Chapter Four

Prevailing Winds

Fortunately, when I get home, Auggie’s nowhere to be found. I don’t think I could handle facing him right now. What would I tell him? I’m not even sure how I feel about today’s events. Would he even believe me?

I have a few hours until I have to be at work. It’s probably a good idea to stay off my ankle as much as possible, so I decide on a nice long bubble bath. I put my iPhone music on shuffle and settle in for a relaxing soak. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to relax in the aromatic scents that permeate the air.

My mind is clear and I begin to sort the events of this morning into logical perspective. A handsome, wealthy, successful man came to the aid of an injured stranger on the beach. Any man with a good moral compass would have done the same thing. He entertained me, fed me, and gave me shelter until I was well enough to leave. Again, signs that indicate he is a gentleman and a generally kind person. Then again, he was definitely flirting with me, big time. But ... he didn’t ask me for my number or even my last name. The final verdict? I met a nice stranger today who showed me kindness and compassion and I should not make any more of it than it actually was.

The music shuffles and another P!nk song starts playing so I lie back in the tub to enjoy. The song is called, “Try”, and this time when I hear it, I truly listen to the lyrics. Okay – now I’m recalculating my conclusions. There was definitely a desire, and I think we both felt it. I’ve had my heart broken before and it hurt, but it didn’t destroy me. If I see Evan again, should I try? Maybe. The good thing is I don’t have to decide right now.

It’s Wednesday night and the bar is full. Emmy, Derek and I are behind the bar on the patio again. The DJ is playing a good mix of music and I find myself dancing behind the bar as I wait on my customers. My ankle is strong and sure, thanks to the healing touch of my knight in shining armor. With each new song, the three of us really begin to enjoy ourselves. The tip jar is getting fuller, which encourages us on.

Derek doesn’t need any help to fill up his tip jar. He’s tall, nearly six feet tall, and is built like a runner. Not afraid to flirt with the women, he draws crowds and keeps them coming back. A nice dance mix comes on, and Derek whisks me into his arms. He’s lithe and graceful on his feet. At the end of our song, Derek gives a bow, I give a curtsey, and we receive a rousing round of applause from our customers.

One of the head bartenders makes his way through the crowd and waves me over to him. “Juliette, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.” I hope I’m not in trouble for getting carried away behind the bar. I immediately panic and imagine the worst – Jack, the bar manager, is displeased with me and I’m in trouble.

“That’s okay. I don’t think we’ve met yet, actually. I’m Marcus. This was just delivered here for you and I wanted to try and find you.” He hands me a large box imprinted with the name of a flower delivery service. I thank Marcus, open the box, and tucked inside are a dozen bright orange Gerbera Daisies. There’s a card with a short hand-written message.

“Sweet flowers alone can say what passion fears revealing.” ~Evan

I recognize the quote. It’s from a poem by Thomas Hood that I read once in college. In typical Evan form, it’s cryptic and requires me to read between the lines. I thank Marcus and place the flowers beside the cash register for now.

“All right, what are you not telling me?” Emmy asks. She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s impatiently tapping her feet on the floor. “I should have known something was up. You’ve been grinning like a fool ever since you got here. Tell me everything.”

“Listen, Emmy, the bar’s packed. Not now, I’ll explain later.” I hope I can hold her off for a little longer. At least until I can figure out exactly what that message means.

Sooner than I had hoped, there’s a lull at the bar and Emmy is on me immediately. “Well, are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?” she asks.

“There’s nothing to tell, really. I was jogging on the beach this morning and I twisted my ankle. This really nice guy showed up, we hung out for a while, and he helped me to my car. End of story.” I can tell by the expression on Emmy’s face that she’s not as gullible as I had hoped.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, then don’t.” I’ve hurt her feelings. That’s not at all what I meant to do. Emmy turns around and begins to walk away, sullen.

“Emmy, wait. There’s more.”

“I knew it!” She spins on her heels anxiously awaiting the rest of my tale. “What really happened today, Jette?”

“The guy who came to help me, well, he’s someone I’ve been running into for the past few days. He’s got an incredible body and a million dollar smile. Hot doesn’t even begin to describe him. His name is Evan and we spent a few hours together at his house on the beach.”

“Hours? Really? I’d think you would have trouble walking after a marathon sex session. Aren’t you sore?” Her eyes twinkle and she looks like she’s remembering her own past escapades.

“Sorry, Em, it wasn’t like that. He never touched me, at least not in that way. It was all very innocent. We flirted a little, but it was all just in fun.” I shrug my shoulders. “Besides, he’s way out of my league.”

“Not possible. Jette, you’re hot! If I had a body like yours, I’d be putting it to good use. You’ve got the legs and boobs that most of us would kill for! Hell, you don’t even need any make-up to look gorgeous. You’ve got that all-natural Cover Girl look.”

“Whatever. Besides, men like that can’t be trusted. It’s better to find someone ... I don’t know ... more down-to-earth.”

“If that’s your way of saying you want to find a dork, so be it. But believe me, any man would be lucky to have you and that includes this Evan person.” She flings her blonde and pink hair over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Tell me again what the card said.”

I read her the card and together we try to riddle its meaning. “The message talks about passion, right? That definitely means he’s totally into you.”

“Maybe you’re right, but even if I wanted to, I have no way of getting in touch with him. Am I supposed to just show up at his door one day wearing nothing but a big red bow?”

“Ooh, yes! I’ll help.” She starts jumping up and down, clapping her hands together. She thinks I’m serious.

“Forget it, Emmy! If he wants me, he’ll have to come find me himself.”

I look around, and the bar is starting to get packed again. For the rest of the night, we keep busy and there’s little time to gossip. Finally, at closing, as we’re wiping down the bar, I promise Emmy that I’ll call her if there are any new developments with Evan.

After getting home in the wee hours of the night, I decide to turn off my alarm and sleep in. I skip my morning run for the first time since moving back home. I’m not ready to face Evan and there’s a very good chance I’d run into him again.

I emerge from my room around eleven o’clock to discover Auggie sitting in the kitchen reading today’s news on his iPad. Directly in front of him are my flowers. I turn to make my escape, hoping to go unnoticed, but I’m out of luck.

“Oh no, Jepetto. Get your ass over here and start dishing!” Auggie closes the flap on his iPad and pats his hand on the seat next to him. “Who the hell is Evan?”

“Auggie, if I tell you, you have to promise not to make a big deal out of it. Okay? Promise?” I look at him with the most serious look I can conjure to let him know I mean business.

“Sure, Jette. You okay, honey? Did something happen?” Now he looks serious and worried. That’s not what I wanted, either.

“No, I’m fine. Better than fine, I think. I went jogging yesterday and I ran into someone. You’re never going to believe who. Our mystery man from Monday has a name, and it’s Evan.” I wait for his response, and I’m not disappointed.

Auggie jumps up out of his chair and nearly shouts, “Shut the front door. Are you shitting me?”

“No, I’m not shitting you, Auggie. Now, do you want to hear the rest, or do you want to continue to curse at me?”

I tell Auggie about my ankle, Evan’s chivalrous acts, the flirting, and the flowers. He doesn’t say much. He just takes it all in and now I’m waiting to hear what he has to say. “Well, what do you think it all means?” I ask him.

“I have no idea, my Pet. From everything you’ve told me, this boy sounds like a straight shooter. He didn’t press his advances on you, he made you feel special, and he sent you beautiful flowers to let you know he’s thinking about you. He’s either a big tease who enjoys messing with the minds of beautiful young women, or he’s just as conflicted as you are.” He gets up and pours us both a cup of coffee. “You said his sister is a florist, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, that means he knows something about flowers. Maybe the real message is in the flowers themselves. Doesn’t the choice of flowers reveal something about the sender? I’m pretty sure roses mean ‘true love’, but what do daisies mean?” He opens up his iPad and we do an online search for more information.

Auggie finds an article on eHow entitled, “What is the meaning of Gerbera Daisies?” Together, we read the article and I’m no closer to understanding Evan’s gesture than I was before. It says that Gerbera Daisies represent ‘innocence, purity, friendship and classic beauty’. Maybe that means Evan just wants to be friends and is trying to make amends for the flirting.

“Click here, there’s more.” Auggie spots a link to a related article that further explains the meaning of orange Gerbera Daisies. It says, ‘Because of the bold color, orange Gerbera Daisies also represent sunshine, happiness, and hope.’

“Don’t say a word. I am not going to get all emotionally tied up in knots about what Evan may or may not have meant. It probably means nothing at all, and I’m just over thinking things, as usual.” Auggie opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt him. “I mean it, Auggie. This conversation is over and I’m done.”

Auggie heads out to meet with some clients and I fix myself something to eat, and then shower to get ready for my day. I have a few errands to run and I want to clear my mind. Emmy calls and we make plans to go to the mall together.

Emmy picks me up and we head off for Freehold Mall. She’s great company and I really enjoy being around her.

“So, Jette, tell me about Evan. What’s he like?”

My mind drifts to the morning we spent together yesterday. Evan was sweet, charming, and playful. He has a gentle way about him that’s enchanting. Memories of him running along the beach, moving with such grace and ease, make me tingle. I could not erase the image of him taking my hand, placing his lips on it, and looking directly into my eyes; the hypnotic vision of his devilish grin accented by a pair of remarkable dimples; the spark that ran through my body when we touched.

“Oh, Em, he’s perfect. Too perfect. He’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Strong arms, washboard abs, chocolate brown hair. Dreamy.” I sigh aloud.

“So when are you going to see him again?”

My mind is made up and the decision is surprisingly simple. “I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He sounds like a real loser.” Emmy is shaking her head trying to make sense of my last declaration. “So, just to sum things up, he’s attractive, kind, wealthy, and he makes you tingle in all the right places. Am I right?” She’s tapping her finger on the steering wheel, obviously losing patience with my thought process.

“I suppose.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Exasperation hits me as I try to explain. “He’s not a long-term relationship kind of guy. The way he flirts, it’s obvious he knows how he affects women. He probably has a different girl in his bed every night.” The words, once spoken aloud, seem to cement in my mind. All kinds of beautiful women must present themselves to him on a regular basis. He’s got money and with that comes opportunity; all the glamorous places he must see as he travels with the football team; living in hotel rooms; drifting migrantly across the country surely means having a different girl in every town. “I have no intention of having a one-night stand with any man, not even Evan.”

“You know what, Jette? You surprise me. I thought you were cool. I didn’t think you were the type to prejudge people and write them off without giving them a chance.”

Emmy is right. I usually don’t judge people. In fact, I’ve seen what effect that can have on someone. Auggie is the perfect example. People judge him all the time. They think that because he’s gay, he must be promiscuous. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Do you think I’m wrong?” I ask her.

“The fact is Jette, neither one of us know if you’re right or wrong. I think that if you run into this boy again, you should give him the benefit of the doubt. Give him a chance.”

The only word that comes to my mind is, “Maybe.” I sweep my hair back off my face and rub my temple, trying to erase the images floating through my mind. “Maybe.”

After that, the conversation takes a lighter turn as we make our way through the mall. There’s not too many people shopping today. It’s a weekday and most people have jobs and busy lives. We make our way through Sur La Table where I get some cupcake sleeves and pastry bags. Emmy is holding a bag full of makeup from Sephora. I introduce Emmy to Lush where they have the most delicious hand-made soaps. I even convince her to buy a bath bomb. Then Emmy insists on one final stop: Victoria’s Secret.

“I need to get some fishnet stockings for roller derby, maybe a new thong and a push-up bra. I need all the help I can get. I’m not as lucky as you in the boob department.” She grabs her boobs and pushes them together, trying to give herself cleavage. We both burst out laughing. She has no filter sometimes.

“What are you going to get?” Emmy wants to know.

I see a cute pair of sweatpants with the word PINK written down one leg. I hold them up for inspection. “These are cute, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t.” She takes them and puts them back on the rack. No discussion. “You need something that will make you feel pretty. These will make you feel lazy.”

She grabs me by the wrist and drags me over to the undergarments. I’ve bought thongs before, and frankly, I don’t see the allure. It’s like having a string up your butt all day. Emmy picks up a pair of lacey hip-hugger panties that are actually quite pretty. I could see how wearing these would make a girl feel sexy without the discomfort of a thong. I pick out a few and we head to the check out.

After a few more stops, we’re on our way home. I’m glad Emmy called. My mind is clear. Although I haven’t made up my mind about Evan, I decide to keep an open mind. Life can be messy, confusing, and imperfect, and it’s rarely without conflict. It’s how we handle the conflict that determines the direction our life takes. I’m going to trust myself and to accept the path that life leads me down.

I am thankful for the large crowd filling the bar tonight. The in-house DJ is playing more great music. It’s Emmy’s night off, so Derek and I are manning the bar alone. We are so busy that I barely have time to think about Evan. For some reason I can’t explain, I just know he isn’t going to just show up here out of the blue.

I slide a bottle of Bud to one of my customers when Derek points over to the other side of the bar. “That guy’s been asking about you, Jette. What should I tell him?” I search the bar and spot a well-dressed young man around my age talking to a group of guys.

“I dunno. Tell him whatever you want. Not interested.” I return to the crowd of customers lining my bar waiting for their drinks. The male customers are easy to handle, most want a beer or a shooter. The women, on the other hand, usually want a mixed drink. Personally, I’ll take an ice-cold beer any night of the week.

With the crowd growing, the head bartender joins us, Marcus. His looks are intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him. He has the body and presence of a lacrosse player, someone you just don’t mess with. But the moment you look into his eyes, almond shaped with the most captivating shade of amber, you sense he’s more of a teddy bear.

Marcus knows his way around a bar and with his help, the crowd becomes more manageable. The guys obviously know each other well and are exchanging jokes and insults all night long. Soon enough, I join in on the banter and find myself really having fun.

“Tell you what, Jette,” Marcus shouts. “I catch this cocktail behind my back and you go out to dinner with me.” The crowd’s watching the spectacle and they’re really enjoying the show.

“No way!” Marcus has great reflexes and he knows it. I wave him off and continue to work the bar. Marcus, being the expert showman that he is, feigns a broken heart and goes back to flirting with the ladies.

Derek whisks me up in his arms, spins me around, and dips me so low, I can practically touch the ground. “Keep your filthy paws off her, Marcus. She’s all mine!” Derek kisses my hand and I fan myself with my free hand.

“You know I only have eyes for you, Derek!” and I bat my eyelashes in my best Scarlet O’Hara southern belle impersonation.

As I make my way down the line, the guy that Derek pointed out appears with an empty glass. “What can I get you tonight?” I ask while mentally calculating the number of customers waiting to be served.

“Whatever’s on tap ... and your number.” He looks sweet and hopeful. I have to let him down easy.

“Sorry, it’s really very sweet of you to ask, but I have a boyfriend.” I slip the cash from his hand and he sulks away. I don’t have time to worry about his hurt feelings, and I instead concentrate on making mojitos, cosmos, and martinis.

Derek grins and winks at me. “You know it, babe!” and he smacks me on the ass. I shoot him a look of disapproval and I hope he gets the message. Flirting is one thing, but ass grabbing and slapping crosses a line.

The rest of the night continues with the boys acting like fools and the customers eating it up. The tip jar is overflowing and the time flies by.

It’s close to closing time and the crowd has thinned out considerably. There are a few stray customers sitting at the bar. One guy’s been sitting here a while. I vaguely remember serving him a few beers throughout the night. Marcus busies himself cleaning up the bar and I walk around wiping down the counter and asking everyone for their final drink orders.

When I approach the guy sitting alone, something inside me doesn’t feel right. Call it intuition, but I have this feeling that there’s going to be a problem. It’s the way he’s sitting there, alone, watching my every move. “Last call, what’ll it be?”

He grabs the hand I’m using to wipe down the counter with. “How about we get out of here and grab something to eat at the diner, sweetheart?” He grabs my hand in both of his, petting my knuckles.

“Sorry, I don’t date customers. How about you let go of my hand, and I’ll get you another beer?” I struggle to free my hand, but he’s not letting up.

“Aw, come on. I saw you flirting with those guys all night. You like to have fun, I can tell. Let’s have some fun together. I promise I’ll show you a good time.” He grins at me, but his eyes remain steely.

“How about you give me some cash, and I’ll give you a beer. That sounds like a good time, don’t you think?” I look over to Derek for a little assistance, but it’s Marcus who shows up behind the jackass.

“Let the lady go, sir, NOW!” Marcus is a very intimidating man. If he wasn’t a bartender, he’d make one heck of a bouncer.

The jackass immediately releases me, throws a few dollars on the counter and calls back, “Slut!” as he exits the bar.

Immediately, Marcus joins me behind the bar to check to see if I’m okay. He hold my shoulders and looks me directly in the eyes, “Jette, hon, how ‘ya doin’?”

“Thanks, Marcus. I’m fine, really.” I lie. I’m actually a little shaken up by the whole situation, but no one needs to know that. “Let’s finish cleaning up and go home. It’s been a long night.”

Derek sees Marcus holding me in place, then comes over and asks, “What happened?”

“Jette just got a little manhandled at the bar. I had to step in before things got out of hand,” Marcus explains.

“Guys, I’m fine. Let’s not make a big deal out of this. No harm done.” I turn away and start wiping down the bar with my wet bar rag while my hands are shaking, probably from the adrenaline raging through my veins.

I start to feel better with each minute that passes. By the time we lock up and head to our cars, I’m feeling much better. Marcus and Derek insist on walking me to my car, just in case the jackass hasn’t left. Truth be told, I’m glad to have them hovering.

Once I get home and crawl into bed, exhaustion overtakes me and I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 693