You're Dangerous

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You're Dangerous Page 7

by Casey McMillin


  "I don't mind the idea, I just don't have a car yet, and Common Grounds is within walking distance of my house."

  She was red in the face and utterly mortified to admit to rich, beautiful, powerful Jason Lane that she didn't have a car, but she wasn't about to lie to him again when she already felt like a fool for doing so the first time.

  "Oh, it's about the ride? Shit girl, why didn't you just say so? I'll pick you up for dinner tomorrow night at seven. Just text your address to this number when we hang up, and I'll see you then, okay?"

  "Okay, I guess." Hannah said.

  "What do you mean, you guess?"

  "I just mean I didn't really have time to think about it or anything, but I guess I'm okay with giving my home address to a total stranger with the intention of getting into his car to go to an undisclosed location."

  "Oh, come on, I'm not a total stranger," he said. "You know I like Tom Waits. How bad could I be?"

  "Nothing's an atheist and he likes Tom Waits," she said.

  "Nothing's not so bad," he said.

  "I know."

  "He's the one who gave me your phone number."

  "He is?"

  "I had to give him fifty dollars, but yes."

  She cracked up. "Are you serious?"

  "Totally."

  "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

  "Yes you will Hannah Garrison. Don't forget to text me your address."

  They said goodbye and she hung up the phone. She went to the couch, put her face in a pillow, and squealed. Then she gave herself a few minutes to process everything before she went outside to catch up with Taylor. She told her the watered down version of everything—that Jason saw and liked her art, and she was having dinner with him to discuss some work she might do for him. She left out all of the flirting that had gone on by both of them, mostly because she knew it wouldn't amount to anything and she didn't want to seem hopeful.

  ****

  Hannah had to work as a cook the next morning. It was super busy, and she was stinky and exhausted by the time she got off at 1PM. Even though she was sick of the food by the end of her shift, she ate a small lunch at work before she headed home. She showered before falling onto her bed for a much needed nap.

  It was after five o'clock when she woke up. She'd slept for more than three hours, and felt like she was in the twilight zone for at least thirty minutes when she woke up. Hannah had no idea what in the world she was going to wear to dinner with Jason. She stared blankly into her closet as her eyes drifted over her clothes.

  Her phone rang. It was Sam asking if she wanted to come to the house for dinner. She thanked him for the offer, but told him she had plans. He didn't ask what her plans were. He just told her there'd be leftovers in the fridge if she wanted any. She thanked him again and they hung up.

  Again, she went to her closet. She chose to wear one of her favorite outfits… a funky little floral dress with some grey tights and turquoise flats. She was reasonably sure none of his rich girlfriends would touch any of her clothes with a ten-foot pole, but she felt good in it, and figured she'd be comfortable and hope for the best. Hannah had dark brown hair that she wore in a chin length bob with messy layers that fit her personality perfectly. It had gotten really short at one point thanks to Molly and her beauty school aspirations, but it was starting to grow out again, and Hannah liked where it was.

  Jason knocked on the door to her apartment at seven o'clock on the dot, and Hannah's stomach dropped to the point where she actually considered pretending not to be home. Obviously, she didn't do that.

  She opened the door. He was holding one single flower, which he held out for her to take. It looked like one of the Black-eyed Susans that Mrs. Culbertson kept in the flowerbed by the driveway.

  "Did you pick this out of my yard?" she asked.

  He looked over his shoulder in mock confusion. "Is that your yard right down there?" he asked motioning down the stairs.

  "Yeah, that little patch of green between where you parked and this door," she clarified jokingly.

  "Oh, yeah, then, I picked it out of your yard."

  She took it from him and held it to her chest like it was the most romantic thing she'd ever seen. "It's wonderful," she said. She studied him with an earnest expression for a second before continuing, "Seriously, it's wonderful. I heard you were some big deal, and I was really nervous about you coming over here. Picking a flower out of my yard and bringing it up here to me was about the best thing you could have done."

  "I'm glad you like it," he said. He stepped across the threshold even though she hadn't exactly invited him in. He was larger than life, and she wasn't sure if that's because she knew he was sort of famous or if he was just that beautiful. He looked and smelled like heaven in his faded jeans and broken in button up shirt, and she felt suddenly shy about having him in her little garage apartment.

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked.

  "I was thinking we could grab some pizza at 12th & Porter. I sort of said I'd try to make it to a friend's release party."

  She found herself feeling a little uncomfortable with the prospect of meeting new people, and hoped she could relax enough to have a good time. "I've heard of that place, but never been there." she said.

  "I'm not sure if you'll like the band, but it should be interesting either way."

  "Why would I not like it?" she asked. She was wondering if he somehow knew she didn't like country music. She looked around for something that could have given her away, but of course there was no I hate country music digest on the counter or anything.

  Jason smiled, thinking of his friend's band. He'd seen them a few other times, and always had a good time, but it was an experience, to say the least. "He plays in a Ska band. Do you know what that is?"

  "Sort of reggae, like with horns and everything?" she asked, smiling at the thought of going to a Ska concert.

  "Exactly," Jason said. "My friend plays the drums, but their band has horns for sure."

  Hannah was extremely excited about checking out a Ska concert—especially with someone who looked like Jason.

  "I like it in here," he said, looking around.

  "Me too."

  "How'd you find the place?"

  "My dad was in the Navy with the man who lives here. Our families have been close since I can remember. I grew up in Sparta, which is an hour and a half from here in the sticks, but we came up here at least once a year."

  "Are you going to Belmont? Is that why you moved here?"

  "Maybe eventually, but I just moved to move. You know, get a job, try something new, get away from Sparta."

  "How do you like it so far?"

  "I'm living the dream," she said. "I know that probably doesn't make sense to someone like you since I work at a coffee shop and have to ride a city bus if I want to go anywhere, but I'm loving it here, and really think I have a lot of possibilities."

  He was listening to her as he walked around her apartment looking at the artwork she had hanging on the walls. "I'm officially a fan of your artwork, Hannah. I can't wait to get you started on a couple of projects."

  "I thought that was the whole point of going to dinner," she said. "If you hire me right now, we'll be done, and I'll miss out on my pizza."

  He gave her a sly smile. "You're coming out with me regardless of when I hire you," he said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're already hired anyway. We just need to talk about what you'll be drawing."

  She looked at him defiantly and crossed her arms. "What if I don't want the job?" she asked.

  He smiled confidently like he was thinking, how cute, she actually thinks she can deny me. The confidence in his expression was mesmerizing, and she tried to remind herself that he was a mere mortal like her.

  "You're a businesswoman, aren't you?" he asked. "You wouldn't turn down a reasonable business offer just because I caught you in a lie."

  Without thinking, she gave him a little straight jab to the shoulder, which he mostly dodged. "Stop talking
about that," she said. "I already told you I was sorry about it."

  "Fair enough, fair enough," he said, laughing "but we never got down to the bottom of why you did it in the first place. I don't think it was random since the name of my song was on there."

  She looked him in the eye with a pleading, embarrassed expression. "Can we not talk about this? It's really embarrassing me right now." She paused for a second but then went right on talking "I don't know why I drew it. It was no big deal. I draw lots of things. I guess I just didn't think you would figure it out or maybe I knew you would and didn't think you would care enough to say anything about it or whatever, I don't know."

  "My friend Nick figured it out, actually. But he would have never seen it if I wouldn't have cut it out and put it on my desk in the first place." He paused, reached up, and gently touched the side of her face. Hannah flinched ever so slightly, but otherwise she was completely still—barely even breathing. "She looks just like you," he whispered, studying her face.

  She was transfixed by the way he looked at her, but did her best to seem unaffected.

  "That's the reason I know you'll be great at the first project I have for you."

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "You'll see."

  Chapter 9

  The Shifty Seven had just finished their last song when Hannah excused herself to go to the restroom. She knew Jason was planning on catching up with his friend, and she wanted to give them a little space to do so. When she came out of the restroom, she could see that Jason was standing with a big group of people that included most or all of the band members. She'd been talking to Jason for the last two hours, so she decided to look at a few fliers on the wall while they did their thing.

  Not even a minute into her timewasting effort, she was startled by the touch of a hand on her arm. "Hey, come on. I want you to meet these guys," Jason said.

  She followed him to the group of about ten or twelve people who were all standing around near the stage.

  "This is the girl I was just telling you guys about—the artist." Jason said. Several of them reached out a hand to greet her. She was dumbfounded by the introduction and all the attention. Then Jason turned to her and spoke, and it all came together. "This is your first project," he said. "It's a band T-shirt. You'll obviously have photos to work from, but I wanted you to meet them all in person so you could see their personalities." He looked around at the group. "Raise your hand if you're in the band, and Hannah will come around and get a good look."

  "I'd like Hannah to get a good look at me," said one of the guys who wasn't even in the band. Jason shot him a look like he might not like the results if he said anything more.

  Hannah started off into the group to look at some faces, starting with the person nearest her who had their hand up.

  "You can all put your hands down," she announced. "I'd like to take a picture with each of you too, so I can see how tall each of you are compared to me. Jason, would you take the pictures and email them to me later?"

  "Sure," he said.

  She could tell he was sort of surprised that she had taken the reins and she made a silly face and stuck out her tongue. He just smiled back at her like he'd never met a girl like her in all his life.

  She couldn't think of a better way to meet people. She was absolutely in her comfort zone with analyzing them as characters, and because of that, she made easy conversation with all of them.

  "Do you guys want your instruments in the picture with you? If so, I need you to get them out so I can get a look at them."

  They all looked around at each other like none of them had the slightest notion about whether or not they wanted their instruments in it.

  "Why don't we just get them in the picture in case you decide to have me draw them?" she said.

  Everyone in the band took a photo with their instruments and Hannah. She asked them each a few questions, and by the time they left there, she felt like she'd made seven new friends and was extremely excited about starting the drawing.

  "They were all really nice," she said on the way home. She was sitting in the passenger's seat of a sporty, black BMW that probably cost more than her parents' house. She chose not to think about how rich he was even though the evidence was everywhere. "I can't wait to get to work on the drawing. It may be next week because I'm doing the chalkboards at work this weekend."

  "Oh that's right, Michael told me about that."

  "He did?" That seemed like an odd bit of information for Michael to give someone like Jason, but she didn't ask anything else about it.

  He nodded, shrugging the topic of Michael off and focusing back on the band. "They're not in a hurry," he said. "They didn't even know I was hiring you to do it until we talked to them just now."

  "Really? Why are you hiring me and not them?" she asked.

  "Because I owe Trip a favor, and I knew you'd be perfect for their band."

  Hannah hoped he didn't consider it charity, but she didn’t voice her concern. She was having too much fun to start being insecure. She decided she'd just call it a job, and not care who was paying her.

  Jason said he was going to give her three hundred dollars for the job, which she agreed to even though she never thought she would get that much.

  They passed Common Grounds on the way back to Hannah's house. It was a half-hour before closing time, and she tried to look inside as they passed so she could see who was working.

  "Do you want to stop by there?"

  "What, you mean right now?"

  "Yeah, why not? We didn't have dessert yet."

  Hannah felt something akin to hope at the invitation because it made her feel like it was more of a date than a business meeting, but she knew that was silly, so she chose to decline. Plus, word would get around that she'd come in with him, and she'd feel bad for all the other girls at work who'd be jealous.

  "I'm good, thanks, though. I have some Haagen-Dazs in the freezer."

  They made it to her apartment less than a minute later. He pulled up behind Sam's truck, put the car in park, and turned the ignition off. He looked over at her from over the console, and she smiled.

  "Thanks again for the show, and the job, and for introducing me to your friends," she said.

  "Aren't you going to invite me in for some Haagen-Dazs?" he asked. He looked at her with a deadpan expression, which made a wave of gut-wrenching excitement hit her again.

  "I ate out of the pint," she said.

  "What?"

  "The Haagen-Dazs. I ate right out of the pint last time and then put it back."

  He narrowed his eyes at her. "You should have just kept that information to yourself since I would have never known. Did you spit in it or something?"

  "Uhh, gross, no. I just wanted to be honest with you that I think my ice cream has been tainted. She stared into space like she was remembering something. "Oh, wait, never mind. I think I might have eaten the rest of it the other night. I might not have ice cream after all—not even the tainted kind."

  "Want to go get some?"

  She thought about it and really wanted to say yes, but something inside just wouldn't let her throw caution to the wind. "You're really sweet for asking, but no. I'm gonna let you get back to your evening. I'm sure you have a lot going on. Didn't you say you were going to Vegas tomorrow?"

  "Yeah, but there's nothing for me to do besides throw some clothes into a bag."

  She knew a person like him didn't have any business being in her little garage apartment just to hang out. She was fairly certain he was the type of guy who was with a lot of girls, and while she wanted to flirt with him and maybe even daydream about winning him over, she wasn't quite ready to hop on his list of random one-night stands.

  "I, uh I'm not quite sure how to say this because I know it was me who sort of flirted with you in the first place with the drawing and everything—but there's really nothing to do up there besides play Mario Kart or listen to music or whatever."

  He laughed. "You think I'm t
rying to sleep with you?" he asked.

  She was slightly offended at the way he thought the idea was hilarious, but really, he was just fake laughing. He didn't find the idea hilarious at all. He wanted to sleep with her all right. He wanted to do things to Hannah Garrison that could get him in trouble in most states.

  "You don't have to laugh at the idea," she said. "I just couldn't understand why someone like you would just want to hang out at my apartment."

  "I love Mario Kart," he said.

  She gave him a skeptical glare.

  "What? I do. Invite me up. I promise I won't try to sleep with you."

  "Oh, you already made that clear with the way you cracked up at the idea."

  He reached over the console and took her by the jaw, turning her to face him. He was wearing a serious expression. "I want to sleep with you Hannah, make no mistake about that. I'm just not going to try out of respect for you. If you're wondering why I want to hang out, it's because I'm having fun with you, and don't act like that surprises you because you know how cool you are." He took his hand off her jaw and put it on her forearm. She felt an intense jolt of electricity at the contact, and she cursed herself for being so dang attracted to him.

  "I'll play a few rounds of Mario Kart," he said. "Not enough to embarrass you or anything, but enough to show you who's boss—then I'll leave and let you get back to your evening."

  She considered and then shrugged one shoulder. "I guess a little Mario Kart couldn't hurt, but I hate to get your spirits down right before you go to Vegas, because I'm not gonna take it easy on you."

  He closed his eyes, loving the smacktalk and playing along with it. "Oh poor girl. I feel like I need to say I'm sorry in advance for what's about to happen right now."

  She opened the door but looked at him before getting out of the car.

  "You coming?"

  "You know it."

  They played Wii for the next hour. He rarely played video games anymore even though Cam had a dream set up at his apartment. Jason had forgotten how much fun it was. Or maybe it was just that his company was fun. Either way, the hour felt more like ten minutes.

 

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