The Only Exception

by Magan Vernon

  He took a step closer to me, his hands in his pockets. “Monica, I know we may not see eye-to-eye politically, but there is something about you that fascinates me. I love our conversations, and I can’t deny how much I enjoyed having you on my couch the other night.”

  I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks just thinking about our kiss. He took another step forward; the mix of his cologne and the flowers was enough to send my hormones into over-drive. I wanted to jump him right there and forget all about politics. But instead I just swallowed.

  “Look, I like you. I don’t say that to most girls,” he said, moving one of his hands out of his pocket and onto the counter.

  I took a few steps backward until I was against the wall. “You seem like a really nice guy, Trey, but do you think this is what would be best for us?”

  “I’m not saying that we have to get married. I’m just asking you for one night out and then I’ll never ask again.” He put both his hands on the wall, on either side of my face. My lips trembled, watching his face move just inches form mine. “I usually don’t have to beg, but there is something about you that makes me forget everything else, so I will ask you out every single day until you say yes.”

  He leaned in closer, his words breathing onto my mouth. I wanted to kiss his soft lips so bad. There was no way I could refuse. “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Really?” His smile lit up his whole face, from his dimples and up to the adorable freckles.

  I bit my lip and nodded to keep from throwing myself on him and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

  “Great.” He moved his hands off the wall and stepped backward. “I’ll pick you up here tomorrow? Does six sound good, or is that your usual bath time?” He raised an eyebrow.

  My face felt like it was a million degrees. “Um, no six works. I’ll postpone my bath.” Or I would possibly need a cold shower.

  He took a few more steps back and put his hand on the doorknob. “I look forward to it, Miss Remy.”

  He winked and was out the door before I could respond.

  One minute I was hating the guy and the next I agreed to go on a date with him. It was like my heart was torn in two different directions, and the horny part was winning out.

  I covered my face with my hands and let out a slight giggle. I hadn’t been on a date in a long time, and I couldn’t help but be giddy. I removed my hands and walked over to the flowers, inhaling a large whiff of their beautiful scent. A date with Trey could be dangerous, but then again, it could also be just what I needed.

  Chapter 9

  I had to work early again on Saturday morning, but most of the students were gone for Labor Day weekend, so it was pretty much just me and Melanie “sampling” the different drinks on the menu.

  “So, what are your plans for this weekend?” Melanie asked after downing her newest creation, a vanilla and peppermint latte.

  I squirted a few pumps of caramel into a foam cup and glanced up at her. “I need to head to the mall after work and then I have dinner plans tonight, but that is about it.”

  “Dinner plans?” She walked over and leaned on the counter beside the pumps of syrup. “With who?”

  “Trey,” I said it quickly, pouring some milk in a steam pot, hoping she wouldn’t make a big deal of it. No such luck.

  “WHAT?” she squealed. Luckily we were the only two in the place, but I’m sure everyone heard her across campus.

  “Shhh!” I put my finger to my lips. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just dinner.” I put my finger down and steamed my milk.

  “Not that big of a deal? You’re going on a date with a guy that you have said you hate, but always flirt with, and he’s the freaking governor’s son!”

  Once my milk heated to 140 degrees, I pulled it out and poured it into my cup of syrups. “How do we really know he’s the governor’s son? Maybe he is just a cyborg that is an illusion of the real Trey Chapman.”

  Melanie scoffed. “Seriously? I would think you would have figured that out by now if he was real or not. We have the Internet for a reason.”

  She was right. Even though I recognized him from his dad’s campaign trail I still did a few background checks and stalked his Facebook page more than once. Unless his father had someone erased all of Trey’s past and replaced it with a new one, there were no arrest records, and the guy really was an open book. He didn’t seem to hold back what he was feeling, and as far as I knew he didn’t leave his apartment at night to live some double life. Nothing that I could find, anyway.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t seem to be hiding anything shady.”

  “And now you have a date with the non-shady guy that always looks like he just walked out of a JCrew catalog.”

  “I know. That’s why I need to go to the mall after work. I have to find something to wear.”

  I looked over my cup at Melanie’s smiling face. “Well, if this isn’t a big deal then I should definitely go with you, so I could help pick out something to wear for this date or non-date.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes, but was secretly a little relieved. I had no idea what to wear for dinner with the governor’s son and could use all the help I could get for shopping. I would have asked Sam, but her wardrobe contained more vinyl than denim, and she probably wouldn’t have been happy to hear about the non-date anyway.

  ***

  Taylor wasn’t far from Chicago, so there was a ton of different places to go shopping. Not that I could really afford any of them. There was a mall a few miles from Central’s campus, a Target, two Wal-Marts, a few thrift stores, but not too much else. We decided to try the mall first and see what we could find at the department stores. My budget was fifty bucks, so I would have to stretch it.

  Melanie picked up a short, sparkly number that looked like a big disco ball. “How about this? I think it screams that you aren’t interested but still shiny!”

  I giggled. “Seriously? Is this what normal girls wear?”

  Melanie shrugged, putting the dress back on the rack. “I guess homecoming dresses have gone a little over the top. Maybe we should get out of the junior section?”

  I looked over the mounds of tulle and sequins. “Are you trying to say that I’m too old for the junior’s section?”

  Melanie picked up another red number that was even shorter and had a corset top. “I’m just saying that none of these seem like an appropriate outfit to wear on a date with the governor’s son.”

  “Fine.” I sighed. “Adult clothing it is.”

  We took the escalator to the petite section. I’d never actually shopped in the women’s section before, and it felt like going into a completely different realm. Instead of bright colors and stacks of jeans, it was full of business suits and sweaters neatly stacked on shelves. I guess it was probably a better section to be in if teen pop stars weren’t on the posters behind each rack.

  “Okay, now the object will be to find a dress that doesn’t make you look like a mom,” Melanie said, heading toward the back.

  I picked one dress off a rack that was gold with a bolero jacket. “I think my mom wore this to my cousin’s wedding last summer.”

  “If the message you want to send to Trey is aunt-of-the-bride then maybe that’s the one.” Melanie laughed.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I then looked at the tag, $120. “And this is also out of my price range. Maybe I should browse the clearance rack.”

  “Clearance clothes, away!” Melanie pumped her fist in the air.

  The clearance rack was everything it should be: full of last season’s clothes, a lot of ugly sweaters, and not too much else. But then I found it. The perfect dress among the orange capri pants and yellow shorts.

  “How about this?” I held the dress up for Melanie to see. It was a black, three-quarter-length sleeve wrap dress with a lace overlay.

  Melanie’s eyes lit up when she saw it. “I think that’s totally the one.”

  I looked at the price and instantly my smile faded. “How i
s this clearance? It’s still seventy-five bucks!”

  Melanie looked at the tag. “But it’s marked down from one hundred and fifty!”

  I stared at the dress, feeling the lace between my fingers. It really was perfect. It looked like something an English princess would wear to an afternoon tea or in my case, out to dinner with a politician’s son, wherever he would take me. He didn’t exactly say where we were going, but I didn’t think Trey ever went half-ass on anything.

  “But it’s still more than I have to spend. Remember I have the expensive apartment to pay for as well.” I sighed, setting the dress back on the rack.

  Melanie quickly picked it up. “Okay, I think there was a twenty-five percent off coupon in a flyer I’m sure we could get at the checkout, which after tax would take it down to like sixty and then I could loan you another ten.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  Melanie smiled. “I’m not going to let you go on your first date with this guy in just a t-shirt and jeans. After all the shit you’ve been through, you deserve to have one night to feel like you deserve to be with a politician’s son.”

  Melanie didn’t know all of the details from my days at Taylor, but she knew the general gist of it. One day over the summer, after her high school boyfriend cheated on her with some chick he met at a concert, we spent the night eating ice cream and watching chick flicks. It was then she admitted that she only dated him to escape from her alcoholic father, and I admitted that I transferred to Taylor to escape a guy as well.

  “Thanks, Mel, you’re the best.” I stared at the dress as she handed it to me. Maybe it wasn’t a million dollar dress that would be worn by his mother or some senator’s mistress, but to me it was perfect. And hopefully the night wouldn’t disappoint either.

  My mind drifted to the last time I went out. The last time a guy smiled at me before pushing me to the ground and leaving me with bruises both inside and out. I told myself that Trey wasn’t like him. That not every guy would do that to a girl; just like my counselor and my mother kept telling me over and over. But I knew that just in case I would always have my mace handy, and always be ready for the unexpected.

  Chapter 10

  The dress fit perfectly, hitting right above my knees and showing just a tiny amount of skin where it dipped into a V at my chest, but not enough that it was inappropriate. I curled my hair, put on enough makeup that I still looked like my natural self, and then slid on my knee-high black boots. When I walked out of the bedroom, Sam and Mac were sitting on the couch watching some slasher movie. Sam turned as soon as my feet hit the kitchen tile.

  “Whoa, looking hot roomie. Where are you going?”

  I fiddled with the black clutch I borrowed from Melanie, sliding in a tube of lip gloss next to my mace. “Just out to dinner with a friend.”

  “Dinner with a friend doesn’t require fuck-me boots,” Sam said, smacking her lips so loud I could hear them across the room.

  “These aren’t those kind of boots. They’re Steve Madden.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “So who is the lucky friend?” She made air quotes when she said friend.

  “Just a guy from my classes.” I scanned my dress for any lint.

  Before Sam could get in another word edgewise there was a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it!” Sam jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. I tried to stop her, but she was quicker. She swung it open to another three dozen roses. I knew exactly how many there were, because that was the same amount Trey brought the last time, and these were identical.

  “Whoa!” Sam yelled.

  The flowers moved down, and, of course, Trey revealed his smiling face. “Hi, Samantha.”

  Sam put her hand on her hip. “A guy from class, ey? I guess that explains all the flowers.”

  Trey stood in the doorway staring from me to Sam. “Yes. Monica, these are for you.”

  “Thank you, Trey.” I took the flowers and placed them on the counter next to the other set.

  Sam gave me the once over and then her eyes widened as I stood in the doorway next to Trey. He was in his usual white dress shirt and blue dress pants with his hands in his pockets, looking like a sexy politician.

  Sam smacked her lips. “Seriously? You’re going on a date with Trey?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Sam, I’m going to dinner with Trey.”

  “You’re going to have to give me the deets about how this came about when you get home.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I will,” I said with my hand on the doorknob.

  Before I could close the door Sam yelled, “I won’t wait up!”

  When I shut the door, Trey stood there grinning, making me melt even more than when he gave me the roses. “You look beautiful.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I kept my head down for fear I was probably blushing. The guy had a thing for making me blush, and if he was going to continue with complimenting me then my face would be permanently red.

  I followed Trey down to the parking garage where he pulled his keys out of his pocket and a bright red Mustang beeped.

  “Seriously? You drive a Mustang? I was expecting something like a Range Rover or an equally over-compensating SUV.” I walked alongside the sleek car and slid into its plush, leather seats.

  “We’re in a recession. I need to drive something more fuel efficient and American made to help our local economy.”

  He pulled out of the parking garage and out onto Willow Avenue. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other sitting on the console as if he was expecting me to put mine there with his. I wasn’t that easy, and it took more than a few smiles to hold someone’s hand. No matter how damn attractive he was, or how good of a kisser he was. If he said the right words, though, he probably could have convinced me. He really would make a good politician someday.

  “So, where are we going?” I asked as he got on the highway going north. “I hope you don’t plan on driving me all the way to Chicago to some fancy restaurant with a valet and fifty different forks.”

  He shook his head, his dimples making an appearance. It took everything I had not to reach over and kiss each of his dimples and then trail up and kiss every single freckle. “Not Chicago. I wanted to take you somewhere special.”

  “So what is so special that we had to go out of town? Am I dressed appropriate?”

  His eyes briefly flitted over me. “You could wear anything, and it would be fine. You’re absolutely stunning no matter what you’re dressed in.”

  “Stop it, Trey!” I gently shoved his arm. I’d never actually seen his bicep, but from what I felt it was like solid muscle underneath his dress shirt. I actually stayed away from the gym inside our apartment building for fear of running into him. To have that good of a body he had to work out, and the last place I wanted to see him was where I would be sweaty and in gym shorts.

  “What? I can’t I compliment you?”

  I bit down on my lip, trying to keep my libido in check. I wanted to tell him to pull over so that I could grab him and glide my tongue all over his body from his freckles down to his, probably designer, underwear. I had to get a hold of myself. I hadn’t had those feelings for a guy in months and now my body was working in overdrive. My mother always said there was a thin line between love and hate, and the way Trey pushed my buttons, sometimes I didn’t know what side I was on. But at that moment, the good side was winning out.

  “Uh, well, it’s hard to believe it when I’m always sitting next to the guy who is dressed like he’s running for office.”

  He clenched and unclenched his mouth, bringing out the lines of his jaw. I had to stop staring. “I just like to look nice. I was never one of those guys who walked around in faded jeans and band t-shirts or some random sports gear. Swag is for boys. Class is for men.”

  I swallowed hard. Whoever said that a man in a nice suit is to women what lingerie is to men was right. Trey did always look good in his dress clothes. Polished. He wasn’t like the othe
r guys in class that just rolled out of bed and threw on a hat. I was starting to really understand the full sex appeal of it. “Very well said, Mr. Chapman.”

  “Thank you, Miss Remy.”

  Trey turned off the highway onto the exit for Lake Central. The only restaurant I knew that was near there was a little dive bar they called The Lake Shack. It was a throw-peanuts-on-the-floor type of place that served drinks out of mason jars and usually had a country band playing. I didn’t take Trey for that kind of guy.

  But when he passed The Lake Shack, I was thoroughly confused. I hoped he wasn’t planning on taking me out in the middle of nowhere to have his way with me. He didn’t seem like that type of guy, but I had been wrong before. Thank God I brought my mace with me.

  He turned down a residential road full of lake houses that weren’t so much houses as they were mansions; sprawling houses with manicured lawns and full views of the sun setting over the lake. He then stopped at one of the last houses in a cul-de-sac, leading us down a cobblestone path to a circular driveway. My mouth gaped open when I spotted the house. It was a long L-shaped building made of stone and gray brick. Black shudders flanked each of the country-style windows, and I could see a baby grand piano in one of the larger ones.

  “Is this your parent’s place?” I asked, breathlessly.

  Trey parked the car in front of the front door, turning off the engine. “No, it’s one of my dad’s friend’s places, but they aren’t coming in this weekend, so they said I could borrow it.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could muster as I got out of the car and stared at all the beauty surrounding me. The lot was lined with weeping willows, pine trees, and rows of colorful flowers. Behind the house I could just make out the lake with the orange and red tinges of the sunset over it.

  Trey went around the back of the car and then came back beside me with a folded up blue blanket in one hand and a picnic basket in the other. I tilted my head, staring at the basket. “We’re having a picnic?”