He’d said the magic word. Coffee. How could a girl resist?
***
We sat in the café for more than an hour. He was right, they did make a great cup. They also made fabulous muffins, both chocolate chip and banana nut. My appetite was coming back, even if my memory hadn’t. And considering how small I was, that was probably a good thing.
“So how are you doing now, since your accident?” he asked. Unlike his father, Kris had a genuine kindness about him, the kind that made me want to open up.
“My best friend is letting me stay with her – at least, she tells me she’s my best friend,” I amended. “She’s sweet. Now I guess I’m just trying to put the pieces back together.”
“I know how it feels, having to piece your life back together. You seem like a brave girl.”
I blushed. My entire body heated at his words, like I’d never gotten a compliment before. Then again, I really hadn’t. I think.
His smile put me at ease and I found myself telling him about how I’d been looking through pictures with Ava, needing her to tell me about the events.
“I’m sure you probably don’t want to hear this, but there are some good things about not being able to remember.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He grinned at me and it made his eyes dance. “When I was seventeen, my best friend and I snuck out to go to this bar a couple miles from my house. I still don’t know how we got in, because neither of us looked anywhere close to twenty-one, but somehow, we found ourselves sitting at the bar, and trying to act like we belonged.”
He had a great voice. One of those voices a person could listen to all day.
“So the two of us were sitting there and this woman came up and started flirting with me. She’s gorgeous. Or at least I’m pretty sure she was, but I was pretty drunk. Anyway, long story short, the next morning, I woke up in a stranger’s bed. I rolled over, and it’s her. Except I suddenly realize that I’d seen her somewhere before. She was our dog walker.”
I burst out laughing.
“That’s not even the worst part,” he went on. “She made me give her fifty bucks or she’d tell my parents that I’d been at a bar.”
I shook my head, still laughing. “Why would you tell me something like that?”
He shrugged. “Some memories aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
I thought of Ava and her parents. I thought of my mom telling me that she wished she could forget about me. But then I thought about the pictures I’d looked at, times I’d spent with Ava that I couldn’t recall.
“I’d take the bad if it meant I could remember the good too,” I said softly.
There was a moment of silence between us, and then his phone buzzed. He looked at it, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Wow, it’s been an hour already? I’m sorry, I really have to go.” He started to stand, and then stopped, his expression serious. “Listen, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be there. Let me give you my private number. You can call me any time you want. If you remember something, anything at all, let me know. Okay?”
I smiled and nodded as he wrote his number on the back of my napkin. Warmth flooded through me. I knew that Kris had given me his number as a professional courtesy, that he was merely getting all the facts to build my case, but that spark when he helped me up from my klutzy moment at the office, it hadn’t gone away the whole time we’d been chatting.
Like a true gentleman, he walked me to my car, and as he held the door open, I was rewarded with a charming, boyish smile. “Listen, Preslee. I know this sounds strange, since we just met and all, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me on Friday night?”
Chapter 7
Preslee
“I know you don’t know this, but it’s been way too long since you’ve dated,” Ava reminded me.
“Yeah, you told me that already,” I retorted. “My short-term memory is just fine. Besides, this is
not
a date.”
She made a sour face. “I just think it’s about time you found a nice guy. Before the accident, all you ever did was work and go to school and study. You’ve never had any idea how hot you are.”
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of Ava’s bedroom door. I’d managed to find a cobalt blue dress that draped nicely over my barely-there curves and brought out the darker shades of blue in my eyes. My blonde curls were shiny and soft, and Ava had managed to save all of my makeup. I was nervous, my stomach cramping in anticipation. I’d spent well over an hour perfecting my natural-looking makeup. Nudes, roses, and browns met with blush and bronzer for a lush and fresh-faced finish. I paced the living room in my wedged heels and listened to Ava’s pep talk.
“You’ve been telling me all week what a sweetheart Kris is. And how did you put it? Deliciously sexy? He seems like the total opposite of his father. It’s a shame Kris didn’t visit you in the hospital instead.”
I smirked, arching a coy eyebrow. “It’s a good thing he didn’t. I’m not sure I could’ve said no to him.”
Ava snorted. “Something to keep in mind during your date.” She cleared her throat and nudged me playfully. I blushed.
“Not what I meant,” I said. But I had to laugh. “Besides, it’s not like anything’s going to happen. We both know he’s only taking me out because he wants to handle my case.”
“Mmmhmm. Always the optimist,” Ava said sarcastically.
Kris told me he’d pick me up at seven, and I made a point of telling him to stay in the car. I wasn’t ashamed of Ava’s apartment, but it was hers, not mine. I already felt like I was intruding. She waited with me on the sidewalk in front of the building, and at exactly five minutes to seven, a pristine silver Lexus pulled up to the curb. I heard a low whistle come from my friend.
“Whoa,” she whispered. “Hot car.”
“Well, he’s a lawyer, so…” I managed to murmur before Kris got out. I heard Ava gasp this time, but ignored her even though I agreed with her reaction. He was absolutely gasp-worthy. I hadn’t focused on how tall he was when we met at the office. He was at least a foot taller than me and I was wearing heels. At least six-five. His face was model perfect, his powder blue eyes striking against his cocoa-brown hair.
“Hi,” he beamed, leaning down to brush a kiss across my cheek. He held out his hand to shake Ava’s. “I’m Kris.” She shook with a wide grin on her face. “You must be Ava,” he continued. She nodded, at a loss for words. I got the impression that she was dumbstruck, and I had a feeling that didn’t happen often.
He turned to me. “How about Italian?” he asked. It sounded good to me. I patted Ava on the shoulder – she still hadn’t said a word – and we left.
The car was warm and luxurious. I sank into the plush leather seat and I felt as though it molded itself around me. “Beautiful car,” I commented. Then I realized that every girl he ever had in this car probably said the same thing. He was a lawyer, a successful one at that, and likely knew a lot of women much more sophisticated than I was.
“Thank you.” He was polite, even if he had heard it a million times before.
We let a comfortable silence fall between us as he made his way through the relatively light traffic.
“This is one of my favorite restaurants,” he told me as we pulled in along the sidewalk in front of a small, nondescript looking building.
A valet attendant opened my door, and we walked together into a bustling little dining room. I immediately felt at ease. It seemed warm and casual, but smelled absolutely incredible. My stomach rumbled. Rich red booths topped with linen table cloths and tall wine glasses lined the walls. The room glowed with the soft ambiance of candle light and minimal overhead lighting.
“If I could eat here every day, I would,” Kris said once we were seated. “I mean, yeah, I have to run an extra mile or three after, but it’s always worth it. I practically have the menu memorized.”
“I’m pretty sure I like Italian food,” I offered with a grin. He stared at me for a moment, and then burst out laughing. I joined him, glad that we didn’t have to be awkward about the forgetful elephant in the room.
“That’s just awful. I’m sorry I laughed,” he said as soon as he caught his breath.
I shook my head. “Believe me, it’s weird as hell not to remember anything,” I replied, “but I have to laugh about it too, or else I’ll go crazy.”
“You’re wise beyond your years,” he said.
I frowned. “And you’re so much older and wiser?” I teased.
“I’m twenty-five,” he told me. “And you’re…nineteen, you said?”
I nodded. He was a good deal older than me, then. If I’d been the one in my mid-twenties and he’d been in his early thirties, it might not have seemed like such a big deal. But I was sure that if he hadn’t been trying to woo me into letting him handle my case, he’d never have actually taken me to dinner, or anywhere else for that matter.
I fumbled with my menu, trying not to feel disappointed at the confirmation of what I’d been telling Ava. This wasn’t a real date. But at least I could get some good food out of it.
I couldn’t decide. Kris made suggestions based on what I told him piqued my interest – it seemed like he had nothing but rave reviews for just about everything on the menu, making me believe that he really had eaten here a million times.
We decided on an order of swordfish meatballs over polenta, fried Brussels sprouts, whipped goat milk ricotta, and two small pasta dishes. My head spun at the idea of all of that food, but Kris told me that everything was meant to be shared. Good thing too, because I wanted to try it all. I’d decided that an upside to my condition was that I’d at least get to discover favorite things all over again.
He sipped his red wine thoughtfully, scanning my body in a way that sent tingles from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. The heat in his eyes didn’t exactly look business-like.
“You look even better than you did earlier this week.”
I blushed. I hadn’t realized that he’d checked me out then, much less liked what he saw.
“I’ve been doing a lot of walking, trying to get my strength and energy back,” I told him. “I’m still stiff, and I get tired easily, but it’s getting much better.”
“You have color in your cheeks,” he observed. “I’m glad. You were pretty wan when I met you.”
“Real nice, Kris. I was in a coma for four months with zero sunlight, and you tell me I looked a little pale?” I deadpanned, doing my best to appear furious.
“Preslee, I…I didn’t mean…that’s not…” He stumbled for the right words.
“Gotcha,” I grinned at him.
He laughed as he shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re actually making jokes about what happened.”
I shrugged. “Physically, things are good. And…” I trailed off, telling myself that he probably didn’t want to hear my sob story, but he made a gesture for me to continue. “The doctor told me that getting my blood flowing might help me, memory-wise. I’ve been doing a lot of Sudoku and other puzzles. Trying to get my brain to catch up.”
He looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” he said. He reached across the table and grasped my hand. “You have no idea how strong you are. You really don’t. I can’t tell you how much I respect you. Some people, if they faced a challenge like the one you’re facing, would become bitter or they’d just give up, but you keep pushing forward.”
“It’s all new for me,” I pointed out. “Maybe after a few months or so, yeah, I’ll get tired of waiting for things to come back. Maybe I’ll just become a new person or something.”
“I hope not,” he said softly. “You’re pretty great the way you are.”
He certainly knew how to make me blush.
Then our food came and there was no time for talking. The swordfish meatballs were tender and moist, paired perfectly with the polenta and its browned butter. The sprouts were crispy and salty with a little bit of a lemony tang that woke up my senses. The ricotta literally made my eyes roll back in my head. It was so creamy and rich that I spread some on a thick piece of grilled bread and groaned when I took a bite.
Kris shifted in his seat, eyes on my mouth. “See what I mean?”
I nodded with a blissful smile. And things just got better from there.
“Are you a foodie?” I asked him over a mouthful of pasta.
He appeared to think this over and then shrugged. “I appreciate a good meal, a good bottle of wine. I’m adventurous too. I’ll try just about anything once.”
I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to be suggestive, but I felt myself get warm all over anyway. I was sure that my raw attraction to him was coloring the way I interpreted his words. And I was definitely attracted to him – I’d have to be dead or in a coma not to be, and I sure as hell wasn’t in a coma anymore.
Over a shared dessert of an unbearably delicious homemade waffle with chocolate truffle sauce and house-made semifreddo, he told me more about himself.
“I’m just a regular guy,” he said. “Ninety-five percent of my music collection is circa 1990 or earlier – like fifties and sixties earlier. I run, and I play basketball with friends a couple nights a week. I read a lot.”
“Ava packed up all of my books for me, and there are a lot of them,” I added. “So I guess I’m a reader too. All of my movies and music were classic as well. I guess we have lots in common. Not that I remember any of them.” I shrugged and he chuckled.