Six Rules: Book Two in the SIX Series
Page 7
Chapter 11
I woke up around five-thirty and took a quick shower. As I headed out the door a little before six, I noticed a small piece of paper taped to the outside of my door.
Looking forward to dinner tonight. Bring your ugly cat figurine.
I smiled, genuinely grateful that Greyson was a good listener and remembered that I loved sweet little notes like this. We didn’t physically exchange our napkins with our rules written down, so I was happy he apparently remembered them on his own. I headed down to the bakery and Addie arrived a few minutes later as I started pulling out all of the equipment.
On Mondays and Fridays we opened the bakery earlier than usual, hoping to get some of the before-work crowd stopping in for some Danishes and coffee. Traffic was still pretty light, but I hoped by Fall we would be busy enough to open early every weekday. I loved working so early in the morning. That’s when my head felt the clearest and I felt the most productive.
“So, how’d it go with your bossy boyfriend last night?” Addie asked inquisitively. “You met the family, right? Were they normal? Crazy?”
“It actually went pretty well,” I said honestly. “He’s actually starting to grow on me. Maybe this is like, a real thing.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Addie asked, pulling out pastries we made the day before and filling up the glass bakery cases.
“Well, relationships are a lot of work for me. You know that. Trying to get the business up and running and everything, it’s just hard for me to focus on someone else. Dillon made that clear. But Greyson, I don’t know. He’s just different. I think we’re similar in a lot of ways, so I think he’s the first guy to really make an effort to let me do this my way. He’s very structured in a way, so that seems to work for me. He seems to care about how I want this to go, if that’s makes sense,” I said, trying to explain. “I don’t know, maybe it’s a little weird. But I have a ‘get out of jail card’ if I change my mind, so that at least makes it all less scary to jump into, right?”
“Yeah, but how is that really going to go? I mean, if only one of you shows up to the restaurant in three weeks, isn’t that more heart wrenching and pathetic than just a normal ‘you’re unlovable’ break-up? I mean do you really think you can just order a chicken burrito, eat it alone, and be over it?” Addie made a good point.
“What makes you think it won’t be the other way around?” I remarked, sounding a little too cavalier.
“I know you, Mallory. You’re either committed to something or you’re not,” Addie replied. “You’ll know before three weeks is up as to how all of this is going to turn out.”
“We’ll see,” I answered. Addie was right, usually I was sure how things would turn out. But with Greyson, I really had no idea.
The morning was busy for a Monday, and we had to make quite a few more batches of cinnamon rolls. Those were always a best seller. After the morning crowd died down we focused on some of the party orders and events we had coming up that week. I explained to Addie that I wouldn’t be in the following day since I had plans with Greyson, which she was shocked by. I guess me giving up an entire day of work just to hang out with a guy was a little out of character for me. Addie promised to cover everything for the day though, so I knew it wouldn’t be a big deal.
We finally wrapped up the day around six-thirty. I called Greyson as I headed upstairs to my apartment.
“So, are we still on for dinner tonight?” I asked as soon as he answered the phone.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“How about you pick me up at seven-thirty? We can have burgers overlooking the water at Mack’s Tavern,” I said, sifting through my closet for something to wear.
“A real man would never turn down a Mack burger. Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in an hour. Oh, and bring a swimsuit and a change of clothes,” he added.
“It’s way too late tonight for a swim,” I responded.
“It’s not for tonight, it’s for tomorrow. Unless you think you’re borrowing my clothes,” he said mockingly.
“What makes you think I’m staying the night tonight? The date hasn’t even started,” I retorted.
“You promised you would walk me to my door tonight, remember? I know how that will end. All those feelings,” he said, still mocking my conversation from the night before. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
I picked out a striped cotton summer dress to wear and curled my hair. I threw on some strappy sandals to keep it casual and grabbed a small purse. I remembered that I also needed clothes and a swim suit for the following day. I packed a small bag, feeling a little weird that my stay at his condo tonight was already planned. Granted, this wouldn’t be the first time I stayed there, given I went home with him the other night after the bar. What a terrible decision that was for a first impression. He definitely handled it well though, which was a little surprising to me. But this seemed different, planning ahead of time to stay there. I wasn’t sure if that made the whole thing seem more or less trampy, although I guess it didn’t matter at this point anyway.
About seven twenty-five, there was a soft knock on my door.
“You’re early,” I said as I opened the door. He wore dark jeans, leather flip flops, and a white button down shirt. His blonde hair was perfectly shaped in a messy spiky fashion and his eyes looked even bluer than usual.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer,” he said, giving me a swift kiss on my cheek. “You look amazing.”
“You don’t look terrible. I mean, you do too. I mean, you look nice,” I stammered, trying to get my words right. I felt flustered for some reason, as if I was nervous for the date.
We walked down the steps from my apartment door and Greyson pointed to the front of my car.
“What happened there?” he asked, noticing the damage to my bumper.
“Oh, that was awhile ago. Just a little mishap while making a delivery,” I lied. There was no way I could tell him about rear-ending someone while trying to see whether or not he was waiting for me in the restaurant after we first met. Sure, this guy was growing on me. But he still seemed a little cocky, so I wasn’t sure he needed to know I had driven by that night. I just wanted to pretend like the whole thing had never happened.
We climbed into his truck and drove to Mack’s Tavern. It was a large log cabin overlooking Lake Tahoe. The skies were clear and it was a beautiful evening to sit outside and eat.
“So I picked up a big catering job today,” Greyson said as we sat down at our table. “It’s a wedding for a couple hundred people. It’s coming up this weekend, actually.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. But they just booked you now, less than a week before their reception? That doesn’t seem normal.”
“Well, the other place they had booked fell through at the last minute. Apparently the owner had a heart attack or a stroke or something yesterday,” he responded. We ordered drinks and browsed the menu. “I am so elated. I mean not about the heart attack, that’s terrible. But I haven’t done a lot of weddings yet, so it’s good from a business standpoint.”
“What are you making?” I mused.
“Chicken parm, a few pasta sides, some salmon. I actually messed around with a few recipes today, so we’ll see what I come up with. They gave me full reign on what I wanted to do, so that helps. It was going to be a buffet style dinner anyway, so that makes it easier on me since people aren’t already expecting a certain dish they rsvp’d for. The couple is really easy going and they told me I could make anything I wanted. Those are my kind of customers,” he said with a smirk. “The down side is I’ll have to cook what I can prep ahead of time at my mom’s diner, since I obviously don’t have the space in my condo for an order that big. So I’ll have to be gone for a few days,” he said, eyeing me curiously.
“You really have to go all the way to your mom’s to make all the food? There isn’t a closer place to use?”
“Not that I know of. Not until I buy that place on Dixon Drive,” he re
plied, referring to the building he took me to last night. “There is a really nice kitchen at the reception hall, but I can’t get in there until the morning of the event. So I’ll have to get as much prepped as I can before then. All the sauces and whatnot. The great thing about using the diner is that it closes at two in the afternoon, so I have the rest of the day and plenty of time at night to use it.”
I was surprised he had such a successful business so far without having an actual kitchen of his own to work from. I knew the appliances in his condo were high-grade and the place was immaculate, so I’m sure it passed a health inspection and it worked well enough for a lot of his smaller jobs.
“So what do you get here?” Greyson asked, changing the subject. “It’s the same order every time, right?”
“Yes, don’t judge me. I like consistency. The teriyaki pineapple burger is as good as it gets, so I see no need to experiment,” I replied.
“In that case, I’ll get the slider flight. Four different burgers. That way you have to try them all,” he said, staring back at me.
“You’re really killing my predictable streak. I hope they’re all disgusting,” I said playfully.
We placed our orders and had smooth, casual conversation throughout dinner. I was surprised how little he argued with me when I paid the check. That seemed like good progress. It was a little after nine when we got up from our outdoor table to leave the restaurant. As we made our way to the entrance, I heard a familiar voice.
“Mallory?”
Shit. It was Dillon.
Chapter 12
I turned to face Dillon, standing near the hostess area of the restaurant. He appeared to be by himself, but perhaps he was just waiting for someone. He looked handsome in his red polo shirt and designer jeans, and I instantly felt uncomfortable.
“So, how have you been?” Dillon asked sincerely.
“I, uh, I am good. You know, busy and all that. But happy. I am happy,” I said, rambling.
“And this is…” he said gesturing towards Greyson.
“Oh yeah, sorry, this is a guy. I mean yes, it’s a guy obviously. I mean this guy is Greyson,” I said clumsily as Greyson reached out and shook Dillon’s hand.
This is a guy? What was I saying? I suddenly felt hot.
“So it’s nice to see you,” Dillon said, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yes, thank you. I mean, you too,” I stammered. I felt Greyson put his hand on the small of my back. I wish I could say it felt comforting, but for some reason it made me even more nervous.
“So it’s late, and I have to… You know, I have to go,” I said pointing to the front door of the restaurant.
Dillon and Greyson just nodded at each other and we made our way out of the restaurant to the parking lot.
As Greyson walked me to the passenger side door of his pick-up, he hesitated before opening it.
“Do you want to talk about that?” he asked.
“No, not really,” I replied honestly. I wanted to just climb into the truck, but Greyson was still standing between me and the door.
“So I’m still just a guy?” he said with a slight waiver in his voice.
“I’m sorry, that just caught me off guard. I didn’t have time to pull out our contract and explain any of this to him,” I replied.
“You don’t have to explain anything to people, Mal. But it really didn’t hit you to say ‘oh, this is a guy I’m dating,’ or heaven forbid, utter the ‘boyfriend’ word or something?” Greyson looked at me sincerely, and for some reason it made me feel guilty.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. That’s just what came out. I mean that guy just dumped me a week ago. I haven’t really had much time to process this,” I answered honestly.
“So you’re not really over him yet?” he asked me bluntly.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I am definitely over him. The guy told me I wasn’t worth it. So trust me, that’s over. But I met you, like, thirty minutes later. I’m just still trying to catch up, that’s all,” I answered truthfully.
Greyson moved out of the way and I climbed into the seat. He quietly walked around to his side and got in the truck, firing up the ignition.
“Look Greyson, this isn’t an issue. This is nothing,” I said, trying to blow it over.
“Well I don’t want to be ‘just a guy,’ Mal. I’m really trying here,” he said as he drove us back to his apartment.
“I know you are. I’m really sorry,” I said, resting my hand on his leg. We drove back the rest of the way in silence, and I hated it. My mind drifted to thoughts of Dillon. I wondered why he was at the restaurant. I wondered if he had already moved on. I wondered if he ever felt bad about what had happened between us.
“Will you still walk me to my door?” Greyson said, interrupting my thoughts. We pulled into his driveway.
“I don’t have a ride home, so I’m not sure I have much choice,” I said, smiling back. He squeezed my hand and we got out of the truck.
We walked into his condo and I set my bag of clothes down. As I set my keys on the kitchen counter, Greyson smirked.
"What is that look for?" I asked suspiciously.
"What is that on your keys?" he said walking closer to the counter to investigate. "Is that a bird with a cupcake on his head?"
"Yes, don't laugh at me. My Grandma gave it to me. I used to make cupcakes with her all the time when I was little. I had a weird thing for birds, too. I don't know what that was," I said shyly.
"So just a bird fetish instead of an ugly cat figurine?" he asked with a raised brow.
"Shut up, it's not like that at all. It's one of my favorite things," I said smiling, picking up the bird. It was about two inches long. It was a light blue wooden bird key ring with a pink cupcake on his head. "I don't know why a bird would have a cupcake on his head. I guess that is a little weird. But when my Grandma passed, she gave me the bakery building. The key was on this key ring. I always wonder if she suspected back then that I would turn the building into a bakery."
Greyson looked at me sincerely, and I felt very comfortable and happy to be with him. I liked sharing something personal with him about my Grandma. We were finally getting to know a little more about each other.
"So this is it then. I need the bird," he said, holding out his hand.
"You just made fun of it. Why would I give it to you?" I replied curiously.
"As collateral. Just until you think of something else to leave here, that's all," he said sincerely. "It means something to you and I like watching your face as you talk about it. So if it means something to you then it matters to me."
He sounded so sweet in that moment that I couldn't help but to take the bird off of my keys and hand it over. He gently set it on top of his stove, and his smile looked warm and genuine.
"So, I thought we could sit out on the patio tonight. Maybe have a drink and talk?" he suggested, opening up his fridge. He took out a bottle of wine and I smiled and nodded.
The night sky was magnificent as we sat outside underneath it. The lights from downtown twinkled in the distance and the air was a little crisp. It reminded me of the night we drove up the mountain and sat in the back of his truck.
"So the other night, when we were up at that spot you found overlooking the lake," I began, making conversation. "You said you like to go up there sometimes to think. Deep stuff, remember? Are you going to tell me what's in that head of yours?" I really did want to learn more about him, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to have some meaningful conversation.
"Hey, I thought that was fourth date stuff. Technically this is only our third," he said teasingly.
"Oh come on, I'm staying the night for the second time. Not to mention I've met your entire family, including cousins. Surely that moves us up a bit," I responded.
"Good point. But this kind of stuff makes me a little shy. I feel weird talking about it," he said honestly.
"Something that makes you shy? I thought you were cocky and sure of yourself
all hours of the day," I said dramatically.
"Only when I'm trying to impress a girl who's giving off a vibe that she hates my guts," he answered back.
"Answer the question," I said, taking a sip of the wine he poured. It tasted sweet, and seemed perfect for the atmosphere.
"Well, when I'm alone up there, I don't know. It's just a good reflection spot. I feel like I need silence to hear my dad," he responded sincerely. He looked up at the sky. "That's what I think about the most. I don't actually hear him, obviously. Don't think I'm crazy. But I don't know, I feel like he can at least hear me when there's no other noise around. Am I scaring you off yet?" He smiled at me and his face looked perfect in the glow from his soft patio lights.
"No. I don't think that's crazy at all," I said reassuringly.
"I was only four years old when he died. I feel like I don't have any real memories of him, only the stories I've heard from other people. But I have some crazy dreams about him. I never actually see him. But they're always the same. It's really weird to me."
"Keep going, I like this. What kinds of dreams?" I asked, prying for more information. It was the most honest and emotional he'd ever sounded, and it was endearing to me.
"Well, I'm always standing at this cliff. This huge cliff, overlooking the water. It's not a place I've actually been to before, but it looks the same in every dream so it feels like it's a real place. I always feel like I'm called there because my father wants to tell me something. Like there's an important message he's trying to get through to me, but I just can't hear it. I stand there, and I hear the water and the air. But that's it. I'm always straining to hear something else, but there are no actual words. Sometimes I stand at the edge of the cliff and look over, kind of like I'm trying to look into the water for an answer. But nothing happens. I feel like I'm not getting anywhere just standing there, waiting. So the only thing left to do is jump. I stand there, contemplating it, and then... sometimes I do it. I stand back a few feet, run, and then jump off the cliff. As I'm falling I feel like I can finally hear my dad. Then every single time, before I hit the water, I wake up in a crazy sweat and my body is shaking."