“I grew up with a single mom and three sisters,” she said. “We take care of ourselves.”
“I respect that, of course. But sometimes it’s nice to have a friend take care of you, right? Isn’t that what you’re doing with Sophie?”
“You remembered her name?”
He tapped his temple. “Anything to do with you, I’ve committed to memory.”
In spite of her uncertainty, she had to laugh. He was adorable.
“It feels different when I’m doing it for a girlfriend,” she said. “A man doing it for me seems wrong somehow.”
He put up his hands. “If you forgive me, I promise never to interfere in your life again.”
She returned her gaze to the cash in the middle of the table. “That will come in handy. And the car payments are not as much as I thought they would be.”
“I told you my guy would take care of you,” he said.
“Now you sound like a gangster. Maybe that illegal moonshine is still in your blood.”
He tilted his head and looked way too cute. “Do you like a guy with a little bad boy in him?”
“I do not like bad boys. Not even a little bit.”
He grinned. “Then we’re in business.” Sobering, he leaned forward, as if inspecting her for smudges on her face. “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”
She did actually. Just then, staring into his dark blue eyes, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.
When Alissa arrived at work that night, there was a bouquet of two dozen pink tulips waiting in Rif’s office for her, along with a note.
Looking forward to our date tomorrow night. XO, Jed
Rif, behind his desk, placed his hands over his belly. The chair creaked in complaint as he tilted backward. “He follows directions. This is good.”
She sank into the battered love seat across from his desk. “You won’t believe what he did.” She told him the entire story, including having her car hauled off to the junkyard.
“I thought he was a good guy,” Rif said. “But I wasn’t sure he was good enough for you. This rarely happens, but I think I was wrong. He might be a keeper.”
Still dressed in her jeans and sweater, she crossed one leg over the other and pushed back her bangs. “It was a little heavy-handed, don’t you think? I’ve known him less than twenty-four hours.”
“You young women and your rules these days,” Rif said. “A man who likes you did something nice. There’s nothing wrong with that. Let him court you. Make him work for it, of course, but allow some romantic gestures.”
“What do you know about romantic gestures?” she asked.
His chair squeaked as he rocked back and forth. “I’m romantic as hell. Just ask my wife.”
“When was the last time you sent her flowers?”
“Last week for her birthday.”
She narrowed her eyes, like she did when she suspected her kindergartners were lying to her.
“I’ve got the receipt to prove it,” Rif said.
“Fine. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Listen, about this car payment. You’ve been doing a good job around here for years. I’m not sure how you take care of the weekend crowds without breaking a sweat but you do the job of two people. I’m giving you a raise. Another three bucks an hour.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you sure?”
“My wife hates that I make you wear that skimpy outfit, so I feel a little guilty. Yeah, I’m sure.”
She sat up straighter from where she’d sunk into the cushion. “Does this mean the costume is out?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, you’d be too warm in real clothes—the way you move around here.”
“Okay, well, I gratefully accept the raise, and now I have to go change into said outfit.” She stood up from the couch. “What do I do about the flowers? I don’t want the other girls to see them and feel bad.” She couldn’t remember anyone getting flowers delivered to the dressing room ever.
“I’ll keep them in here. You can take them home at the end of the night,” he said.
“He asked me what my favorite flower was.”
“I sure to hell hope it’s pink tulips.”
She grinned, ridiculously happy. “It is.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “You make sure to text me where he’s taking you tomorrow, okay? Just so I know where you are, in case I have to send the police searching for you.”
“Will do,” she said. “And thanks for looking out for me.”
“Anytime, kid.”
Chapter 2
As promised, Jed arrived at her door Sunday evening promptly at six. She drew in a breath at the sight of him, standing there in jeans and a button-down striped shirt that hugged his trim waist. Her palms dampened. What was under that shirt? Would his skin feel velvety under her fingers despite his hard muscles?
She blinked a few times before inviting him to come inside. All afternoon, she’d debated about whether or not to do so. It wasn’t shame about her five-hundred-square-foot apartment. She had it decorated nicely, especially now that she had a real couch and kitchen table. The landlord had repainted and put in new carpet before she leased it last year. Living alone, she was able to keep it clean and tidy. So what was it that held her back? Made her feel slightly embarrassed? The first time she’d spent with him had been in a limo nearly the size of her bedroom. Did her poverty make her not good enough for him?
She knew what Mom would say. Don’t be ridiculous. Your character matters more than how much you have in the bank.
But still, it was a strange feeling to invite someone like Jed Marsh into her modest dwelling.
In the end, she decided to act like a grown-up. If he didn’t like her circumstances, then he wasn’t for her.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked. “I opened wine. We could have a glass before we go.”
Behind him, the spring light was soft and pink. “I’d like that, thank you.”
“Will Thomas mind?” she asked, as she opened the door wider for him to pass through.
“No Thomas tonight.” He stopped just outside the doorway. “Just me. Is that all right?”
“Yes.” She blushed. Did he think she wanted him to bring his driver? That she was only interested in the glamour? “I don’t know why I assumed he would drive us tonight.”
“For the most part, I only use him for business.” He pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Sometimes for special occasions.”
She beckoned him over to the table, where she had the a bottle of wine opened and two glasses.
“I don’t really date much,” she said. “I’m not sure how all this is supposed to work, but one of my sisters suggested I ask you in for wine as an ice breaker.” When Alissa had called her sister Stevie to tell her about her date and ask advice, she’d changed the details of how she’d met Jed. She’s said she met him in a bar while out with friends. All true, other than her friends were strippers and she’d been the one serving the drinks.
“May I pour for us?” Jed asked.
“Sure. Booze is kind of your expertise.” Booze is your expertise? What was wrong with her? This was why she didn’t date. She was too much of a dork.
But he smiled graciously. “Actually, I was thinking you’ve probably had enough of serving people drinks by this time in the weekend.”
“Oh, well, that’s true. Thank you.” She hadn’t thought of it like that.
His lips twitched as he inspected the wine bottle. “White Zin. I haven’t had this since high school.”
“Is it the wrong kind?” She flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t really know anything about wine. I liked the color.” She’d also liked the price. At six dollars, she figured it must be better than the boxed wine that sold for about fifteen. She could not have possibly served Jed Marsh wine from a box.
“Pink. Your favorite.” He smiled he poured them each a small glass. “I like your place. You have good taste.”
“Would you like to sit?” she asked.
“Sure.” He sat in the chair. She took the closest end of the couch.
“I forgot to say how nice you look.” He set his glass of wine on one of her Paris coasters with retro art from France. Someday, she hoped to visit. For now, they reminded her of one of her life goals, to travel Europe. “You look pretty, that is.” He cleared his throat, then picked up his glass again.
“Thank you. You too.”
She hadn’t been sure what to wear and had tried on multiple outfits, which were now in a pile on her bed. In the end, she’d chosen a pair of loose jeans and a fitted brown sweater that matched her eyes and hair. She’d done her makeup more carefully than usual, rimming her eyes in a smudged smoky look and applying a soft pink lip gloss.
In addition, she’d used product to make her fine hair do something besides lie flat against her scalp. Now, she fluffed her hair on one side, self-conscious. What would they talk about all night?
He took a sip from his wine and then made a face, as if it were a sour lemon.
“Is it too dry?” Dry was a wine description, wasn’t it?
“Um, no. It’s a little sweeter than I’m used to,” he said.
She tried some from her own glass. Sweet and cold. “It’s good. Kind of like Kool-Aid.”
He laughed. “Yes, that’s a good description.” He took another sip. This time without the grimace. “Alcoholic Kool-Aid. What could be better?”
“I can tell you don’t like it,” she said, laughing. “But you’re very sweet to drink it anyway.”
“I love it.” He took another large sip. “Great vintage.”
She folded her legs under her, feeling more comfortable. There was no reason to be nervous. Not with Jed.
“I have reservations at a restaurant in Redmond. A steakhouse.” He raked his hands through his perfectly trimmed hair, making it stick up in tufts similar to the other night. “And now I’m sitting here wondering if you’re a vegetarian.”
“I’m not. I like steak. I don’t eat it often because it’s so expensive. It’ll be a treat.”
“Are you sure? Because we could go anywhere you want. I hope this doesn’t sound like I’m bragging, but I can get us a reservation pretty much anywhere that serves Marsh Vodka. One of the perks of the job.”
“As long as it’s not the club where I work, then I’m game.”
“As much as I like Rif, I’d never take you there for a date.”
“That’s reserved for clients?” she asked, teasing.
“Exactly.”
Jed drove a luxury SUV with gray leather seats that seemed to hug her. At dinner, she had a tenderloin that melted in her mouth, asparagus soaked in butter and fluffy mashed potatoes that made her groan with satisfaction. They shared a bottle of red wine that cost as much as a night’s worth of tips. She tried not to think of it, but every time she lifted the glass to her mouth, she calculated how many dollars it cost per sip.
Regardless, they had a great time, talking and laughing all through dinner. He liked action films and she liked romantic comedies. No surprise there. He adored graphic novels and podcasts about politics. She admitted to a love of historical series from BBC. He’d never seen one, which she found nearly impossible to believe. “But you look like a character from one of them,” she said.
“What? Like how?”
She hesitated. How did she describe the quality? “Clean-shaven and that floppy hair, for one. The heroes always have hair that a girl wants to run their fingers through.”
“Do you want to run your fingers through my hair?” He leaned his head over the table. “Feel free.”
She tapped the top of his forehead, laughing. “Not in a restaurant.”
“Oh, sorry. I was excited for a moment.”
“It’s your eyes, too,” she said, after he’d settled back in his chair. “They have this earnestness to them. Most men these days seem either disinterested or cocky or so nerdy you’re sure they’re counting the moments until the next comic-con, instead of listening to what you’re saying.”
“I do love comic-con.”
“As long as you don’t make me dress up in a costume and go with you, we can agree to disagree.”
“I’m in despair.” He clutched his chest. “What if we have nothing in common?”
“Let’s try music,” she said.
“Country?”
“Me too.” She grinned back at him.
“I have tickets to Zac Brown Band next week. Will you go with me?” he asked.
She squealed. “I would die to go.” Her heart sank. “But I can’t if it’s Friday or Saturday night.”
“As luck would have it, the tickets are a week from tonight.”
“I can’t wait.”
The talk turned to dreams and bucket lists. She shared her desire to travel through Europe. He admitted to a year where he’d studied in Paris. “I visited every country by high-speed train. It was the best year of my life.”
“You’re so lucky.”
“I have been. But none of it’s as good as sharing this meal with you.”
She stared at him. “Are you for real?”
“I’d never lie to you. I can promise you that. I’ve not felt this way about a woman, ever. I know we’ve just met but there’s something about you that feels so right. I could spend the rest of my life talking to you and never get bored.” He pushed his plate away and folded his fingers together like she had her students do when they were done with their lunch and ready to go to recess. The tender gesture moved her, almost to tears. She couldn’t explain why exactly, other than it reminded her of the innocence and vulnerability of her small students. The world hadn’t gotten to them yet. They were not yet guarded and suspicious. This man appeared to be the same way.
She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. “What makes you so willing to show me all your cards?”
“You. Just you,” he said.
They were barely inside the door when they started kissing. Only managing to unbutton shirts, they stumbled to the bedroom. She remembered the pile of clothes but suddenly it didn’t matter if he saw them. She pushed them all on the floor, then turned back to him.
He grabbed her close, and they piled onto the bed together. They kissed, breathless and wanton. Still close, he lifted himself above her and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure,” she said. “But you should know—I’m not that experienced.” She’d had a boyfriend in college and then one other, but no one else.
“I don’t care.” He brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “It’s just you and me here. We can make our way together.”
So, this is it, she thought. The start of a new chapter. One in which Jed was front and center.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him to her. “Just you and me,” she whispered. You and me forever.
Chapter 3
On Tuesday, after about a thousand texts throughout the day, Alissa pulled into the driveway of Jed’s home. She sat in the car, looking around, surprised. This was not how she’d pictured his lifestyle. She’d imagined a penthouse suite in a building in downtown Seattle, where rich bachelors had rooftop parties and drank expensive wine. Red wine, not pink, she thought, smiling to herself. Instead, he lived in a quiet neighborhood in Kirkland, a suburb built at the northern end of Lake Washington. A few blocks from the lake, the house was built on the upward slope of a hill, with a view of the water. Prime property in the Seattle area. Given the refurbished exterior and manicured lawn shrubs, the house was probably worth several million.
Her stomach clenched. This house represented a
ll the ways they were different. His wealth and stature. She suspected the types of people he socialized with, for both business and pleasure, were all wealthy and sophisticated. When she was with him, his wealth never crossed her mind. He was just Jed, sweet and a little insecure, thanks to his overcritical parents. However, seeing where he lived made it all too clear how far apart their lifestyles were.
Several young children in raincoats in the yard next door tossed a ball to their yellow Labrador. As Alissa got out of her car, a young mother walked by, pushing a stroller with not one but two toddlers who kicked and babbled. A typical spring day in Seattle, the sky was partially blue and partially cloudy and sprinkling, creating a rainbow over the lake. This was an older neighborhood with mostly craftsman-style homes, remodeled and added onto during the gentrification of the community. Like a lot of areas in the Puget Sound area, what had once been a middle-class neighborhood was now filled with wealthy high-tech employees. There were no such things as middle class neighborhoods any longer. Property prices and taxes had forced them all into apartments or out of King County, where they could still hope to find a house under a million dollars.
She smoothed the front of her dress where it had crumpled around her waist. She’d come straight from work, having stayed late to print out the photographs of her students for their Mother’s Day projects. They’d made frames out of popsicle sticks, then decorated them using colored ink pens. After printing all of them, she had to stick them in the frames. Tomorrow, they would wrap the gifts in tissue paper and make cards.
She walked over the uneven stone walkway toward the house. Before she reached the steps up to the wraparound porch, Jed appeared.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you pull up.” He held out his arms and drew her into an embrace. “It feels like forever since I saw you.”
“It’s only been two days.” She giggled, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lift her off her feet to kiss her.
Christmas Rings Page 5
