A White Rose

by Bekah Ferguson

  She knew Jason was watching her, probably wondering if she was going to respond. But she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes again—not until these blasted tears stop threatening to escape. She wasn't used to feeling unguarded but he seemed to have a knack for exposing things that she liked to think weren't there.

  “You've already told me several times that you don't want a relationship with me,” she said finally, blinking at the leaf-strewn ground to dry her eyes. “But you've also told me that you think I'm physically attractive.” She met his eyes with a clear gaze, lifting her chin. “So, who's to say we couldn't have something good together?”

  His eyes softened as he searched her face. “The only thing preventing that,” he said evenly, “is our beliefs. Even if I wanted more than friendship, I couldn't have it. You wouldn't let me.”

  “You bet I would let you! I think I've made my feelings quite obvious in that regard.” She winked at him and leaned back on her palm.

  He hesitated. “That's not what I mean. I don't want just a sexual relationship with you—or anyone else, for that matter. That's what I've been trying to say all along.”

  “Yeah-yeah, I know, I know. Still—isn't this all a big waste of time? I don't intend to change my ways. We can be friends all you want, but let's face it—men and women can't be close friends in the same way same-sex friends can be—not without it eventually leading to more. Are you prepared for that?”

  He leaned forward, linking his fingers together between his knees. They held each other's gaze. “I wanted to see if you could like me as is,” he said, straightening his back and exhaling. He set his lips in a firm line and looked away, reaching for a stick. “At any rate”—he snapped the stick in half and tossed it away—“I refuse to lead you on, so trust me, we're just friends.”

  “But if I were to say, 'commit' to you, how do I know you wouldn't get bored of me in a couple of years and leave me for someone else?”

  Surprise lifted his brow. “Is that what you're afraid of? Rejection?”

  A breeze carried his cologne. How she wanted to run her fingers through his hair, kiss his earlobe… “Sure, who isn't,” she said flippantly, squaring her shoulders. “If I never fall in love, I'll never have a broken heart.”

  “I fell in love with someone a few years ago and asked her to marry me,” he said, eyes frank.

  Her breath caught in her throat and a curious ache tightened her stomach. She blinked. Jason had asked someone to marry him?

  “My whole life was set,” he went on. “But then she left me and I had to deal with that. It was tough.” He stood to his feet then and brushed off his pants. A smile. “That's my story and I'm sticking to it.” He packed the remnants of their lunch into the cooler and set it into the canoe.

  She didn't know what to say. She'd been using men all her life; how could she change now? Their differing beliefs stood between them like a gaping chasm. Did she want to fall in love with Jason? Maybe. But maybe it was her mind playing games. What kind of person would she be if she broke his heart just so to sleep with him a few times?

  Frowning, she pulled on her life jacket as Jason readied the canoe. When she climbed in, he passed her paddle forward; smiling as she turned to take it from him. She smiled back absently and balanced the paddle on her knees as she zipped up her jacket. A few minutes later, they were headed back the way they came, neither of them speaking much the rest of the journey back to the beach.

  She focused on the glassy waters mirroring the fall colors all around them. How could she keep up this friendship pretense? It just wasn't her thing. If Jason truly wasn't interested in romance, she'd have to take her losses and move on to someone else.

  Chapter 23

  The following Saturday morning, Dakota arose early and ate some raisin toast while reading the weekend paper. It was sunny but much too cold to sit outdoors. Winter was approaching. Leaves sprinkled the ground with orange and yellow after every gust of wind; trees looking skinny and sparse and gray without them. The dreaded chore of raking loomed over her weekends, lest the ground be a composted mess by spring. Then several long months of waiting would follow until she could enjoy her gardens again.

  She poured herself a coffee and sat down on a suede sofa facing the garden mural. It was nice to just sit there and stare at it in silence. But it also made her think of Jason, which was getting annoying. She felt like an obsessed teenager with an infatuated high school crush.

  Earlier that week, she'd surprised herself by called the therapist Jaelynn had recommended; and attended her first session Wednesday afternoon. It wasn't nearly as awkward as she'd expected it to be. Truth be told, it felt good to talk to someone about her mother; someone who didn't actually know her mother. And things were starting to look better. Though the gory memories were as stark as ever, they didn't seem to be as haunting as before. So Mona had killed herself, big deal. People killed themselves all the time. If she was that unhappy, it was probably for the best. Better than slowly dying from AIDS. Then again, Mona had only been HIV positive; it wasn't necessarily a death sentence.

  The phone rang then and Dakota headed for the kitchen as though rising from a stupor, grabbing the portable on the fourth ring.

  It was Tiffany.

  “Hey, Tiff, how ya bin?”

  “Su-per-r-rb,” came the sugary drawl across the line. “But where have you been? I've been calling for a month now and you keep putting me off. What's the dish, honey love? You keepin' stuff from me?” Tiffany laughed; a trilly chuckle which had a tendency to grate.

  Dakota summoned a phony laugh of her own. “I know, I'm sorry. Been really busy and needed a break—you know? But I am free tonight. Is that why you're calling?”

  “Yeah. Thought I'd try one more time before writing you off. I wanted to tell you about this great guy I met—I think you'll go nuts over him. He's so-o-o your type.”

  She laughed and absently fingered the talisman necklace hanging between her collarbones. “If he's so great, why're you saving him for me? You're not that generous.”

  “Be-ca-a-ause,” she said, “I've got a man right now, my sweet-cheeks. And you know I ain't into the ol' ménage à trois thing.”

  “Har-dee-har-har. Okay—so what do you have up your sleeve then?”

  “Dinner at The Keg. And I'm talking all formal like. We'll double date. And then, you know, depending on how dinner goes… ” her voice trailed off, leaving an obvious suggestion in the air.

  “Okay—who is he then? Tell me about him.” She leaned up against the counter top, a grin tugging at her lips.

  “His name is Alexandre Belmont. He's the”—an exaggerated French accent—“Chef de Cuisine at the Bistro by the Bay—you know, overlooking the water downtown?”

  “Really! Don't tell me he's the tall blond Frenchman.” An image came to mind of a lean, wavy-haired chef with an easy smile.

  Another trilly laugh. “Yes, love, that's him. Have you already met?”

  “No, ma'am. But I've certainly eyed him from a distance.”

  “Perfect. So, it's settled. The three of us will meet you inside the doors at seven thirty. Like I said, The Keg. Sound good?”

  “I'll be there.”

  “Oh—Dakota?”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Take a cab. That way we can drink to our heart's content—or at least be free to head to a club afterwards.”

  “Good idea.”

  Dakota replaced the phone on its receiver and headed back to the living room couch; retrieving her half-finished cup of coffee. She sipped the last few drops thoughtfully. Excitement stirred in her belly and the mural before her became just that—a painting of flowers. The image of Jason in her home dissolved as eager thoughts of Alexandre Belmont filled her mind's eye.

  A new conquest.

  After a month of spending every other weekend with Jason doing a whole lot of stuff—albeit, fun stuff—which didn't include sex—she was now going to meet a new man. An available man. And a good-looking one at th
at.

  Maybe this was the sign she'd been waiting for that it was time to move on. She wasn't willing to give up her love life indefinitely just to play friends with Jason for who knew how long. Nor was she willing to risk a long-term relationship with him either. She knew herself well enough to know she'd only use him in the end. It was better to move on now while the memories were still sweet.

  ***

  Dakota climbed out of the back seat of a cab and stood facing a restaurant with wood siding and a lengthy blue awning which fanned out across the low front windows. The night sky was dark against the towering floodlights pouring out over the parking area from the neighboring car dealership. Evergreens cast oblong shadows.

  As the cab drove off, she smoothed the black skirt of her ruched-front cocktail dress and the sleeves of her designer jacket. She tossed her coiffed curls over her shoulders and breathed in the crisp night air. She was dressed to the hilt, from black stiletto heels to pink taupe lipstick and silky granite eyelids. The makeup was so heavy it weighted her eyelids when she blinked. She would have to sip her drinks carefully and dab her lips with a napkin after each tiny bite to ensure her lipstick stayed put in its current state of perfection. Not exactly a fun way to eat dinner but these kind of dinner dates had nothing to do with the food and everything to do with the company.

  She went into the restaurant and waved at Tiffany who was standing waiting with a buff African American. Her latest boy toy, no doubt.

  As they were exchanging greetings, the doors swung open behind them and in walked Alexandre. Dakota recognized him immediately as she turned; and gave him a charming smile. “You must be Alexandre.”

  He grinned and took her hand in his, patting it affectionately. “Call me Alex.” He winked at Tiffany and turned back to Dakota. “You are even more beautiful than Tiffany has told me.” A French accent laced his words, making his tenor voice warm and welcoming like a steaming cup of cocoa on a cold winter's night.

  She averted her gaze in feigned shyness, delighting in his compliment.

  The hostess approached and led them to an intimate corner table with a burnt umber finish and matching chairs. The brimming restaurant was decorated with dark browns, maple and orange; golden lamps and dancing candlelights on each table. The aura was warm and romantic, muted lights sexy and seductive as she slid gracefully into a chair across from Alexandre.

  He was wearing a mocha wool sweater with ribbed neck and cuffs. Beneath one cuff was a gold link bracelet. His fingers were slender, strong and well-manicured. She met his classy smile with one of her own, liking the blond waves that brushed against the collar of his shirt.

  “So, Tiff tells me you're executive chef at Bistro by the Bay.”

  His deeply brown eyes held her gaze like an embrace. “Yes. It—is my baby.”

  “Do you own it?”

  He nodded. “My brother and I.” He reached for the wine list and gave it a studious once-over. A waitress approached and he ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to start them off.

  They chatted easily about common interests, Alexandre's restaurant, sailing. Tiffany and boy toy were so immersed in one another's gaze that after a few attempts at bringing them into the conversation, Dakota decided to outright ignore them; which was just as well, as Alexandre seemed pleased by her one-on-one interest in everything he had to say.

  Between sips of wine, she cut small bites from a mushroom-topped rib eye steak, while Alexandre devoured a, no-doubt, succulent sirloin. Over the next two hours, the four of them downed three bottles of wine.

  Dakota leaned in, meeting Alexandre's gaze with a bewitching one of her own. “What say we ditch these two love puppies?” She flicked a nod toward the couple next to them.

  He grinned. “Would you like to come to my place for dessert?” He leaned back, swallowing with satisfaction. His mouth curved in a half smile. “I have a flat overlooking the bay. The view is just spectacular.”

  A grin twitched her lips in response and she broke eye contact only long enough to tap Tiffany on the shoulder and say, “Hey, babe, Alex and I are going to head out now. We'll maybe catch you two later. Love ya!”

  She stood and pulled on her jacket, slipping a glittery purse over her shoulder. She took the outstretched hand Alexandre was offering as Tiffany mumbled a distracted good-bye.

  Having tossed a handful of bills on the table, Alexandre led Dakota to the front of the restaurant and called a cab on his Blackberry.

  ***

  Dakota stepped into Alexandre's condo ahead of him, gaze immediately drawn to the in-swinging glass doors overlooking Kempenfelt Bay; ten stories below. Beyond the doors was a curved balcony with metal railings fitted in glass, and what appeared to be a patio table set off to one side. Track lights in the spacious kitchen cast a dim streak across the living room carpet, highlighting the edges of an elegant couch set.

  Alexandre moved ahead and switched on an outside lantern. He pulled open a patio door and gestured for her to follow. Dakota reached the railing and peered down over the edge, woozy at the sight of pavement and parked cars so far below. She blocked out involuntary thoughts of falling to her death and instead focused straight ahead on the calm waters of the bay, which lay black and tranquil beneath a starry sky.

  Jagged light splayed out toward the bay's center from the marina ahead and the high-rise apartment and office buildings lining the shores to the north. The distant shores on either side were outlined by tree tops where the homes dwindled and grew scant. A half moon hung in the sky.

  Alexandre leaned on his forearms over the tall railing, a breeze ruffling his hair.

  “It's beautiful,” she whispered.

  His expression was peaceful as he stared straight ahead. “Yes, I adore it.”

  She gripped the railing, crisp wind slipping through her own hair. Her pulse picked up a notch. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? He was fun, good-looking and successful.

  A perfect catch.

  Of course she would sleep with him.

  Dakota rubbed the sleeves covering her arms. Her coat was thin; unable to hold in sufficient warmth. Alexandre glanced at her and straightened up.

  “Shall we go inside?” he said. “You seem cold.”

  He smiled and began rubbing her upper arms with affection. She gazed up at him with a smile of her own, speaking her desire through her eyes—a method of seduction she'd perfected years ago. He placed a warm palm against her cheek and leaned in.

  She closed her eyes as he kissed her, savoring the soft touch of his lips and drawing in his minty breath. Lust surged within her, arms tingling, and she kissed him harder.

  A gust of cold wind whipped through her hair.

  Shivering, she broke the kiss and stepped backward. Alexandre's eyes were darkened with passion. It was a look she'd seen countless times before. He took her hand in his and drew her indoors, pushing the patio door closed behind them.

  She slipped off her jacket and dropped it on a sofa as she followed Alexandre into his bedroom where he switched on a standing lamp. She took in the entire room in one sweeping glance. The centerpiece was a hardwood canopy bed with fine lines and a white duvet. A wide side window shared the same view as the balcony; and like the rest of the condo, the room spoke of precision in every detail. A black-ash dresser, nightstands and accent pillows offset the blankets and khaki-colored walls. Another standing lamp stood in a corner next to a leather armchair, and a recessed LCD TV faced the bed.

  Dakota slipped off her heels and stepped onto the plush carpet. Alexandre moved to her, wrapping his arms around her like they'd always been together. “I'll go prepare some dessert,” he whispered in her ear, kissing it. He left the room and she went to the window; gazing out at the distant waters.

  Trails of headlights moved around the “U” shape of the bay and a car horn blared—distracting her from the distant tree line. A private creek with glistening waters filled her mind's eye: ancient trees standing guard… a man with copper highlights lounging on a boulder
… a large black dog dreaming of tennis balls on a sunny patch of earth…

  She blinked away the memories, gripping the curls of her hair back into a ponytail. She took a deep breath and exhaled, pulling her hands free. The hair tumbled down around her shoulders and settled back into place.

  Muttering a cuss, she left the window view and touched a canopy pole, contours smooth and cool beneath her sliding fingertips. “Why did you have to be so wonderful, Jay?” she breathed, an ache forming in her throat. Was she actually in love with Jason? It didn't matter. She was never going to be with him because she refused to commit to him. And even then, it wasn't like he was standing by waiting for her. He had explained plainly enough that friendship was his only offer.

  Muffled footsteps sounded on the carpet and she turned to face Alexandre who was holding a laden tray. He was so handsome. A little narrow in the face and nose perhaps, but captivating nonetheless.

  She smiled up at him sweetly, taking the proffered glass of Port and a dish of what appeared to be caramel custard.

  Chapter 24

  Jason poured freshly-brewed coffee into two molded coffee mugs whose origin had always been a mystery. Perhaps they were Christmas gifts of long ago or an impulse purchase at a yard sale. Tacky but well-loved. He reached for a box of Walkers shortbread cookies from the cupboard and headed back to the living room where Jaelynn was sitting on a plaid sofa which resembled the print on the cookie box. Bear was sprawled across it, his scruffy head in her lap. She took a mug from Jason and breathed in its steam comically, making him laugh.

  “Calm down,” he said. “It's only decaf.”

  She shot him a glare. “You jerk!”

  He laughed again. “Hey—it's midnight—you want to stay up all night or what?”

  She shook her head in disgust and took a sip. “Hand me a cookie immediately if you care to redeem yourself.”