“Nope. He’s probably out the back door already.”
“I’ve never actually run off a guy on the first date before. What an achievement.”
“Don’t.” Jimmy looked up from the menu, pinning me with his eyes. “It’s Ben’s loss. You’re great.”
My mind reeled and my insides turned to mush. “No, you see? This is the problem with you. For every thoughtless assholish move you make, you then turn around and do or say something wonderful it just makes everything all right. I can never find my balance because I never know what’s going to come next. You’re impossible.”
He gave me a long look. “You finished?”
“Yes.”
He stood and returned his pilfered chair to a nearby table. The he sat in the one the bass player had so recently vacated. “I’m thinking the sugarcane prawn rolls, ginger chicken, BBQ pork buns, and a couple of the vegetable dishes. Sound good?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t know that you and Ben would be good together after all. Not sure what I was thinking there.” He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the failure. But then again, deep down where it mattered, neither was I. A big meh now sat where any upset regarding the situation should have been. With Jimmy sitting opposite me, watching me, happy hormones flooded my brain proving yet again just what an idiot I was when it came to him.
“Oh, well. It wouldn’t have gone any better if I’d picked someone,” I said with a smile. “I have the worst taste in men.”
He said nothing.
“Sorry. No offense meant.”
“None taken.”
“My collection of past boyfriends is not something to be proud of.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. I have in my time dated a cheater, a thief, a repressed homosexual, a foot fetishist, and various men who just wanted a chance to meet my sister.”
“Why’s the foot fetishist so bad?”
“Always with the strappy high heels. My toes were killing me.”
“Ah.”
“Anyway, this is no longer a date.” I needed to say it out loud, just put it out there for the universe to hear. Let’s not explore why.
“No, of course not,” he agreed immediately with great conviction. It only stung a little. “It’s a business meeting between me and my assistant. I’m paying, order whatever you want.”
I swallowed a mouthful of soda water. “Thank you. Did I damage your suit?”
“No, just needs cleaning. I’m pretty sure you bruised me though.”
“You bruised my toes,” I said.
“We’re even then.”
I set aside the menu and slumped back in my seat while Jimmy ordered dinner. Poor, Ben. Also, how embarrassing, I hope he didn’t tell the others. Though they all knew we’d been planning on going out so the story was bound to get around. They were going to laugh their collective asses off. Mal in particular would never let me live it one down. Sometimes, having friends was a pain in the butt.
It was nothing less than the truth. They were important to me. Somehow, despite my best intentions to keep to myself, I’d failed miserably. For the first time in a long time I did have people I thought of as friends. People who came over to the house and hung out. People who invited me to things and genuinely wanted me to be there. As crap as I’d been at accepting invitations.
It was nice.
Before the waiter could slip away, I handed him my untouched gin. “I’m finished with that. Can you take it, please? Thank you.”
Jimmy watched in his usual blasé manner, completely unruffled. “You could have drunk it. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I could have,” I said. “But it wouldn’t have felt right. And while it’s great that you have opinions on everything I think, wear, and do, I’m not going do something that doesn’t feel right just to please you, Jimmy.”
“You’re not drinking it because of me, so that actually makes no sense.”
I shrugged, gave him a half-hearted smile. “Sometimes things that make the least sense are the most true. Such is the mystery of life.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, then looked down at his menu shaking his head. “You got that out of a fortune cookie, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
CHAPTER NINE
“You never said your sister was getting married soon.”
“What are you doing in here and how do you know about that?” I asked, carefully applying a last coat of mascara. Hair done, heels and dress on, round two of dating other people was a go. Hopefully, with more success tonight because it could hardly be with less. Jimmy and I needed to have a stern talk about boundaries with possible butt kicking involved.
Our day had been normal mixed with bizarre on account of the sushi chef showing up to give me lessons before lunch. Another little surprise from Jimmy to cover point four on the list. It’d been fun, though I doubted I’d be moving into the hospitality and catering industries anytime soon. Jimmy had taken one look at my attempts at sashimi and announced he’d be having a protein shake for lunch. Mr. Nakimura had just given me a sad sigh. To be honest, the disappointment hadn’t hit too hard, raw fish really wasn’t my thing.
But back to Jimmy’s latest bedroom invasion.
“This got mixed in with my stuff.” He threw the glossy ivory invite onto my bathroom counter. Without my glasses on, he was just a sexy smudge in the mirror. “You dressed up this time.”
He bent over, apparently checking out my legs or the knee-length hem of my skirt. Whatever. I refused to be lead astray by his false attentions. He wasn’t interested in me, not in any way that counted toward my vagina or my heart getting what they wanted.
“Nice,” he said. “Red looks good on you.”
“Thanks. Now get out.”
“Put these on. You need to see something.”
My glasses came at me. Carefully, he positioned them on my nose. I had my usual reaction to seeing him, having him standing so close. A certain lightness in my head, fluttery feelings in my chest and loins, that sort of thing. I wasn’t proud, but the warmth and pull of his body was undeniable to my girl parts. Then, from behind his back he produced a bouquet of flowers, arranged in a glass vase.
Oh my god.
“You bought me dahlias?” Color me stunned. My heart gave a hopeful overexcited throb. “They’re beautiful.”
He snorted. “Course I didn’t buy you fucking flowers. Read the card.”
“‘Sorry about taking off. Let’s just be friends. Ben.’” I laughed at me, him, and the universe. It seemed the best possible response. “You told him to send me these, didn’t you?”
“Hmm,” he uttered cryptically. Then he placed them on the counter while I put the final fix on my attempt at putting my hair in a bun. He stood there and stared which was not helpful for the pre-date jitters. I did my best to ignore him. Hard given the way he watched me, his gaze doing a slow circuit of my body, no curve left unnoticed. The man was the king of mixed messages. I didn’t know whether to kick him or jump him, this was ridiculous. All of a sudden, balancing in my high heels seemed a test of great dexterity and conviction. The man made me quiver.
“Jimmy?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re staring.”
He met my eyes, blinked. “How much time you going to need off for the wedding?”
“None,” I said, searching his face for some sign, some acknowledgement of what he’d been doing. But he just gave me the scrunched-up face of disapproval, brows tight and eyes narrowed.
No, come on. He had to know he’d been looking me over like a sex thing. I mean, like I was a person he wanted to have sex with.
Yes.
God damn it, my heart and hormones. Both were being stressed right the fuck out.
“I’m not going,” I said, concentrating on re-arranging the clutter on the counter. If I could just have a moment to pull my shit together I’d be fine.
“Why not?”
“Next few months before the tour are going to be out. I’m too busy. You can’t possibly do without me here.”