Chapter Seven

On Cloud Nine

I wake up before the alarm today. There’s a lot on my mind and I need a clear head to consider the events of the last twenty-four hours. It would have been so easy to stay last night, to give into my desires. But that would not have been the wise thing to do. I need time. Time to figure out what I want from Evan and time to find out what Evan wants from me. Time is something I have lots of. The question is, will Evan give me the time I need?

For today’s jog, I’m staying away from Evan’s house. If he wants to see me, he’s going to have to make the first move. I will not present myself to him. I’ve never thrown myself at a man and I’m not about to start now. No accidental meetings. No misunderstandings. No wistful daydreaming. Just the sun and the surf.

I must look like a fool as I run along the surf. Each time I think about my evening with Evan, a huge silly grin splashes across my face. No sooner does an image of Evan appear in my mind’s eye, when it’s replaced by the memory of my cryptic conversation with Adam. This must be what it feels like to have ADHD, unable to keep a single idea focused for very long.

Adam knew enough about me to be able to find me on the beach. That must mean Evan was talking about me. I wonder what he said. Now I’m smiling again.

However, Adam was giving me a warning of sorts. He suggested that Evan has a history of making poor romantic choices. That’s worrisome. No more smile.

Then again, he also said that Evan didn’t want to be like that anymore. Maybe he’s looking for a more traditional relationship. Smiling again.

I know firsthand that it’s not so easy for a leopard to change his spots, and if Evan has a proclivity towards fast, hard, and dangerous relationships, could he ever be satisfied with someone like me? Smile gone.

That’s how the entire run goes. Happy thoughts followed by troubling thoughts. If I only had a daisy, I could play the ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ game.

By the time I get home, there’s a text from Evan. I read it and respond immediately

Evan: Good morning running grl. How did you sleep last night?

Jette: No nightmares, just sweet dreams :)

Evan: Glad to hear it. I want to see u again.

Jette: Me too.

Evan: Call me later – let’s make plans

Jette: OK, I will :)

No wink today. Does that mean something? No, probably not. I’m just overthinking things ... again. He wants to see me, even though I left before things went too far. That is most definitely a good sign.

I arrive early at work to open the patio bar with Marcus. Marcus has been bartending for several years now, and I learn a lot when we work together. My first customers are a group of college-age girls which is perfect. They aren’t just beer or wine drinkers, they like mixed drinks. This gives Marcus a chance to teach me some new recipes. There are literally hundreds of variations of martinis and cosmopolitans, and Marcus expertly demonstrates how to make a Lemon Drop Martini with flair. I try a few fancy flips and turns with the shaker bottle, and I’m not half bad. Marcus is a patient and helpful teacher. It’s actually a lot of fun.

It’s time for my break and I head indoors to find Derek. He’s working the indoor bar today. I told him last night that we could hang out, and I’m wondering what he has in mind.

“Hey, Derek, sorry about last night.” I sit on one of the bar stools. His bar is pretty empty at the moment.

“No worries, Jette. Listen, I have to ditch on you tonight. Grant got tickets for tonight’s Nets game against the Bulls.” He looks so excited. Boys really love their sports.

“What is it about going to a basketball game that’s so great? You look like you just won the lottery.” I really don’t get it. I always viewed sports as a demonstration of the male need to be aggressive, to dominate, and to be victorious in combat, a real basal instinct.

“Boobs, balls, and beer, babe! We have simple needs.” I just shake my head and walk away, grinning. Derek calls after me, “What did I say?”

I find a quiet table in the back of the bar and I call Evan.

Evan answers with a cheerful tone, “Hey, you! Are you on break? What’s going on?”

“I only have a few minutes left before I have to get back behind the bar, but I was wondering if you’d like to come over and hang out at my place tonight.”

“What happened to the plans you had with Dylan?”

“His name is Derek, and he got tickets to the Jets game.”

“That’s not possible, it’s not football season. Do you mean the Nets? That’s basketball.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely basketball. You sure it’s not Jets?”

“Pretty sure. Enough about sports, I’d really like to take you out somewhere tonight. Can I pick you up after work?”

“Sounds great. What should I wear?”

“Let me make a few phone calls. I’ll let you know.”

“Um, okay. I’ll text you my address. I get off at four. I can be ready by five.”

“I’ll call you before then. I’ll let you get back to work now.”

“Okay, bye.”

“See you in a few hours, Juliette.”

After we hang up, I text my address to Evan and turn my phone off. Then I head back to the patio to help Marcus at the bar. There is only one couple at a table in the back, so we have time to chat.

“You know Jette,” he says to me, “I hope I didn’t put you on the spot with the whole wedding cake thing. If you’re not ready for a big job like that, you’d tell me, right?”

“Are you kidding? I’m so excited. I’m already thinking about custom flavors for you to try. Do you two have any requests?” I hope he doesn’t ask for something too ordinary or over-done like red velvet.

“I don’t think so. What do you have in mind?”

Great. I have so many ideas. “Well, seeing as how you are a bartender and you met your fiancée here at the bar, I’m thinking some ‘top shelf’ flavored cupcakes for the guests and a groom’s cake for the two of you.”

“Sounds good. One thing, though, what are ‘top shelf’ cupcakes?”

“Alcohol infused cupcakes. The top three or four that I’m thinking suit a formal wedding are champagne, Limón cello, Grand Marnier, and Chambord. Nothing cheesy like Irish Cream or Kahlua. Do you think Camilla will like my idea?” I’d love to be able to impress them.

“I think she’ll love it!” Marcus replies.

There are only a couple of hours left in my shift, and it goes by pretty quickly. When four o’clock nears, I begin cleaning up my station while Marcus splits the tips with me. Not bad tips for a lunch shift.

I punch out and make the short trek to my car. Once I start the car, I check my messages. There’s one from Evan.

“Juliette, it’s me. Evan. Dress comfortably and bring a sweater. I hope you don’t get seasick.”

I’m so glad I shaved my legs this morning, because I don’t have the luxury of time to primp. There is only one hour until my date arrives. A quick shower to wash away the grime of the day’s labor will have to do. I spend the few precious minutes I have to dry my long hair into a straight and sleek style that sweeps off to one side.

As I flip through the dresses hanging in my closet, I drift back to the thoughts of Evan’s hand tracing delicate circles on my bare shoulders. I can still feel his strong hand resting on my skin. I definitely want to feel that again, so I know immediately which dress I’m going to select.

My hand rests on a simple midnight blue frock with a plunging back, a scoop neck, and an intermission hemline. It’s a simple, lightweight lined dress. Perfectly casual but still sexy.

The reference to getting seasick prevents me from grabbing my FMPs, so I opt for a simple pair of gold gladiator sandals that fit securely on my feet, but are still cute and sexy. I grab my Victoria Secret’s boyfriend sweater, and I’m all set.

Exactly on time, Evan arrives at five o’clock sharp. I open the door and all worries are forgotten. Evan’s eyes lock with mine and I am frozen in place. Before I can react, I am in Evan’s strong arms, which are wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me close. My arms are tucked beneath his and I find his lips touching mine. All caution is thrown to the wind, and I kiss him with all the yearning and passion that has been building inside me. Our tongues twist and turn, dancing wildly, eager to explore this new territory. The stubble on his chin tickles in the most delightful way.

Slowly, we break apart from our embrace. “Hi there,” Evan whispers in my ear. “Are you ready?” All I can manage is an enthusiastic nod. “What’s the matter? You’re awfully quiet tonight.”

The cloud lifts, and I find my words. “Let me grab my bag and we can go.” I grab my bag, my sweater, lock the door, and off we go.

Waiting in my driveway is a jet black Porsche 911. Evan gallantly walks me to the passenger side and opens the door for me. He slips into the driver’s seat and our journey begins.

Evan puts on his playlist and I’m learning a lot about him based on his music preferences. Our ride begins with a nice calming classic from Led Zeppelin. He turns his steering wheel into a drum as he strums along to the sounds of Genesis and Bon Jovi. There’s no doubt, he’s a classic rock kind of guy.

I like driving with Evan. It gives me another opportunity to examine his masculine features. He didn’t shave today, and the stubble is seductive. His strong jaw frames his face exquisitely. His hand is resting on the stick shift, and I cannot resist placing my hand on top of his and caressing his strong hands. Strong hands on a man are on the top of my turn-on list. There is nothing worse than a man with a weak handshake.

He lets me doodle invisible shapes on his hand for a short while before he slowly turns his palm over and takes my hand in his. Our finger knit together and my heart sings.

I’m curious, so I ask, “So, where are you taking me tonight? You didn’t give too much away in your message.”

“Jersey City. The Liberty Landing Marina.”

“Is that near the Statue of Liberty? You know, even growing up here all my life, I’ve never been there.”

“Actually, yes. Adam called in a favor and got us a charter boat for the evening. It’s ours for the next three hours.”

“Adam did this for us? Really?” I guess last night’s dinner changed Adam’s outlook on things.

“Sure. It’s what he does. He’s very good at his job.”

Evan’s phone rings with an in-coming text message. He peeks over at the screen and immediately silences the phone. The fact that he doesn’t want to interrupt our time together is sweet.

In less than an hour, we arrive at the marina. There are literally hundreds of vessels of all different sizes and types. Historic schooners, fishing boats, and yachts are all lining the docks. I am escorted to a mid-sized yacht with the name ‘Checkmate’ emblazoned on the stern.

I’ve never been on a yacht before, and I am in awe. We enter the cabin and I begin to explore. There are full size windows along three walls. The fourth wall leads to the crew cabin where the captain is at the helm. Evan offers to take my sweater and he places it on one of the leather chairs. On one wall is a large sectional sofa in a cream-colored leather that would easily seat eight. The view of the Hudson River is breath-taking from here.

Evan explores the bar. It’s a beautiful teak wood with a granite countertop. Barstools provide seating for four more guests. “Well, ma’am, what will it be this evening?” He’s holding a martini glass in his hand awaiting my response.

“Surprise me.” Anything that is created by this man before me will taste magical.

I watch Evan pour some vodka and pineapple juice in the shaker, then empty the frothy mix into my glass. He tops it off with a splash of champagne, and he proudly presents his libation to me. “It’s called a Flirtini. It’s supposed to make you flirty. I hope it works.”

“My turn. You sit, I’ll mix.” We switch spots. Evan sits at the bar and I take my place behind the bar. “What can I get for you this evening, sir?”

“I’ll take the house specialty.” It’s time to put my new bar skills to good use.

I rinse out the shaker and fill it with cognac, triple sec, and a splash of lemon juice. With as much grace as I can muster, I give the mix a good shake over each shoulder, then toss it into the air end over top, and catch it right side up. Evan gives an enthusiastic applause, but the show’s not over yet. Again, I shake vigorously, but this time, I toss the silver cup into the air and behind my back. Thanks to Marcus’ masterful teaching, I nail it and the shaker appears in my hand, right end up. Yea! I strain the mixture into a cocktail glass and garnish with a lemon slice. “Your drink, sir. This is a classic Sidecar. I hope you enjoy it.”

He takes my hand and places a heart-felt kiss on the top of my hand. “Wow, you are amazing. I could watch you all night.”

It’s so easy and natural to be around him. Evan hands me my sweater and walks me to the deck. The sun is beginning to set, and we are passing the Statue of Liberty. There are a few deck chairs at the rear of the yacht where we perch ourselves to drink in our surroundings.

“Can I ask you a question,” I cautiously ask Evan.

“You can ask me anything. I want you to know me, the real me. What do you want to know?”

I really don’t know much about him, so I start with the basics. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Today, it’s navy blue. Yesterday, it was lemon yellow. Tomorrow, it will depend.”

“Depend on what?”

He wraps his arms around me and looks into my eyes, “Depends on what you’re wearing.”

Oh, my God! I gently push him away but he holds on tighter. I love this feeling of being in his arms. “Now who’s the flirty one, here, chief?”

He brings his lips up to my ear and chuckles. “Did you just call me chief?”

“Why yes I did, chief. Do you have a problem with that?”

Evan releases me takes my hand into his. “No. But does that mean I can make up a name for you, too?”

“Fair is fair. What do you have in mind?”

He replies without a moment’s hesitation, “How about girlfriend?”

“I like the sound of that.” My heart is beating so fast, I’m certain he can actually see my heart rate increase.

“Me, too. Come here, sit with me.” He pats his lap and motions for me to join him on his lounge chair. As I do, his phone goes off again. This time, he doesn’t even bother to look at it. He turns it off and returns his full attention to me.

“Don’t you want to check that?” I ask him.

“Nope. I definitely do not.” He puts the phone away. “Now, come here.”

As the yacht makes its way towards the tip of Manhattan, we sit together with our arms and legs entwined like pretzels. I don’t even notice the magnificent skyline of New York City as we cruise past it.

Oh, God, he smells so good. He nibbles on my lower lip, and then our tongues continue their delicate dance. I gently caress his broad shoulders, then run my hand up the back of his neck and twist my fingers in his hair. He lets out a low moan of satisfaction as I gently pull on his hair.

He responds in kind by wrapping my hair around his hand, then slowly, gently pulling down causing me to lift my chin ever so slightly, opening up my neck to his hungry love bites. My plunging neckline gives him more room to explore, and I arch my back just enough to invite him in.

Eventually, our kisses slow and as I glance towards Manhattan, I see that we are nearing the Intrepid. “Look, Evan, isn’t it big?”

“Juliette, you have no idea!” We just look at each other and burst out laughing.

A member of the crew comes to announce our dinner is being served in the cabin dining area. Evan walks me to the table, holds out the chair for me, and offers to take my sweater. I take a moment to appreciate the beautiful table setting before me. The table is set for a romantic dinner for two. A white tablecloth lines the table dramatically to the floor while white plates with red trim sit atop. Resting on my plate is a solitary pink tulip with a simple card.

To Juliette – Just Because. ~Evan

I raise the flower to smell the sweet, light scent. The deep pink color is stunning. This man knows exactly how to get to a woman’s heart.

The waitress comes over to pour our drinks. She begins to pour a white wine into a red crystal wine glass, but she speaks directly to Evan, “Tonight we will be serving miso-glazed salmon served on a bed of sesame scallion salad which is being paired with a crisp Riesling.” After pouring my drink, she touches Evan on the shoulder as she pours into his glass. She continues, speaking only to him. “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

Evan looks at me and asks, “Juliette, is there anything else we need?” Simple words with deeper meaning ... “we”. God, I love the sound of it. I shake my head and take a deep breath. How can one word affect me so deeply?

I can’t blame the waitress for being momentarily blinded by Evan, he does look delicious tonight. He’s wearing a salmon-colored untucked V-neck t-shirt and a very dark wash pair of jeans that hang low on his waist. He has removed his leather jacket, revealing his smooth muscles and broad shoulders.

Evan asks me about my day at work. I tell him about my first wedding gig for Marcus and Camilla. He loves my idea about top shelf desserts. Marcus has become one of my friends and I wonder if these two would get along. How nice it would be for us all to hang out together, joking, laughing, enjoying ourselves.

My last boyfriend David didn’t really get along with my friends. He preferred it when we hung out with his friends or with no one at all. Now, when I look back, I can see that he was isolating me and causing me to become dependent on him. My friends were getting frustrated with me and started calling less and less. That’s why when he was unfaithful to me, the pain was nearly unbearable. I promised myself that I would never again become so reliant upon someone else for my own happiness.

Flirty waitress returns to clear our plates. Again, speaking only to Evan, she inquires, “Where would you like to enjoy your dessert tonight, sir?” She brushes up against him as she clears our plates. Why do I feel the sudden urge to scratch her eyes out?

“We’d like to sit out on the deck this evening. Juliette, would you like more wine?” I agree and the flirt fills both our glasses, then she excuses herself to prepare our dessert.

I’m feeling curious about Evan’s profession, so I press him for a little information. “So Evan, how did you get involved in professional football?”

“I played football in High School and I got a scholarship to play for UMD. I love everything about the game.” He has a spark in his eyes when he talks about football.

“Isn’t it just a game? And a seriously violent one at that? How can you be involved in a sport that is the cause for such serious physical injuries?”

“The players know what they are getting into when they sign up to play. No one wants to get hurt, and we work very hard to protect our players. But you have to understand. Football is one of the most complicated games with complex tactical strategies. You see, in every football play, two sets of eleven players must work together to achieve their goals. The success of any play is rarely dependent on a single player’s ability, but, instead, on the united coherence of the teammates on the field. In other words, every time the ball is snapped on a football field, the players are striving to create a more perfect union among themselves. It’s really an honor to be a part of such an American institution.”

“What position did you play in college?” I hope he names one of the few positions I know.

“I was a quarterback in college.” I should have known. “Do you have a favorite quarterback or football team, Juliette? Be careful, the wrong answer here could be disastrous.”

“No, sorry. Well, wait. Actually, Peyton Manning is pretty cool. I only know him from his appearances on Saturday Night Live. He’s really funny. Does he play for the Giants?” I’m trying not to embarrass myself here.

“Right now, he’s playing for the Denver Broncos. I thought you went to school in Denver. How could you not know that? His brother Eli is the Giants’ quarterback.” He’s looking at me like I just grew another head.

“You don’t have to make me feel bad, Evan.”

He walks over to me and helps me up to my feet. He embraces me, and all is forgotten. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never met anyone like you. Most of the women I’ve been with just wanted ... they were more interested ... I guess they were just drawn to the football lifestyle.”

“Well, I have a lot to learn about football. That is, if you’re willing to teach me, of course.” How naïve I must look and sound.

“Juliette, I look forward to sharing all of that with you. But for now, let’s go enjoy the night.” He releases me from our embrace, gathers my sweater, and escorts me back out to the deck.

By the time we make it to the deck, we are approaching the unmistakable vision of the Brooklyn Bridge. As we cruise under the bridge, I’m enjoying a view that I never imagined I would see in person. And I’m watching it holding hands with a magnificent man. How did I get so lucky?

Waiting for us is an enchanting table arrangement. There’s a carafe of hot coffee and a delectable plating of Crème Brule with berries, kiwi, and a caramel sugar garnish. We sit to enjoy our dessert, each other, and the breathtaking view.

It’s time I take the lead to let Evan know how I feel. He’s been very open about his intentions and I need him to know that the feeling is more than mutual.

I lead him over to the deck chairs and push him back with as much force as is needed to get him to sit. He looks up at me, confused. Standing before him, I place my hands on his shoulders, and I straddle him, sitting on his lap face-to-face. With abandon, I kiss him passionately. He puts his hands around my waist and pulls me closer. I crawl up into his lap and rest my head on his shoulder. He holds me and gently caresses my back.

For the next hour, we enjoy cuddling and kissing as we pass by the evening skyline of Manhattan after dusk. This was, by far, the most romantic evening I could have ever imagined.

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 641