Letting You In

by Nora Flite

The doors opened, so I followed her to the car, trying to keep pace. “It's just that it's getting late, and if you have that date tonight, we should try to beat the traffic so you can get back in time to get ready.”

  Oh god, the date with Deacon, I was so distracted I forgot! My blood raced, I was grateful when we pulled the car out into the open air. With the roof down in the convertible, I closed my eyes, worked at calming myself. “Right, you're right. I don't even know what I'm going to wear, I'm not sure where he's taking me.”

  “I'm sure it'll be fine, whatever it is,” she said, sounding far less interested in the situation than her actions implied.

  As we drove along, the wind tossing my hair, drying the nervous sweat on my neck, I wondered what Vanessa was thinking. Despite everything, her new friendliness, her recent honesty, I still felt...

  I still felt like she didn't want me going on this date at all.

  Chapter 11.

  My phone beeped with an incoming message, the sound startling me so I nearly dropped it.

  Holding it close, I read the words Deacon had sent, my lips spreading in a wide smile. “He said he'll be here soon.” Looking up, I stared at Vanessa in the mirror, watching her helping me tie the back of my dress up. “Oh god,” my expression switched to fear, “soon. What does soon mean? Am I going to be ready in time?”

  “Yes,” she scoffed, stepping back, cracking her neck. “You're done, turn and check yourself out.”

  On shaking legs, legs that were perched in borrowed shoes that were luckily not too tall for me to walk in, I gave a careful spin. She'd graced me with another outfit she'd created, a dress that was flowing in white, the back laced up where it met with a choker style neck-tie. It was cute, and made me feel almost sexy.

  Though, after seeing all those models, I kind of feel a little dumpy.

  But, not willing to admit this, I beamed a grin at Vanessa. “It's beautiful, you're seriously amazing.”

  “Thanks, I think he'll like it. I have Deacon pegged as the sweet, innocent type, so white might win him over.” Her words still felt flat, false, to me. “Anyway, if he'll be here soon, I should go.”

  “Go?”

  “Yeah, I'll stay at Greg's tonight. You know, in case you need the privacy.”

  My cheeks burned like coals, my hair rustling as I shook my head quickly. “No, no! Vanessa! It isn't like that!”

  “Whatever,” she sighed, waving a hand, walking from her bedroom, the one place with a full length mirror. “Just don't do anything in my bed.”

  “Vanessa!” I squealed, humiliated by her implication. I would never... not in her bed, especially! Following her to the front door, I chewed the side of my lip, watching her grab her purse. “Really, you don't have anything to worry about.”

  Leaning on the door, she lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “No? You're not hoping something will happen?”

  That halted me, my insides rolling so hard I thought I might be sick. I didn't need to say anything, the answer was clear on my stunned, guilty face. Vanessa gave me a knowing smile, digging in her purse, tossing something to me. “Here, take this to be safe.”

  The pack of foil rustled in my hands, when I saw what I held I almost threw it back at her. “Vanessa! I don't need a condom! I'm just going out with the guy!”

  “And I'm just looking out for you. My guess is you didn't bring any of those, also, I have no clue if Deacon would try and take it that far with you, but why not be prepared?”

  I bit back my argument, stuffing the condom into my purse as deep as possible. “You really think he might go for that on a first date?”

  “Honestly?” She lifted her hands, as if to say 'who knows?' “I don't think that's his style, his last girlfriend was sort of... Look, I mean, I already warned you, I have him pegged as plain, unseasoned white bread. You'll probably find him boring, if you ask me, and I know the both of you.”

  She says she knows us, but can she really make that kind of call? Frowning, my shoulders slumped as something else came to my mind. “His last girlfriend, you keep mentioning her. What was she like?” Blonde, a singer, wasn't that it?

  Vanessa seemed to be deciding if she should answer me, but before she could try, someone knocked on the door, making both of us jump. “Oh,” she said, “that's probably him.”

  My palms were sweating, so I rubbed them over my hips, wishing my heart would stop pounding. She turned the knob, revealing Deacon on the doorstep, his smile as bright as ever. “Hello there,” he said pleasantly, looking over myself and Vanessa. “Oh! I thought I was only taking one girl out tonight?”

  She rolled her eyes, shooting a look at me as she squeezed past him, through the door. “Right. I'm off, Greg is waiting. You kids have fun and behave.”

  “I'll have her home by ten,” he answered, nodding at Vanessa. The whole situation made me grin helplessly, her steps fading down the walkway quickly. Deacon turned back to me, I was dazzled by how put together he was for this.

  I guess I should really thank Vanessa, I thought this outfit might be too much, but he looks so classy.

  Dressed in dark slacks, a matching vest that he wore over a long sleeved blue button-down, it was all partially hidden by a dark brown tweed jacket. Deacon was so clean cut and handsome, I was beginning to stare too much. Even his shoes are shined!

  “You look really nice,” the words exploded from me, my face warming with redness.

  “Thanks, but I think I'm supposed to say that first.” Lifting a hand, he reached for mine, guiding me out the door. I shut it behind us absently. “Ready to go?”

  “Y—yes,” I stuttered, distracted by how my palm felt in his. His skin is really soft!

  Deacon gave me an amused smile, making me wonder if he noticed how anxious I was. Yet, he only helped me down the walkway, my heels clopping sharply on the stone. “Will you be able to move in those for awhile?”

  “What?” I blinked, looking down at the shoes I had borrowed. The memory of our piggyback ride, his arms wrapped around my thighs as my shoes dangled off my drunken fingers made me glow in embarrassment. “Uh, yes, these will be fine.”

  “Good,” he chuckled, watching me with those melting eyes of greenish gold. “Because we have a long night ahead of us.”

  He led us to his car, my heart surely beating louder than my heels on the pavement.

  ****

  The city at sunset was beautiful.

  We rolled gently through a curving road, a long stretch that wound through the upper hills of Hollywood, giving me a view unlike any other of the world below. My head was hanging out the window, making Deacon laugh at how little I cared about my hair getting messed up after all of Vanessa's work. It was easy to forget how nervous I was about being with him on this date with the stunning views along Mulholland Drive. I decided it was one of my favorite places right away, informing Deacon with a wide grin.

  “Your favorite, really? So quickly?” He asked, glancing at me as he steered.

  “Yes! It's really lovely, I bet it's even prettier when it's darker, and the lights down there stand out even more. Kind of like stars, I guess a sort of substitute.”

  He laughed loudly, shaking his head without looking at me. “I guess so, yeah. I never thought of it that way. I wish we could stay, I'd pull the car over so we could watch that happen.”

  I wish we would do that, I would love it, I thought plaintively.

  “But,” he continued, “we have dinner plans, we shouldn't be late.”

  “Oh, where are we going?”

  “I can't tell you, but I hope you like it.”

  “I'm sure I will,” I said, settling back in the seat, fiddling with my dress hem. Wherever we go is fine with me, I'm just excited this is even happening! I'd given up fighting with myself over the idea of seeing where things would go with Deacon Day. My fears may have been valid, but battling with my desire, my gut instinct, it seemed useless when I had already come this far. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

  Not
letting myself think about it, I looked outside at the fading sun, enjoying the weaving ride.

  Eventually we pulled into a more robust area, businesses and busy streets all around. Deacon seemed a little stressed as he looked for parking, his jaw tense, knuckles white. I noticed it far too easily, it caused a cold pit to form in my belly.

  Calm down, everything is fine.

  Someone cut in front of him, so he slammed a hand on his horn, shouting out the window. My fingers gripped my knees, neck aching from how wound up I was becoming. Relax, relax, it's fine. He isn't angry at you! The situation, being trapped in a small space with someone boiling with rage, it reminded me of Owen instantly.

  Please breathe, please breathe.

  The car stopped, making me look up to see we had parked in a small lot. “Sorry about that,” Deacon muttered, looking my way with frustration still in his voice. “California drivers, they're all trying to get somewhere too fast.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed uneasily, the back of my neck damp. Just calm down already, don't ruin this. You're tougher now, remember? I wondered, though, as we stepped into the refreshing night air, if I actually was.

  Together, we walked out of the lot, around one of the bigger buildings. What lay on the other side made my eyes widen, my gasp soft, yet loud enough that Deacon must have heard.

  We stood on the side of a brick street, blocked off so no traffic could enter. All around, trees covered in lights decorated the sidewalks. Lined with small shops, big stores, full of laughing people and music from street entertainers, it was like a hidden bazaar.

  Deacon's smile was proud, his eyes twinkling from me to our surroundings. “Do you like it?”

  “It's... I've never seen anything like it! Where are we?”

  “The south street promenade, it's a neat little area. Come on, we're eating down this way.” He started walking to the right, so I followed as best I could with my attention darting around at every little sight or sound. Moving beside Deacon, I shouldered my purse, watching him slow his pace to stay beside me. Our hands swung between us, close, not quite touching.

  Walking like that, moving together with the firefly style tree lights, the sound of violins mixed with drums, a strange combination that somehow seemed fitting for my mood, I felt fantastic. The blood in my ears pounded, my attention focusing on how easily I could have interlocked my fingers with his, if I only moved my arm just enough.

  “Here,” he said, pausing on the corner. “This is the place.”

  Shaken from my moment of bliss, anxious over how close I had come to doing such a simple, but deliberate act of affection, I lifted my head, gazing at the place we were to eat.

  Quaint, probably only able to sit thirty people, the restaurant sat in the middle of the street. Tall outdoor heaters circled it, a covered structure that had to be the kitchen making the whole place seem the size of Vanessa's apartment. It was adorable, but more importantly, romantic.

  If we eat here, everyone can see us sitting together. Did he do that on purpose? Glancing at Deacon, I wondered if his honest grin and honey eyes could give me a hint about what he was thinking. He asked me out, he has to like me, doesn't he? Doesn't he?

  His hand touched the small of my back, causing me to startle with his gentle touch. “This way,” he explained, leading me over the crowded cobble stone towards the restaurant. The contact was far too brief, I felt the pressure where his fingers had been long after he removed them.

  Next, he pulled out my chair for me. I'm still not used to that. “Thanks,” I said, settling, looking across the small table at him. “Have you, uh, have you been here before?”

  “Not exactly,” he laughed, looking up as a waiter approached. “It's a pop-up restaurant, they open for just a week or two, they change constantly.”

  I wanted to ask more, but the young man who appeared showed us a winning row of teeth, handing us menus. “Welcome to the Circle, can I get you two something to drink?”

  Deacon folded his hands together, looking over them at me. “Feel like some wine?”

  “Sure,” I said, trying not to stare at him too obviously. His face, in the low light from the evening, lit only by the candles and tree lights, was particularly intoxicating with its sharp shadows.

  The waiter nodded, scribbling in a small pad of paper. “Great, we have a wonderful red tonight. I'll just need your ID's, please.”

  My date slid his wallet out quickly, they both waited for me as I dug into my purse. My fingers grazed something, sharp edged but small. Peering into my bag, I spotted the condom at the bottom, feeling my embarrassment flicker. Dammit, Vanessa. Reaching past it, I found my license, holding it out to the waiter.

  “Huh,” he said, looking surprised before he offered it back to me. “We don't get many people from Rhode Island out here.”

  I could feel Deacon's eyes on me, I knew what was coming once the waiter had wandered away with our drink order.

  “So,” he started, hunching forward, lifting an eyebrow in my direction. “Rhode Island, then. I was wondering when I would find out where you were from. I couldn't place your accent.”

  “I don't have an accent,” I said defensively, sliding down in my chair as if to become smaller.

  “You definitely do. Worse than mine,” he said with a playful smile. “Sorry, maybe I'm teasing too much. I just didn't know why you were keeping it some big secret.”

  “It's not like that, I'm not trying to keep secrets.” It was just another lie to add to my collection by that point.

  Deacon tilted his head, clearly not believing me. Maybe he was being polite, he didn't push it further. “What's it like there?”

  “Cold.”

  “Cold?” He asked, surprised by my fast answer.

  “Yeah, it's cold there.” My head buzzed, memories of my old apartment with its chilly floors filling it. “Especially right now, with fall and all that.” I found myself staring at my hands on the table, thinking about things I didn't want to remember. Peeking up, seeing Deacon watching me intently, I brushed my hair behind my ears, hurried on. “Never mind, tell me about Kentucky. Is it all chickens and things?”

  His mouth twitched, one fist propping his head up. “Chickens? Do you think we all live on farms?”

  “Well, did you?”

  “Not me, but my grandparents did.”

  “Oh, so it isn't like, some backwater country thing.”

  “Oh no, it is,” he said, suddenly serious. “Just corn everywhere, completely covering everything. It's a mess, really.”

  Covering my mouth, I giggled at him until he finally grinned back. “Speaking of corn, maybe we should look at these menus before our waiter gets back with our drinks. We're still supposed to order food.” Deacon waved a hand, flipping the menu front to back doubtfully.

  “Well, I guess that is what restaurants are made for.”

  Together, we browsed the short list of items. There weren't many options, I guessed it had something to do with being a 'pop-up' or whatever. I had to admit, it was really neat. Sitting there with the open air, watching strangers wander past in various clothing and hairstyles, it was like being in the middle of our own private show.

  The waiter walked up with two glasses of liquid, crimson as cherries. “Our Sunvalley Merlot, very popular.”

  “Thanks,” I said, taking mine, giving it a sip. It was tart, my mouth pinching from the flavor. Oh, ugh, is this what fancy wine is like? I saw Deacon watching me, so I forced a smile. “Mm, it's really good.”

  He seemed pleased, so I set it aside, more interested in ordering my meal. I ended up with a creamy potato soup, Deacon picking a pork burger that sounded delicious. Then we were alone again, or as much as we could be among all the wandering shop goers. “So,” he started, “how long are you staying in California?”

  It was a question I wasn't sure how to answer. Stalling, I made myself swallow more of the burgundy wine. “Oh, well, I guess it depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  H
is eyes were kind, there was no rudeness in his words. Actively trying to ease the tension in my shoulders, I inhaled slowly. On if I run out of money. “On if I can find work or not.”

  Deacon nodded, acting like he understood. “Yeah, that's how it goes. It took me some time to find anything out here that paid enough to live in California.”

  “What did you do, live on your savings?”

  He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Kind of. My grandparents really helped me out. Without them, I would have had to move back to Kentucky a few months after college ended.”

  Yes, that must have been useful, people who could help. My mouth tasted funny, it was hard not to feel jealous of his support group. “That's really nice of them.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, smiling fondly, his eyes staring to the side, making me wonder what pleasant memory he was reliving.

  I shouldn't be so resentful, it's wonderful he had people to help him. It's probably why he's so nice and caring now.

  “I have a job interview tomorrow,” I said abruptly, my voice rising with the news.

  “Really! That's great! Doing what?” He seemed so elated, I felt a little ashamed confiding the position.

  “It's just to be an intern, but the guy who offered it to me said it was paid.”

  “Still, a job is a job, right? If you get it, you'll be staying?” He was so sincere, watching me with those wonderful eyes. My chest felt constricted, full of air, making me struggle to breathe all at once.

  “Yeah, yeah, for sure. There's no guarantee I'll get it though, I mean, I'm hardly cut out to work in fashion.” Oh god, did that sound too defeatist? What if he thinks I'm pessimistic now! There was no time to correct myself, the moment vanished as the food arrived.

  My soup was steaming, the savory scent making my head swim. The creamy broth was full of potatoes and carrots, of which I took a liberal mouthful. Like velvet on my tongue, I closed my eyes to languish in the taste. Oh my god, this is the most amazing soup!

  “Is it good?” Deacon made me open my eyes. He was staring at me, walking the line between interest and gratification.