Boulevard, we park a few streets over from the famous pier.
“Ready?” he asks with that quick smile, popping his seat belt.
Looking around, surprised at his location, I don’t move at first. “Really? We’re eating at a tourist attraction? The pier?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to seem predictable, now would I? It’s no fun when you know what I’m about to do.”
True.
Fine. I guess I can play his game.
“Lead on then, Mr. Crown. Our lunch awaits.”
.