by Amy Brent
“Not execute it. Paint me the perfect date, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Are you trying to redeem yourself or something?” I asked.
“Think of it as a second first impression.”
Honestly? It sounded kind of nice. After all the jerks I’d met and the bullshit I went through in high school, it would be nice to actually get the date I wanted. And it was one date, right? Mason Baker surely didn’t do the iconic third date.
Hell, we did on the first date what usually waits until the third date.
“Okay,” I said. “A second date, it is.”
“So, talk to me. About your perfect first date.”
“No, no, no, no. I’m agreeing to this under one solid principle,” I said.
“Name it, beautiful.”
“Stop fucking calling my phone. No phone calls until the day before the date to solidify things, if you need to.”
“I can do that,” he said. “How do you feel about Monday night?”
I see how he wiggled around that principle. That cheeky little bastard.
“Monday night sounds fine. You can pick me up at my place around the same time as our last date.”
“All right. So, what constitutes your perfect first date?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I was very relieved my phone wouldn’t be ringing off the hook anymore, but I had to admit that having his attention was nice. It wasn’t like the first date was terrible. In fact, it had been wonderful. It wasn’t without its awkward and guarded moments, but welcome to the world of first dates. That’s how that shit went. He had been on my mind, but not enough to blow up his fucking phone.
However, I was intrigued by this new concept of a second date.
“I want you to take me on a cruise on the countryside in your convertible. Top down so the wind can blow through my hair.”
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“I want you to take me to Wylie. It’s north of Dallas, sandwiched between two beautiful lakes. Make a picnic basket so we can eat in your car. We’re going to find ourselves a remote location right on the edge of the lake so we can watch the stars reflect in the still lake waters, where we eat and actually open up about ourselves.”
“Are you holding me to that or yourself to that as well?” he asked.
“Any in-depth answer you give, I’ll give an equal in-depth answer in return,” he said.
“And who is the judge of these answers?”
“I am,” I said. “Afterward, when we’re done eating and talking, we’re going to cruise back to your place with the top of your car up, holding hands.”
“Holding hands.”
“Yep,” I said. “We’ll go back to your place and sit on that same couch we sat on last time, except you’re going to make me a decent cocktail this time instead of crapping out and just opening a bottle of wine.”
“That was expensive wine.”
“Leave it closed for someone else. Cocktails and that couch. What happens from there happens,” I said.
“I think I can do that. See you Monday at seven. And I won’t even call you until I’m there. I take it you want to come out like last time?’”
“Yes. Have the door open and ready for me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
I could feel his grin through the phone, and my spine shivered with anticipation.
“See you then, playboy.”
I hung up the phone and giggled. Holy hell, that man was relentless, and I was excited about the prospect of screwing him again. If there was one thing that man did well, it was fuck. I wasn’t going to tell him that, though. I needed him to think he was still working. Men who thought they were still working for it threw their all into sex.
And that’s what I wanted.
Some fucking good sex like we had last time.
I was a bit nervous again, but this time I was more excited than nervous. I knew exactly what was going to happen, and it was going to be romantic. He thought he was just doing all these things to get me in bed, but I was able to concoct the one date I’d never been privy to.
A simple, romantic, vulnerable evening between two people.
We wouldn’t be under the scrutiny of the press, no one would be trying to take pictures of us, and we could get his fucking wallet out of the way. He thought he could lavish me with expensive things and that would be enough. I wanted to drop that defense and see the person who was behind that wallet of his.
The person he attempted to hide from the world.
I gathered my things and went to meet up with Emma. I promised her we would do dinner tonight, but when I got to the restaurant, she was in a rough mood. I checked to make sure I wasn’t late before I ordered my food and drink, and it took her ten minutes to finally take a deep breath and speak what was on her mind.
“My fucking brother never showed up for dinner the other night,” she said.
“Well, I was about to ask you what was wrong, but there it is,” I said.
“He promised this time. He told me he’d fucking be there, and he stood me up again.”
“You mean the brother that’s been absent from your life for essentially all of it?” I asked.
“Yeah. That one.”
“Why are you even trying? He wasn’t in your life when you were born. You didn’t grow up with him. Sure, you share the same DNA—”
“Half DNA,” she said.
“Whatever. The point is, why are you suddenly reaching out to him now?”
Honestly, I was glad for the diversion. It meant I didn’t have to divulge the fact that I was going out with this guy again. This was exactly the kind of shit she tried to steer me away from, and I knew she would chastise me and say something to make me back out of it. I was actually excited about this date, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. I was ready to see how Mason would interpret what I’d told him I wanted, and I was secretly buzzing with delight in my seat.
“Because he’s family,” she said. “You don’t turn your back on family.”
“Unless they turn their backs on you,” I said.
“Sarah, your situation was different.”
“Not really,” I said. “My dad chose drugs over me, and my mom chose him over me. They abandoned me, so I never went back. I don’t reach out to them. I don’t talk to them. I sure as hell don’t try to schedule dinners with them. Has this mysterious brother given any indication to you that he wants to reconcile or whatever it is you’re trying to do?”
“Half-brother,” she said.
“Whatever, Emma. Answer the question.”
“Why are you being so harsh?” she asked.
“Because you’re my best friend and someone’s pissed you off. That automatically means two things. I’m going to protect you, and I’m going to kill him. Does Amazon have two-day shipping on lye and body bags?”
My question made her chuckle, and that was all I needed.
“There she is,” I said as I reached for her hand. “Emma, look at me.”
Our food was set in front of us as her eyes slowly panned over to see me for the first time since I’d sat down across from her.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I said. “Not by a longshot. Take it as a sign and let him come to you. Trust me, the men that you least expect that treatment from are usually the ones to cave.”
“Uh huh,” she said.
Fuck, I’d said too much.
“It seems you’re talking from experience,” she said, grinning. “Does this have anything to do with the date guy?”
“The date guy,” I said. “Really?”
“Well, I don’t have a name. You gonna give up his name yet?”
“Just a few more days and then maybe,” I said, grinning.
“Sarah? What are you planning?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m not planning anything, yikes. I’m just not ready to say his name yet.”
“Whatever. Just don’t get too attached, though I know you’re not saying anything beca
use you’re going out on a second date with him.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Tomorrow.”
“How the fuck could you possibly know that?”
“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I knew it. I’m your best friend. I know everything. Don’t fucking get attached, Sarah Williams. I’m tired of scraping you off the floor because you pick shitty men,” she said.
“I won’t, all right? Fuck.”
“You better. You’ve been very relaxed these past two days. It looks good on you. And when you are ready to indulge, I want all the sordid details.”
“Trust me,” I said, “when I’m ready to give them, you’re going to die when I tell you who it is.
Chapter 10
Mason
I was leaning against my car right at seven o’clock as I called her on my cell. I let her know I was downstairs before I opened her car door, simply waiting for her to come out. I was excited about this date and about getting a second chance to get her into my pool of women. She came walking out in this dazzling black dress, her heels clicking devilishly down the stairs as her jet-black hair fanned around her shoulders.
She came prepared with sunglasses this time and slid right into my car.
“I enjoy a man who’s on time,” she said.
“Ready for that cruise?” I asked as I slipped into the car.
“Oh, definitely.”
She put her sunglasses on, throwing up a physical wall that followed us all the way to Wylie. I punched in the address of where we were going and hit the highway, allowing the top to come down once we were free of the paparazzi and cameras in downtown Dallas. I saw an easy smile flutter across her face, her hair blowing in all directions as we whizzed down the highway. Her body was so relaxed, so calm.
Much calmer than she had been during our first date.
“Enjoying the ride?” I asked.
“Very much so,” she said.
“I packed us a nice dinner. Made it all myself.”
“Oh, how fancy. I figured you’d have it catered in or something once we got there,” she said, grinning.
“Nope. You asked for a packed picnic, so that’s what I got us. There are grapes, homemade curry chicken salad with cashews, homemade croissant buns, butter, sweet tea, water, homemade roasted red pepper hummus, carrot slices, cherry tomatoes, and homemade chocolate cake for dessert.”
“Did you freshly churn the butter right there in your kitchen?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said, chuckling.
“Ah, such a shame. Better luck next time.”
The grin on her face filled my gut with excitement. She was playful. Sarcastic. Independent. So unlike the women I usually drove around with on my arm. She could meet me, tit for tat, in our verbal sparring matches, and I was actually looking forward to simply sitting with her and talking.
Even though I was worried about the subjects she would want to bring up.
We cruised down the highway for thirty minutes before we entered the Wylie city limits. It was a small town if I’d ever seen one. Quiet houses sat on the main stretch while the laughter of children in the backyards could be heard. My GPS system guided us to the edge of the lake, a hushed and secluded spot right as the sun was beginning to set. The water sparkled with the colors of the sky, reflecting perfectly the scenery around it.
It was like a special effect you’d see in a movie, and I could see the wonder on Sarah’s face as she pulled off her sunglasses.
I reached behind me and pulled out the basket of food. I opened up a sweet tea for her before I grabbed a bottle of water for myself. I still didn’t know how people drank that stuff. Tony was obsessed with it, but I couldn’t get past the sugar content of it.
“Not a sweet tea fan?” she asked.
“Not by a long shot, though Tony loves the stuff.”
“Good man,” she said.
“He is.”
We sat there, drawing out food as we ate in relative silence. Here, I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I didn’t know if she would start asking me questions, or if she expected me to offer up scenarios of my life. If it was the latter, she’d be waiting quite a long time. I didn’t ever talk about myself unless prompted, and even then I was a professional at skirting the shit stuff.
But she seemed content to simply eat and gaze out at the lake, and I was shockingly content at sitting here with her and absorbing her presence.
“Do you ever get angry at your mother?” she asked. “For leaving.”
“I did when I was younger. A lot. I read a lot outside of school, but I was a punk while I was in school.”
“How shocking,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Do you ever get mad at your mother?”
“All the time, even to this day. The anger is what fuels me to always push myself and become more successful. I can stand in front of the mirror and tell myself every morning I did it despite them.”
“My dad’s a good guy. I’m really close to him. I’m not so sure I could imagine not having either of my parents. He was influential in my success.”
“How so? You didn’t really dive into that during the interview.”
“It’s not really something I want the masses to know. I’m assuming we’re doing all this in confidence?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said.
It was the first time she turned her body toward me, and she actually unhooked her seatbelt so she could turn and face me completely.
The way she popped the grapes between her lips was mesmerizing, and I had to peel my eyes away from her lips just to answer her question.
“At first, I thought my idea was stupid. I was ready to abandon it altogether, even before I’d clued Tony into anything. He found my sketches and ideas one day lying around, and he encouraged me to pursue it.”
“He wasn’t hands-on, but he’s the reason you showed it to Tony.”
“Yes. Without him, none of this would’ve existed,” I said.
“He sounds like a good man.”
I could hear the sadness in her voice, and for the first time, I felt like I was seeing the actual Sarah. Not the one she showed to her audience or the one she portrayed on her show, but the scared little girl inside who was fearful of letting any man in, really.
And I couldn’t blame her, after the shit her dad had pulled.
“What happened to your mom after she left?” she asked.
“She found a job. Got remarried. Had a kid. Pretended like we didn’t exist. I never got phone calls from her or birthday cards. I tried calling her on holidays, but she only answered when it was convenient. Then, when I took to social media and started raising that money for the project, she conveniently popped back into my life. Wanted to be a part of it. Go do things with me. And I went and took her to a few things. A couple of shows. Some dinner. All of it I was conveniently expected to pay for.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Shit happens. People come out of the woodworks all the time who you’ve run into once you’re famous.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said.
“Did your parents do that to you when your show began?”
“No. I haven’t talked to them at all since I was put into foster care. But friends from high school did. Added me on social media everywhere and ‘wanted to catch up’. Had some cousins blatantly ask for money. Things like that.”
“Fuck, my aunts and cousins pulled that shit too.”
“It’s like, when I wasn’t shit, you didn’t care about me, and now that I’ve got some money, I’m expected to float you because part of our DNA matches up? Does that mean I have to take care of all the orangutans at the zoo too?”
I threw my head back and laughed. Her honesty and humor were incredibly refreshing. I enjoyed our banter when she was upset, but this type of easy talking with her was really nice.
I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone like this except for Tony.
“Anyway, yeah. I know exactly how that feels,”
I said.
“At least someone does.”
We sat there for a little while longer. Until the stars started to twinkle upon the face of the lake. It was completely still like no life existed underneath the water. It looked like glass you could walk on, and I actually thought about sliding my hand over and taking hers. She said she didn’t want it to happen until we were driving back, but there was something about the way the stars twinkled on top of the lake.
There was something about the unadulterated joy she got out of something so blatantly simple.
But I shook the thought from my head. I needed to stick to what she’d told me, and I knew where our next stop was. I cranked up the car, put the top back down, put our trash in the back of my car, and slowly backed away from the lake. I pulled us out onto the main road going through Wylie before I slipped my hand solidly into hers, and it was the first time I really got a chance to feel the size difference between us. Her entire hand fit into nothing but the palm of mine, which only enhanced her vulnerability in my eyes. I looked over at her, and I could see her mind turning over something behind her eyes.
I laced our fingers together just as she threw a curveball into our plans.
