She was scaring me, I will admit. I gave an apologetic smile and quickly exited. Randall was right behind me, jumping loudly when the door slammed.
“She, ah… hasn’t taken her meds,” I apologized.
He just nodded, risking a glance back.
Gladis wasn’t peeping through the windows, which meant she was probably finishing off the champagne.
It wasn’t until we were on the road that he ventured to speak. “You live in a really nice place.”
“Oh, thanks. I rent it from Gladis. It’s a pool house.”
“Nice pool house. Gladis must be a millionaire.”
I shrugged. “So it would seem. She is a really nice lady. I think she’s a little lonely and bored in her old age. I've become her best buddy. I don’t mind, though, she is a cool old broad!”
I loved calling her an old broad. One, because it made her seem hip. Two because she huffed at me every time. One time she even threw a pillow. Funny stuff.
“I don’t know if I would be comfortable in all that,” Randall admonished.
“All what?”
“Money. Too much. It would corrupt the soul.”
“Oh. I’ve never thought of that angle. It really isn’t like that with Gladis. She has money, but she values life and friends. Money just makes her life easier, and she shares that with me and whoever else is around. No soul corruption that I know of.”
“It is just a matter of time.”
Since we were talking about an old woman that’d had money her whole life…I opted to move on. The debate wasn’t worth having.
“Where are we going tonight?” I asked with a fresh-eyed, chipper tone.
“Well, we are almost there. What did you want to do after dinner?”
“How about a few drinks or dancing or something? Candace and Ty are out tonight. We can meet up with them?”
“Maybe. That sounds pretty good. Here we are.”
We were pulling into a Chili’s parking lot. I couldn’t help my look of disbelief. But really, Chili’s? I was dressed to impress, more formal than casual, and were are hitting Chili’s? Was he punishing me for living near money?
As if he heard my complaints, he said, “This is one of my favorite places. I wanted to share it with you. This one is a little more upscale as far as Chili’s goes, so I thought it would work. If you don’t like it here we can go elsewhere. Outback or something.”
“Oh no. This is fine.” I smiled. How can you say no when it is preceded with a speech like that.
The devil side of me: His favorite place? Does he have no taste?
The angel side: Don’t judge! He is a nice guy. Not everyone is lucky enough to live in LA with the infinite choices of good cuisine.
We sat down in a booth in a corner of the restaurant. It did seem better than other Chili’s I had been in, but I didn’t know if that was because I hadn’t been to one since I was a kid, or this restaurant was making a valiant effort to improve their image and clientele. Unfortunately, the menu was the same. Standard fare.
We ordered food accompanied by large beers each. Then the small talk started.
“So…where did you grow up?” I began.
“I didn’t really grow up anywhere in particular. Or maybe I just grew up everywhere. I was an army brat, so I moved around a lot.”
“Did you like moving around?”
“Well, I didn’t really have a choice, so I never thought about it in terms of like or dislike. It was hard most of the time. I would make friends in a new school then have to move. I have always been a little shy, so it takes me a little while to make friends. Then, when I finally did, I would have to move.”
“What parts of the country did you live in?”
“Well, I was born in Florida. I lived there until I was five…or six. I don’t remember much of it. Then I went to Virginia for a while, then off to North Carolina, then to Hawaii for a while—“
“Hawaii? Nice!”
“Yeah, Hawaii was actually where some of my best memories came from. I was thirteen and wasn’t watched too closely because I had three younger sisters, so I went off and explored a lot. I surfed and fished and went boating with the locals. It was pretty cool actually. Short lived, though. We were only there about a year and a half, and then we went back to Virginia.”
“When did you move out here?”
“I was out at eighteen. My family was moving yet again, and I just jumped ship. I finished up High School and headed to college here in Texas. Been here ever since.”
“And you are…”
“The sexiest man alive?”
I laughed. “Yes, that is what I was saying, exactly. Uh, you are how old…?”
He laughed with me. “I am thirty on the nose.”
I nodded. Five year age gap was nothing.
We sat in silence for a second as our beers arrived and we each took a sip. Then the conversation lulled, as it usually did with first dates. The problem was, he seemed content by that fact, while my forehead was beading in sweat from the awkwardness.
“Well, I’ll just…ah, go power my nose.”
He looked at my nose and frowned.
“It means use the ladies room…”
Dawning. He nodded and reached for his beer.
All right then. I made a graceful exit, a graceful, half sexy saunter down the aisle, then ducked into the kitchen. A male cook looked up from his steaming pot, and smiled.
“Oh! Sorry!”
I had an extremely embarrassing walk to the other side of the restaurant where the restrooms were. Randall watched me the whole way, a small grin fixed on his face.
He obviously knew the layout of the restaurant.
The food was served when my stalling restroom trip was completed.
I washed most the meal down with artfully placed sips of beer to cover the halting conversation. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was shy. He was happy enough not talking. Which he proved.
When the food was gone, so was my way to stay busy. We were forced to resume small talk.
Thankfully, he started this time. “You come from L.A., huh? Is there much difference to here?”
I smiled. “Yes. There is a lot of difference. A lot of difference. The whole mentality is different.”
“Yeah, people here tend to think westerners are long-haired hippies.” He smiled warmly. “Well, I shouldn’t make that statement so generic. A lot of people in the bigger cities and most people in Austin don’t share that view exactly. But generally speaking, y’all are long haired hippies.”
“And Texans, what, like their women with a butch haircut?”
He put up his hands in surrender. “Just saying!”
My turn for topic. “So what do you do for fun?”
“Oh, I play role-playing games mostly.” To my blank look, he elaborated. “Online games. I play with people from around the world.”
“Oh wow, that sounds cool.”
“Yeah, I don’t go out much. It’s comfortable at home.”
“Oh, uh huh.”
His turn for topic. “You?”
Cheater.
“Well, right now, I am just kind of hanging with my landlady. We have drinks and dinner most nights. All my good friends were left behind, and my new friend Candace—you know her—well, she met this guy Ty, and they are attached at the hip!”
He reached smoothly for the bill as it showed up, nodding all the while. He might not be a talker, but at least he listened. That was nice.
Out in his car it was decision time.
“So, where to?” I asked.
He shrugged. Not planning to choose.
“This is your town, what do you think?” I prodded.
He was looking at my lips. He leaned in slightly. Going in for a kiss, I’d bet my life on it. It was our first date, dinner had been conversationally tough, and he was giving me a good-night kiss in the middle of the date. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like this was slightly jumping the gun.
I took out m
y cell phone. “How about we meet up with Candace and Ty? Have a few drinks? That might be fun. Get a little dancing in?”
He backed off, getting the hint. Or maybe getting knocked out of the mood. Slowly he nodded and turned toward the steering wheel. “That could work.”
I could tell he wasn’t enthused about it, but he was playing it cool. I was relieved because the atmosphere in the car was getting too intense. I was starting to get nervous, memories uncomfortably looming in my thoughts, and needed to keep things light. At least until I got to know him.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, looking concerned. Probably reading the tight expression.
I smiled hesitantly. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I am. I just had kind of a crazy experience a couple weeks ago and I am still working through it. Nothing to do with you.”
“I heard about that. Well, the generalities…”
“Oh, yeah. Well, anyway, um, let’s hit Froggy's, okay? Candace just text.”
His eyes lingered on mine, wanting the full story, but thankfully, mercilessly, let it go.
We pulled up to an expansive parking lot a quarter full. Granted, it was early, and the parking lot was beyond enormous, but with the size of the building, it seemed like there should’ve been more people.
Randall pulled into a space, put the car in park, and gulped. “We’re here.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fun.”
Before I knew it he leaned in to kiss me. My heart pounded from the suddenness of it, but his lips were smooth and soft and most of all, non-threatening. I let the touch of our lips linger, until he tried to heighten the contact. Without finesse, and with his tongue trying to get into my mouth, it was time to back-the-fuck-off.
So I did.
“Okay,” he said, pleased with the outcome.
I almost felt like being that kid that makes a huge show of wiping her mouth with her arm and saying, “Yech!”
As we walked to the front door, he asked, “How did you like the meal?”
“It wasn’t bad. Chili’s is usually about the same anywhere you go.”
“True. That’s what I like about it. I moved around so much that nothing really seemed constant. The one thing that was always the same was Chili’s. That Chili’s burger, to be precise. I kind of latched onto it, I guess. I’m sure it isn’t the best food out there, but it’s comfort food for me, so I like it.”
Ah. It was sentimental. He was sentimental. That was sweet. My outlook changed. Not enough to dive at him with my mouth open, but I’d give him more leeway when he tried again. Probably.
As we walked under the green, fluorescent frog that could give Vegas a run for its money, I saw the red carpet leading to a bouncer. There was already a line, but Candace said there was a list, and we were on it. I went straight to the front.
“This is kind of a big crowd,” Randall muttered uncomfortably.
“Randall, love, we are on the list. We don’t worry about crowds!”
This was going to my head a little, I’ll admit, but I totally looked better than the other girls in line!
The giant bouncer looked up as I planted my strappy sandaled heels in front of him. My smile was sexy, my look was perfect, and my hip was thrown. I was ready for the club.
“There’s a line," he snarled. The man was big, in charge, been doing this a while based on his tone, and used to girls approaching to skirt the line. But as Ty and crew would say, “This wasn’t my first rodeo!” I knew I didn’t need to wait. And I didn’t plan to.
“We should be on the list. Jessica Brodie…” I flashed him my sexy, smoldering smile, just in case Candace was mistaken.
All business, he scanned his slip of paper, then nodded. Two wristbands were procured and fastened to our outstretched wrists. Without a word, Mr. Macho turned in his cheap suit and opened the door for us. Enter.
“Well, he thought he was holier-than-thou, huh?” Randall muttered, slinking in behind me.
“That’s just how it’s done. His first line of defense is intimidation. It means less work in the long run.”
After the narrow tunnel of doorway, in which we flashed our right to drink in the form of a license, there was a small entryway that opened out into an area with a bar on the right and some tall tables to the left. There was a wide berth directly through the middle for those not planning to stop at the bar.
I took a moment to get my bearings. It was always an important step while still sober. After the drinks were flowing and strangers became long-time friends, you ended up in random spots that you then had to navigate out of. Already having the layout lodged in your sober brain, which I always managed to call up somehow, was a time saver.
After I was pretty set, we moved on, my eyes always roaming so I could assess the digs. The bar area looked like a Las Vegas lounge in the 1970’s, with browns and oranges and retro decorations—and I didn’t mean retro as in, old style but new stuff and super hip—the place was in bad need of renovation. The ceiling was low, the tables dingy, and the bar needed to be re-lacquered. Still, it had alcohol behind it, so I figured we would stop for a beer so we didn’t look stupid wandering around looking for Candace without a prop. We might as well wander through screaming that we were lost!
“Let’s get a beer!” I yelled over the noise and distant music to my date, who was hunched and sunken, imploding.
“What?” he shouted back, looking at the bar and its patrons like they had just landed from another planet.
I mimed beer by bringing an imaginary bottle to my mouth. His eyes dipped to my mouth and stayed, losing interest in what I was saying. To prevent another attempted kiss, I leaned in quickly and shouted, “What do you want?”
He shrugged and stepped closer, misinterpreting my lean. I darted off to the bar and hailed the bartender with my cle**age—it was faster to wave the chest than the arm. His body appeared a second later, his chest skimming my side. I took that as a cue to text Candace. This guy’s dive into intimacy was freaking me out, making me constantly break out in sweats. I wasn’t ready for it. I needed a slow ascent. I needed time to get to know him, to trust him. My mind kept flashing back to unwanted hands between my…
“Let’s go!” I shouted, turning from the bar abruptly with beers in hand and a large tip left behind.
Through the rabbit hole of the bar, the place opened up into a freaking gi-normous dance club! Holy hell there was a lot of room. It must have been as big as an empty warehouse! To the front was a long stage atop a shiny, empty dance floor. Other than that, if they weren’t aisles, it was a sea of round tables and chairs, booths to the back and around the sides.
“Does this place get busy enough to fill this place?” I asked in a moderated tone. Randall shrugged.
The DJ was just setting up, which meant some random, and fairly quiet, country music was playing in the background. There was only a smattering of people so far, which would’ve filled an L.A. club half-full.
Land was cheap here in Texas. Go big or go home. I was standing in proof.
“Well, their air conditioning bill must be enormous!” I said noncommittally as I turned to the back wall and looked at my phone. “She said she was in the back…”
The back tables were all bare. There wasn’t even a kissing couple. I glanced at my phone again, sidestepping a leaning Randall.
“Oh, upstairs in the back.” Our heads started swiveling on our necks like fools. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid.
Randall threw up a finger and pointed with his whole arm. I kept a groan at bay as I reached out and slammed his arm down to his side while following the initial point.
“We don’t want everyone knowing we don’t know where we’re going,” I said quietly, noticing a steep stairwell both to the right and left of the stage. It led to an open upper level that wound around the outside of the square building.
So, in essence, the whole building was a big box. The area I was standing in was a hollow to that box, reach
ing up to the top of the structure. Then the second floor sat over the first around the perimeter, reaching back to the outer walls. The place was even bigger than what I first thought.
“Is there, like, a code to going to one of these places, or something?” Randall said in a huff.
“Is there a code to your online games? Rules?”
“That is a game.”
“So is this, doll.”
I started toward the left with purpose, choosing that stairwell for no reason whatsoever, but it looked like I had a reason. That was the only important thing. Then, as I approached the bottom, Randall got his wish for contact. They were much too steep for me to clamber up gracefully in the four-inch heels I’d chosen.
I reached out my hand.
He stared at it.
“Randall, can you escort a lady up?”
“Oh, yeah, of course!”
He grabbed my hand with his.
“No, like this.” I positioned his arm like the guys had at the rodeo. “It is a firmer base. Otherwise it looks like you are leading an old woman.”
Randall nodded, focusing much too intently on getting it right. I needed to figure out how to turn this first date around. It was going down the crap shoot much too fast. Faster than normal for me, which was saying something.
The brief stint in acting class, where we had to walk up and down stairs without looking at our feet, really paid off in these situations. I kept my head up and my focus off my steps as we made our way up the wide, carpeted staircase. Once at the top, we wound around to the side, passing a smaller bar and stopping at a barrel chested man in his forties with a no-nonsense face.
“Jessica Brodie and guest,” I announced, looking around like I was checking out the place, even though all I could really see were shadowed areas, a banister, and a whole lot of empty space.
“Yeah, c’mon.” He tossed the list to the side, took a mental picture of my face, of Randall’s face, then unhooked the red rope and waved us through.
“Oh my God, Randall—VIP area! This so rocks!” I squeezed his arm happily.
“Uh, yeah.”
Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 Page 15
