Simon: Rockstar Romance (The ProVokaTiv Series Book 3)

by Nelson, Cara

  Despite not having committed to the idea verbally yet, I was pretty much invested in it logically. It made sense and was a stellar move for Blaze Line’s kick-off. Ideal exposure, really. Maybe whatever had gotten to her last night was over and done with—I hoped. Only one way to find out.

  “Jessie, good morning, how are you? Simon here. It’s 8 AM, not too early, I hope.”

  “Hey Simon, no, it’s not too early,” she said.

  I paused, wanting to assess her tone. It seemed fine.

  “Hello,” she said. “You still there?”

  “Sorry about that, yeah, I’m here. I wanted to see if you’re free this morning?” I asked.

  “I’m actually on my way out to Lake Calhoun for a run. I can meet you later if you want, say 11:00.”

  “Are you up to having me join you for your run? A bit of exercise would do me good and I could check off one of the 10,000 lakes this blustery state is known for.”

  “I…uh…sure,” she said.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” I said. “I can only go about ten miles max.”

  “Actually, I’d love to have you join me for a run. I think it would be absolutely great,” she said.

  “Why do I feel like you’re smiling in a wicked way? Not trying to knock me off and toss me into the lake, are you?”

  “No, do you know how to get there?” Jessie asked.

  “I can figure it out,” I said.

  “I’ll just come get you. It’ll be easier, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Fifteen minutes?” she asked.

  “No problem. I’ll just go down to the sidewalk so you don’t have to find a place to park.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I watched her Jetta pull up. Jessie waved and I ran to the road and got in quickly, waving at the horns protesting the disturbance in their movement.

  “Where’s that Minnesota nice I heard about?” I asked, laughing.

  “Yeah, not there when it comes to driving,” Jessie replied.

  “Do you honk your horn like that?”

  “No, not really. I’d rather sing or think about whatever I have going on. That just gets me edgy.”

  “Makes sense. Do you sing good?”

  “I’m not tone deaf, but I definitely don’t have skills.”

  “Yeah, me either, much. I can do the small back-up bits, but I like leaving the main part of the vocals to Gauge and Hunter.”

  “How far do you usually run?”

  “The lake is a 3.1 mile loop, so it’s more like a sprint,” she said, giving me a little smile and a sideways glance.

  “Yeah, right. No one can sprint pace 3.1 miles, Jess.”

  “Maybe you can’t, but I can.” She gave a nonchalant shrug. She was bating me. She had to be.

  “Up for the challenge?” I asked.

  “What should we wager?”

  “Whatever you feel you can lose,” I answered with borderline arrogance; it was playful, but it was also kind of true.

  “Okay, well, I don’t have much money. Let’s see…I know, how about bragging rights? Everyone loves those, especially a business guy like you.”

  “Interesting offer, Ms. Martineau. Bragging rights reference success, which I definitely like. It doesn’t sound like something a humanitarian would really do, though.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you have us humanitarians pegged at all,” she said to me.

  I could not disagree with that. Believe me, I felt compelled to figure out she meshed her heart of gold with the practical common sense and brain smarts that you needed for success. I had planned on asking about it last night, but that went awry fast.

  We got to the parking lot and the first thing I admired was the way Jessie looked. I’d loved that she had no make-up on when she picked me up, her hair piled up on her head in a kind of wild way, but her ¾ length spandex pants made her ass look incredible. I couldn’t help but notice and I had to focus so I didn’t stare.

  I looked around at the non-human scenery, admiring the area quite a bit. Big trees, a nice path, a beautiful lake, and nice Victorian style homes meshed with modern ones. “This is a place I could see myself living,” I said. I looked at Jessie and she was smiling at me, but her nose was wrinkled quite a bit. It made me feel like she thought I couldn’t handle it. Who couldn’t handle Minnesota, really? Well, maybe in the winter it would be tough.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jessie finally said. “I love all the different styles of architecture on the homes and the lay-out of the walking paths around the lake. It’s one of my most favorite areas.”

  “What’s that over there?” I asked.

  She glanced over and said, “Oh, that’s Calhoun Beach Club. It’s a fitness club, a really nice fitness club.”

  “Great location,” I said.

  “Which is paid for with big prices,” she said.

  I looked at her. I’ll admit, she threw me off because it had been a long time since I’d been around someone who was always so money conscious. I got it and I respected it, but I had a feeling that Jessie was that type of person you heard about that would give her last five dollars to a homeless guy for dinner even if she had nothing in her own fridge.

  “There’s some place for everyone, right?” I commented.

  “Yup, and right now, Simon Jefferson, your place is behind me. Can your ego handle being beaten by a girl?”

  “Can yours handle losing after you trash talk?” I countered.

  We stretched for a few minutes and then Jessie quickly said, “3,2,1, let’s go.” She took off and I took off after her.

  I stayed behind her intentionally, playing around with her and building up false confidence. As we approached the one mile marker I was shocked to see that she was still keeping a strong pace and that’s when I knew I had to speed up. I lengthened my stride and got up right next to her. “You’re a strong runner.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She sped up a bit more but I kept pace with her, talking the entire time and having a lot of fun. It did occur to me that if she was talking so casually, not winded at all, that she wasn’t going all out. Me? I was starting to get winded, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t recall ever having this type of competition with someone and it was quite invigorating.

  “So, did you get on board with the humanitarian thing when Ebola hit the world headlines?” I asked.

  “I’d been focused on it before it was so well known, but that was because I was looking for a cause that I could help that also worked with my field of study. It’s harder to find than you may think. Everyone is all about saving the rainforest and things like that, which is great, but so many of them aggrandize that. Which is why that isn’t for me. I don’t want to be all talk, I want to be action.”

  “Which is why you’ve gone through such great efforts with all of this, not only to prove someone wrong, but to prove what’s so right about your idea, too.” She nodded. I added, “I’m assuming.”

  “Exactly, but it’s not safe to assume,” she said to me.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” she said and then she bolted off, running as fast as if she’d just started the run.

  Okay, I’ll admit that I didn’t have that type of energy in me, but I wasn’t one to surrender to the thought of loss so I dug deep and started to find that energy source that never revealed itself until absolutely necessary.

  I was about three strides behind Jessie, but I couldn’t get next to her. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I thought about fighting a bit unfairly for a second, feigning an injury or something else to make her slow down and turn around so I could catch up. But no, I couldn’t do that with her regardless of how appealing it sounded at that moment.

  With labored breath, I kept going as fast as I could, each step I took sounded like it was saying, “Bragging rights…bragging rights.”

  I glanced up at the marker sign that showed I still had about a half mile left and then looked ahead to Jessie, who’d slowed down some
but not as much as me. That’s when I realized that there was one benefit to currently being in second place—looking at Jessie’s ass. She had an incredible body, athletic and lean. Despite her busy schedule she obviously fit in time to exercise. Stress reducer, that’s what I was guessing.

  “Almost there. I can taste victory,” Jessie called out, barely turning her head.

  “Don’t count on it until you cross that finish line,” I shouted.

  Yes! With a second burst of energy, I edged closer and closer to Jessie, to the spot I recognized as where our run began. Other people were on the path, running much more leisurely and Jessie wove around them with me hot on her heels. Finally, I was next to her. I looked at her. She wasn’t looking at me, though, she was focused straight ahead and her strides suddenly became longer, almost like she had elastic legs, and she turned into sprinter girl.

  Wow! I had about twenty feet to change this around and I gave it my all, but as I crossed the finish line I realized that the great butt I’d been just behind on most of the run was still ahead of me.

  “Yes!” Jessie shouted as she raised her arms in victory, slowing down her pace and gradually coming to a stop.

  When I caught up to her, she started walking again, and I said, “It was all luck. You know the course better than me.”

  “That is the lamest excuse ever,” she said, laughing at me through a winded voice.

  “Okay, get it over with,” I huffed between breaths.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The bragging thing. Come on, I can take it.”

  “You can take it later. I’m saving it for social media, my friend. Can’t wait.”

  “We didn’t say anything about that!” I protested.

  “Did you think I was going to brag to the pillows in my apartment? Buck up!”

  “Oh, I see how you play. Pretty crafty. Make me think you’re all sweet and then you show that devious side. The devil dressed like an angel.”

  We both started laughing and I felt great. It was an excellent morning. “So, are we good?” I asked suddenly. I just had to find out.

  “Of course,” Jessie said to me. “You know, how about coming over to my humble little apartment for dinner tonight. It’s about half the size of your hotel room. What do you think?”

  “What about your roommates?”

  “We could go out to eat if you preferred, Simon. Or if you have other plans…”

  I smiled and put my hand up. “No, it’s great. I was just curious, that’s all. Dinner at your place sounds nice. Thanks for the invitation,” I said.

  “Don’t worry; I promise not to bite you or hound you. I probably should mention that I’m not the best cook in the world. If you want true gourmet, you’re not going to find it,” Jessie said, laughing.

  “Well, I didn’t grow up on gourmet and contrary to what you may believe to be true, meals on the road are mostly processed junk food and a great majority of the ones I eat at home come to me in a take-out box. So, a homemade meal, even if it’s not gourmet, is a pretty sweet deal.”

  Jessie’s head was tilted slightly and she was smiling at me. I would have given anything to know what she was thinking, but I knew women well enough to know that she wouldn’t have told me, anyway.

  We walked to her car and I pulled out my phone. “What’s your address?”

  She told me and after I typed it in, she pulled out her phone. “Picture.”

  I went next to her and smiled as she extended her arm out, getting us both in there. She showed me, typed something in secretively, and then pressed send, posting it to her Instagram. Then we got into the car.

  A talk about music ensued all the way back to the hotel, only interrupted by the dings from alerts she was getting on her picture.

  “What are all those messages saying?” I asked. I wanted to grab that phone and look so bad. Completely inappropriate!

  “Do some research and find out,” Jessie said playfully.

  Before long, I was on the sidewalk watching her drive off and already looking forward to dinner at her apartment that night.

  Chapter Nine:

  Underneath it All

  The offer for dinner had flowed so easily from my lips after the fun running adventure with Simon, but now that the time was almost near, I was freaking out. Trying to cook, clean, and make sure I didn’t look like a mad hatter wasn’t all that easy. I was just so nervous.

  Why? For many reasons. If I couldn’t get a commitment from him tonight about the project I would have to bust it into high gear and create an updated plan—like yesterday! That was a harsh reality, but I was also realizing how drawn to Simon I was. It wasn’t convenient, but it was the truth. Handling that might be tough for me because my emotions were kind of like an open book.

  I heard a door close outside and I glanced down out of my apartment window and saw the top of Simon’s head. His black hair looked so shiny and soft. It wasn’t all gelled up, either, which made me want to touch it. I smiled as I thought about how he’d react to that.

  My palms started to sweat and I looked down at them, shaking my head. Relax, I thought. How embarrassing would that be to go and shake Simon’s hand if mine was all sweaty. Nasty! Then again, maybe he’d hug me or kiss my cheek. What was the protocol? I had no idea, but all I did realize was that I was driving myself bonkers with speculation. It was quite ridiculous, actually.

  I stared at the door, waiting for the knock. Simon was in the house, baby. Finally it came. A rhythmic wrapping sound, three knocks that were evenly spaced and of the same force. He was even a perfectionist in his door knocking. Who would have figured!

  Breathing in, I opened the door. “Simon, hi, come on in.”

  “How’d you know it was me?” he asked.

  I had an instant debate. Say I was watching him out the window or not. I went with not. “Well, those rhythmic knocks on the door could only mean one thing—drummer.”

  It was hard to say for certain, but I thought I saw a glimmer of coyness in his eyes. He seemed all business but after our run I knew he had a bit of a sarcastic smart ass to him that most people didn’t expect at first. Maybe once they got to know him.

  “It smells great in here,” Simon said. I watched him looking around casually. He was alert, that one, hawk-eyes.

  “Thanks, hopefully you like it. Stuffed peppers and bread, banana crème pie for desert.”

  “Impressive. You made a banana crème pie?” Simon asked me.

  “Uh, no. I did buy that one, oh, and the bread, but the stuffed peppers, they’re all me.”

  I realized that we were still standing by my door. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’m going to walk the twenty feet to my kitchen and check things out. I know you don’t drink. Did you want some water, milk, pop?”

  “Coke if you have it,” Simon said. “Otherwise, water.”

  “Coke it is.”

  “You know I don’t mind if you have alcohol. Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy something if you want it.”

  “No, water is fine with me,” I said. I wasn’t about to confess that I’d had two large glasses of white wine as I was preparing for the night. Nerve tonic—that’s what I called it. He didn’t need to know that, though. I could only imagine what he’d think.

  *****

  Twenty minutes later, I was serving dinner at the small round table in the corner of my apartment. Our conversation was lighthearted and I had to include a few jabs about the race earlier…just because. I was impressed that Simon was even a good sport about my second picture I took of us, captioned: Feeding the loser!

  “You’ve confirmed it,” Simon said.

  “What?” I asked, completely clueless.

  “Humanitarians are not all heart.”

  We laughed and I caught Simon’s gaze. He kept glancing over at the wall where I’d hung bunches of photos. It was like he was curious, but refused to admit it. “Those are friends and family throughout the years,” I said.

 
“They’re clearly very important to you,” Simon replied.

  “Aren’t they to everyone?” At least I thought everyone cared about those things quite a bit.

  “Some more than others,” he said thoughtfully.

  “How about you?” I asked.

  “Well, my family is important, but I don’t really relate to them anymore.”

  My heart did a kerplunk in my stomach. As I watched, Simon’s blue eyes developed a storm in them. I had no idea what, but something about his family made him a bit sad, which made me feel horrible. “Do they have a hard time with your fame or something?”

  “No, they’re fine with it.”

  “Oh,” I said. His mood was still slightly somber. “Any plans to see them soon?”

  “My brother Daniel will be on leave from the Air Force and we’ll be hooking up for my grandmother’s birthday party. That should be okay.”

  “Is he older or younger?” I asked. I leaned forward just a bit and realized that I had my fork stabbed into my food, but was not lifting it to my mouth. Why?

  “Younger by two years.” I watched Simon as he took a bite of his food and briefly got distracted, wanting to see some signs that he liked it. He didn’t wince so that was a good thing.

  “I have a younger sister, too. Love her to death but she was a pain in the butt growing up. Was your brother like that?” I suddenly felt anxious, a bit desperate for a conversation, and felt like my subject matter was about as boring as bringing up the weather on a first date. Wait—this wasn’t a date. Had to keep pounding that into my head. It was just a business meeting. A last chance to convince him to commit to my plan.

  “Did you ever lose her?” Simon asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  I looked at him, not wanting to show my shock at the odd question, but from his expression I could see that I had. Okay Jessie, pick your jaw up and talk, I thought. “Sorry, did you say lose her?”

  “Yes.” Now Simon had his fork down, his fist clenched on the table, and he glanced at me over the rim of his can of Coke as he took a drink.