Unrestrained Behavior: The Pleasure and Risk of Choice (The 'Un'missable Series Book 3)

by Jerry Summers

“I do. I just don’t relish the thought of food poisoning.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Just reserve your opinion until after the meal.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Wendy opens the door and as soon as they walk in she is greeted by the owner.

  “Welcome back, Wendy. And so soon! I love it.” She glances over at Jim and gives him a once-over. “I guess you would like a private spot tonight?”

  “Perfect. Jim, this is Rachelle. She owns the place. Rachelle, this is Jim.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Jim,” Rachelle says, shaking his offered hand.

  “Jim was quite apprehensive when we first drove up,” Wendy says, grinning at him.

  “Well, let’s see if we can calm your fears with good food and excellent service,” Rachelle says. “Follow me.”

  She seats them both in a very private booth tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main restaurant and takes their drink order.

  “I’ll have a crown and coke, please,” Jim says, and looks to Wendy to order hers next.

  She goes for the shock value, making eye contact with Jim and keeping it. “I’d like Sex on the Beach tonight, please.”

  Rachelle observes Jim squirm and blush slightly, she gives Wendy a sly wink. “I’ll get your orders up right away.”

  Jim looks around the restaurant and is amused by the strange décor. The combination of picnic tables pushed together for a group dining experience, plush leather booths along the exterior walls, and a full open bar at the opposite end of the restaurant makes the vibe welcoming and comfortable.

  The artwork is oddly sophisticated with quality local artist impressionist work displayed, offset by funky pieces of pottery and Native American artifacts. As he studies the surroundings, he recognizes that this odd mixture of designs works well. The restaurant is rambunctious yet cordial at the group tables with sufficient privacy in the booths. He decides he likes it. As he turns his attention back to Wendy, he realizes she’s been studying his reaction.

  He clears his throat. “This is definitely a unique dining experience.”

  “That’s what you told me you wanted. But if this is too much, we can have one drink and go somewhere else.”

  “Not at all. You asked me to trust you and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “Thank you. I think you’ll find this experience to be not only unique but also delightful.”

  “How can it be anything less? After all, I am having dinner with you.”

  “Awe,” Wendy says, smiling, then makes a face, “Gag me with a spoon.”

  He laughs out loud, and just then their drinks arrive.

  Wendy offers a toast, “To wonderful company, conversation, and delicious food.”

  Jim raises his glass and his eyebrow. “Perhaps I need a spoon of my own to gag on.”

  Wendy laughs, enjoying that he also indulges in sarcasm.

  They both look over their menus, and when Rachelle returns to take their orders Wendy orders filet mignon with the huckleberry reduction and blue cheese crumbles, and a side of fresh vegetables. Jim decides to try the pan seared dorado with wild rice and a Caesar salad.

  Rachelle repeats the order back correctly, and Jim says, “Yes, that’s right. Also, what type of oil is the dorado seared in?”

  “Coconut oil,” Rachelle replies, making a final note on her order sheet.

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  Wendy gives Jim an inquisitive look.

  He shrugs. “I’m highly allergic to peanuts, so I wanted to make sure the fish wasn’t seared in peanut oil. By the way, if you’re ever with me and I look like I’m dying while grasping my throat, I probably am and you’ll need to stab me with my Epi-pen. I always carry one, and it’s always either in my left jacket pocket or my left front pants pocket.”

  She stares at him. “Just how severe is your allergy to peanuts?”

  “Extremely,” he replies, sipping his drink, “my throat will swell shut in less than two minutes without administering the Epi-pen.”

  “Thank you for letting me know. I think I would have freaked out if you reacted and I didn’t know about the food allergy. Are you allergic to anything else?”

  “Nothing that I’m aware of besides peanuts.”

  They chat for a while, and then order a second round of drinks.

  Wendy asks, “So, you said during our little meet and greet in San Francisco that you were recently single?”

  “Ah, yes. Brenda and I had been in a relationship for just over a year when she decided we needed to get married and have babies because she wasn’t getting any younger.”

  “How old is Brenda?”

  “She’s thirty-three.”

  “Oh, well, that’s fair. Why the break up?”

  “Well, I’m not ready for children now and don’t have any reason to believe I’ll ever be ready. My career is of primary importance to me and has to be my focus. Brenda told me I was selfish, and she wasn’t going to wait around for me to grow up. Then she gave me an ultimatum: my career or her.” He shrugs.

  “You chose your career?” Wendy laughs.

  “Yes. So maybe I am selfish.”

  “Or maybe you know what is important to you and you stuck to your life goals. Maybe she’s the one being selfish by demanding you change. Were your goals consistent from the start of your relationship with her, and did she know them?”

  “Oh yeah. I was very clear on my position about work and life goals.”

  “Then professionally speaking, I don’t think you’re being selfish and it’s her issue.”

  He simply grins at her for a moment. “Well, that’s good to hear. What about you?”

  “I haven’t been in any type of relationship for over ten years now.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “Like you I’ve been pretty focused on my career, and from what I see, most relationships have significant issues.”

  “Ah, I see,” Jim says. “But you see the worst in relationships, and you can’t judge everyone’s actions in the same manner you judge your clients’ circumstances.”

  “That’s true, but every relationship has the potential to develop into the type of circumstances my clients find themselves in on a daily basis.”

  “And yet not every relationship becomes abusive. You’ve become stilted and need to allow yourself to become vulnerable again with someone who earns your trust. As long as you keep people outside the walls you’ve built, you’ll never be able to trust anyone again.”

  “That’s a little harsh don’t you think? Besides, I’m not sure I want to let anyone that close to me again. They are the ones who can truly hurt you.”

  “That’s absolutely true, but that’s also where the greatest joy is found. With someone you can share your joy and pain, success and failure, dreams and fears, you know they truly understand and support you regardless of where you land on the spectrum.”

  Wendy sits back in her chair. “True. But I’m happy with my life, so why do I need to risk the hurt?”

  “Because without risking vulnerability you’ll never know the riches of joy.”

  At that moment, dinner arrives, and Wendy clears her throat and says, “Yes! Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  Jim sits there looking into her eyes. “We’ll finish this discussion over dessert,” he says finally and reaches for his fork.

  She breaks eye contact, glaring down at her plate. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s already finished.”

  “Oh, but it’s not,” Jim counters quietly.

  Wendy doesn’t respond, taking a bite of her filet instead, and savors it as it melts in her mouth. She is instantly in food heaven, and can tell by Jim’s expression that he pretty much feels the same way about his dorado.

  Jim swallows his first bite, looking absolutely stunned. “You were absolutely right about this place. This is fantastic. And to think I would have never come inside based on the look from the outside.”

  “Here. You have to try a bite of this filet,” s
he says as she puts a bite on his plate. He does the same for her with his dorado as she continues, “This place is well-known among the locals it caters to, and unless someone introduces you to the place it’s a well-kept secret around here.”

  “I can see how it could be. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight.”

  “Well, thanks for inviting me to dinner.”

  “Honestly, I hate eating alone. Besides, I wanted an opportunity to speak with you on a personal basis. There is one thing you’ll learn about me very quickly. I am brutally frank and always say what I’m thinking, and sometimes people take that as me being cocky and arrogant,” he pauses, and Wendy interrupts.

  “It’s not bad. I only see it as somewhat cocky. So tell me, how is the fund raising going for SERF?”

  “It’s going very well, and I believe the thirty million we’re shooting for in the first year will be reached in about ten months if things continue going as they are currently. But I didn’t ask you to dinner to discuss SERF.”

  Wendy pauses for a moment, deciding whether or not she should ask her next question. She isn’t sure if she really wants to hear Jim’s response, but then thinks, what the hell? Go for it. “So then why did you ask me to dinner?”

  “From our very first meeting, I have been attracted to you both physically and intellectually. I wanted to see if you are attracted to me as well.”

  “That’s certainly not what I expected to hear.”

  “Really,” he says, much more statement than question. “I think you were hoping that was the case, but it scares the hell out of you at the same time.”

  She snorts. “Okay, now I see why people consider your bluntness arrogance.”

  “I don’t think you believe that either. Look at it from my point of view. You asked me what cologne I was wearing the very first time we met. That’s not something most board members would ask a job applicant. You also asked the most penetrating and potentially damaging interview questions, which makes it seem like you want to know more about me. Look, I wasn’t sure I should pop into your office and ask you out, but I risked it because I believe getting to know you, regardless if we date or not, will be well worth the risk of looking foolish to you. Also, if I didn’t think you had at least some curiosity about me as well, I would have never attempted anything as risky as asking you out.”

  She sits for a moment in silence, eyebrow raised, then says, “I didn’t realize this was on official date.”

  He grins “Yes, you did, and it’s scary for both of us. But here we are. So the question now is, will there be a second date?”

  “Just how do you see a dating relationship developing between us given our respective positions with SERF?” Wendy asks.

  “Well, you’re a board member, not my boss. I would suggest we keep this our secret until we know whether or not this is something either of us wants to pursue on a more than casual basis. I would like to see where this goes without any real expectations, other than getting to know one another.”

  “Where do you anticipate this is going to lead us?”

  “At the bare minimum we’ll become better acquainted as business professionals. On the other hand, perhaps we become friends, or perhaps we become intimate and date seriously. I’m open to any of the possibilities, but it’s my hope this can develop into a serious relationship. I wouldn’t be so vulnerable with you otherwise. It’s my hope you will trust me enough to become vulnerable with me, as well, but if not, I’ll respect your decision as long as you can do the same for me. There is absolutely no pressure here, and if you tell me tonight you can’t, won’t, or aren’t interested in the same thing, I’ll accept it and we will have had a great dinner. Then we’ll just be business associates and friends.”

  Wendy is quiet for a long while. “That certainly is a lot to digest,” she finally says. “I find this to be very promising and believe I would like to get to know you better personally. The fact that I’m willing to even consider any of the possibilities with you, beyond just a professional relationship, scares me and excites me at the same time. You need to know that if we date, I’m not going to be an easy person to get to open up to you. You’ll need to be very patient, or we might as well just decide to be business associates to begin with. I don’t want to be pushed, and I don’t want anyone to know we are dating, either in my office or at SERF, understood?”

  Jim nods. “Absolutely. I promise to be discreet as long as you do.”

  “Perfect,” she says and fiddles with her fork. “Can we please talk about anything less personal now? This is starting to give me a headache.”

  He smiles and switches topics instantly. “What’s your favorite dessert on the menu, and would you like to share one? I don’t think I can eat much more.”

  “I think the prune cake is the best.”

  “The what?”

  “Prune cake,” she pauses, gauging his reaction, then chuckles. “I know. I had never had one either before I started eating here, but trust me it’s great.”

  He shrugs and says with a wink. “Very well. I haven’t been disappointed so far.”

  After little shivers of anticipation squirm through her, Wendy catches Rachelle’s eye and motions her to come over to the table.

  “What else can I get for you guys?” Rachelle asks.

  “We’d like a prune cake. And he thinks I’m crazy,” Wendy replies.

  Rachelle laughs. “I know, it sounds disgusting, but if you like prunes you’ll love it.”

  Wendy nods and adds, “With some whipped cream, too, please.”

  “Of course! I wouldn’t think of serving it any other way.”

  When Rachelle arrives with the dessert, Jim looks at it with apprehension. “It’s certainly not what I expected.”

  “Just try it,” Wendy chides.

  He sighs and takes a bite. Both Wendy and Rachelle recognize the pleased and surprised look on Jim’s face.

  “This is really, really good!” he says, scooping another bite onto his spoon.

  Wendy and Rachelle exchange a smile, and Rachelle leaves them to it.

  They finish dessert and Wendy drives Jim back to his car. They both get out and stand chatting for a few minutes. She thanks him for a wonderful evening, and they discuss when he will be back in San Diego, and also when she will be in Sausalito again. When Wendy opens her car door, Jim steps in and gives her a slow, gentle, extremely sensual kiss goodnight. They break apart and he holds the door for her, then closes it, gets into his car, and drives to his hotel.

  Wendy drives home and considers all that happened this evening. Jim’s perceptiveness about her frightens her, yet at the same time, it is strangely comforting. His kiss caused feelings and sensations within her she has suppressed for so long she wondered if they would ever return. She also quickly realizes there are solid reasons for her not to trust anyone, and frankly it would be easier for her to keep things that way. At this point, she’s frustrated. She knows that, in all reality, she longs for the type of companionship Jim described over dinner. His incredible kiss brought all that to light for her tonight, and she has no idea what she intends to do about it.

  CHAPTER 11

  results

  After the detectives leave her office, Wendy sits behind her desk analyzing their conversations and wonders if they suspect her story isn’t true in any way. After a few moments, she decides they won’t find any flaws. She goes over the details in her head one more time, just to be sure. She drove the back roads to Mike’s house so as not to be picked up on any street surveillance camera. Mike’s house and driveway are situated in a manner that provides maximum privacy, and she didn’t see any other neighbors arriving or leaving so unless someone saw her from inside their home she doubts she attracted any attention at all. She decides if confronted with evidence that she was, in fact, at Mike’s home, she’ll claim she lied because her behavior was unethical and she feared professional sanctions.

  Mona watches Wendy from the doorway for a few moments before she clear
s her throat and startles Wendy back to the present. “Excuse me for the interruption, but there is a smoking hot guy in the lobby asking for you, and he smells wonderful.”

  Surprise creases Wendy’s forehead. “Oh, really? Just who is this wonderful smelling man?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t give me his name. All he would say is that you will recognize him when you come out to meet with him.”

  “Well that’s horseshit! Go see what he is selling before I come out to meet him.”

  “Already asked. He says he isn’t selling anything except maybe a good dinner invitation.”

  “Well, now I’m intrigued. A dinner invitation from a great smelling, smoking hot guy. Okay, I’m coming.”

  Wendy walks out of her office and makes eye contact with the mystery man. She begins laughing.

  “Mona, I’d like you to meet Jim Bush. Jim is the Vice President of Business Development for Stevens Environmental Restoration Fund.”

  Jim shakes Mona’s hand and they exchange greetings. As Jim turns back to Wendy, Mona waves her hand in the air behind him, like his handshake burned it, and mouths, “Damn! He’s hot!”

  Wendy represses a laugh with effort, then turns her attention to Jim.

  “I’m in town speaking with some of Mark’s contacts on behalf of SERF, but I’ll be flying back to Sausalito tomorrow after my breakfast meeting. Since I’m in San Diego for the evening and it’s your town, I’ll buy dinner if you show me a good place to eat. What do you say?”

  Wendy smiles at him. “What kind of food do you like besides sushi? I should probably warn you, my tastes in dining aren’t nearly as sophisticated as Sean, Jessica, or Bonnie’s.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes then. I’m in the mood for a really different type of dining experience, as long as the food is good.”

  “Then I have the perfect place. So yes, I’ll have dinner with you tonight. I’ll drive and bring you back here to your car later. Mona, would you please call the place I took Jill the other night and see if you can get us a reservation on such short notice?”

  Mona snickers, picks up her phone, and works some magic to get them a reservation in thirty minutes.