Fall From Grace (10 page)

I stared straight ahead.  “Thanks.”

“So what were you doing here with Shane, anyway?”

“I was watching the guys practice.  Why?”

“Oh, shit!  I’m supposed to practice with them after work, which is now!  Why the fuck is it every time I have something I want to do, these assholes have to depend on me to do other things!”  His anger seemed extremely misplaced.  He even threw down his Gucci bag.  Holy crap, he’s having a tantrum!

I tried to smile, “Tucker, I live like two blocks away.  You go help them, I’m fine.”

That made his pouting stop.  He kissed me on the cheek.  “I can’t wait to take you out on Wednesday, but more than that, I can’t wait for you to see me play on stage on Friday!”

“So go practice!” I pretended to be excited.  You insane psycho!  I think I need to get a very contagious stomach virus before this date.

I walked home alone; my small glimpse of contentment gone.

Chapter 7

Unfortunately, I woke up Wednesday healthy and perfectly able to go on a date with Tucker.  I was so entirely against it that Lea stayed home from work to spend the day being Tucker’s cheerleader.  The more I tried to explain to her that I didn’t want to go on the date, the more disappointed she seemed; she was killing me.

Lea always had this fairy-tale delusion of us marrying best friends or brothers.  We would go on double dates, be each other’s maid of honor and live next door to each other.  She had an extensive map laid out of her life, with everything she had planned to do etched in with permanent marker.  Little did she know that when people make plans for their lives, God just laughs and makes his own.

Lea whined continuously about giving Tucker a chance as she primped and prettied me up.

She dressed me in a dangerously low cut silver blouse that hugged my body like a glove.  A pair of black stretch pants, so no buttons would be broken Lea reasoned, and my over the knee black leather boots.  My long black hair fell in thick shiny soft waves and my eyes were smoky and sexy; a dangerous look for someone who really didn’t want to go on a date.

At 5:45, I was presented to Conner, who had sat in the living room for the last hour conspiring with Lea in telling me all the wonderful attributes of Tucker Bevli.

“Very hot,” Conner appraised me.

I stood in front of our full-length mirror.  I groaned and leaned my head on his shoulder looking away.  “You aren’t helping me at all.” I playfully punched him in the stomach. “I don’t want to date Tucker.”

Lea put her arm around my waist and turned me to face the mirror again.  “You are going to go on this date, whether you like it or not.  And you should let that insanely, rich, jaguar driving, Gucci wearing Greek god take you out more, and then you should pull the pole from up your ass and sleep with him.”  Then she smacked me on the ass.  Hard.

I watched myself in the mirror jump from the slap and laugh.

Five minutes later, Tucker texted me on my cell phone to tell me he was outside.  He didn’t even come in to get me.  Didn’t even call, just texted.  Prince Freaking Uncharming. Strike one.  I shook the thought and dragged myself outside to his waiting car.

I was assaulted by cologne when I opened the passenger side door for myself.  Strike two. He slid close to me and pecked me on the corner of my mouth with a kiss, wetly.  I clasped my hands together to stop myself from wiping it away.  Strike three.

“Are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asked; eyes sparkling, hair gelled to the sky.

“Well, aren’t we filling me with expectations,” I laughed.  “Best date ever?  Will I get to rate it after on a scale of 1 to 10?”

He gave me a thoughtful look and then smiled, “Nah, just a typed up report on my desk by morning.”  He laughed at his own joke.

“That would mean you’d have to make it worth writing about.”  I was a bit intrigued by what he might think the best date of my life would be, certain that it would be the furthest thing from the truth.  “The question I have is whether you are trying to impress me, make me happy, or just make yourself immortal?”

“Immortal?  What, like you’re a vampire, I let you bite my neck and I’ll get to live forever with a beautiful woman like you.  I would.  In a heartbeat.”

I’d never met an ass like him before.  Strike four.  “No, immortal because I would write about you.  Theoretically, writing about someone makes them immortal, because the words live beyond them, keeping them alive.”

“That doesn’t make sense, but any who, no.  It would be impressing you and making you happy.  Not that I wouldn’t love to be immortal.  I can think of some situations where that can be really useful.”

He just said “any who.”  What strike is this?

I laughed, “Oh, really?”

He sped down the street.  Within two minutes, he was pulling up to Columbus Circle, right in front of The Time Warner Center.  We could have walked there.

Noticing my puzzled look he purred, “I got reservations for Masa.”

I just stared at him.  Blankly.

Tucker jumped out of the jaguar, ran around to my side of the car, and waited for me to open my door.  Strike twenty-something. Maybe he’d break a nail if he had opened it for me? He hooked his arm around my waist and squeezed.  “Masa, Grace!  It’s the most expensive place to eat in Manhattan.  It’s a two hour eating experience that you’re going to love!”

Inside was simple and elegant.  We were escorted to an exquisite bar and our coats were taken as if we were family visiting.  Noticing me without my coat, Tucker’s eyes filled with pride. His chest visibly puffed out and he glanced around the room.  I hated it, and it made me feel dirty. Why should he feel pride from me?

A bottle of champagne was brought out for his approval; the staff called him by name.  The champagne was poured. Tucker sipped his and motioned for me to do the same.  It went down delicious and smooth; he smiled.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It tastes lovely, thank you.”

“It’s Gaston Chiquet Brut 1er Cru 2002.  It’s $150 a bottle.  Drink as much as you want,” he winked.  Oh, I fucking will.

Without ordering, we were served food.  Sushi.  Well, at least I had $150 champagne to fill me up.  I think that someone should warn you before taking you to a sushi bar, since it might be nice for a person to be able to tell you they HATED SUSHI!

Toro, uni, aoyagi, sayori...I kept drinking to make myself not think about what I was eating.

“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning against the bar; eyeing me.

“Yes.”  Does he know ANY other adjectives?

“So tell me about you,” he said.

“Like what?” I asked gulping my champagne.

“Where did you grow up, where’d you go to school?  Stuff like that,” he explained.

I swallowed hard, champagne going right to my head.  I could tell him everything; that would send him packing.  It almost made Jacob leave me and he was my brother.  Tucker wouldn’t believe me though; he wouldn’t even hear me.  “I grew up in Belle Harbor, a block away from the beach.  Lea and I lived next door to each other.”  My knees started tingling from the champagne.  “I’ve been to a couple of schools and I studied everything.”

“I was thinking,” he said, proving he did not intend to get to know any more about me.  Sure, you were thinking.  “Why don’t I see if there’s any room for an assistant in our office?  I was thinking I could help you out, since you don’t have a job right now.”  He smiled so wide, I noticed where all the sushi was stuck in teeth.

“Like a secretary?  I don’t think that’s for me.  But, thank you for thinking of me.”  Another bottle of champagne came to the table.

“Nonsense.  Grace, you need a job.  My firm is the best place, and when I become partner you could be my personal secretary.”  His eyebrows moved up and down.

I barked out a laugh that was a little too loud.  “Nope.  I’m good where I’m at right now, thanks.”  More sips of champagne.  Does this come with an IV?

“So what are your plans then?” he demanded. Condescending jerk.

“Just plan to keep breathing for now, that’s about it. Well, until I stop, that is,” I said laughing.

“Stop breathing?  Don’t be silly.  God, this shit is delicious!”

I giggled.  He was absurd and I was getting tipsy.

“So am I making myself immortal?”  The question caught me so off guard, I sucked in my breath loudly.

“I take that as a YES!”  He fist pumped.  YES! I just said he fist pumped!  I needed to get the hell away from this spiked haired, sushi eating, fist pumping jackass as soon as it was humanly possible.

I choked on my words laughing.  “Tucker being immortal would suck, even for you.”

“Bullshit!”  He was getting drunk.

“Just think of everything you love and have now, slipping away from you.  People you love getting sick, getting old, dying.  Again and again.  You wouldn’t be able to stand the sorrow.”

“Psf.  I’d fuck a lot of girls.  Ha.  I’ll be like Shane and Alex.”

I shrugged, and then agreed.  “Okay so immortality is good for having lots of sex. That’s about it.  This is a dumb conversation.”

He spoke endlessly about the sushi, making it insanely hard not to picture myself eating the sushi.  However, I stomached it, because he was holding the conversation quite well all by himself and I didn’t feel like talking to him any longer.  He ordered another bottle of champagne.

After an hour of the torture, Tucker’s phone began ringing continuously; for fifteen minutes straight, until he shut it off, embarrassed.  “Fucking assholes.  Probably Shane or Alex trying to fuck up my date with you!  They both wanna tap your ass.”

“You curse a lot when you’re drunk,” I smiled.  “Tap what?”

“Your ass, Grace.  I wanna tap your ass in this fucking bar,” he chuckled.

“No can do, there’s way too much sushi, it would be weird.”

My phone started ringing.  I pressed my screen to see who it was.  Lea. Something must have happened.

“Helllooo,” I sang.

“Grace?” Shane’s voiced echoed in my ears.  There’s that butterfly again.  What the hell is with the butterfly?  Doesn’t he know I can’t let myself feel...human?

“Shane?”

“Where’s Tucker?  He’s not answering his phone?  Where are you?”  Shane demanded.

I heard the phone being yanked out of his hands and I flinched, accidentally pressing down on the screen.  Lea’s voice screamed through the restaurant.  Whoops, speakerphone.

Seemingly humiliated by my loud conversation, Tucker tried to wrestle the phone out of my hands.  His face was crimson and he looked like he was about to explode.

“What is wrong with you, Tucker?  Give me my phone back!” I yelled, not caring who heard me in the restaurant.  Lea and Shane’s voices were still on speaker, loudly screaming profanities to the entire restaurant.

Tucker drunkenly poked the screen of my phone five times to get it off speaker. Everyone in the restaurant waited to see what would happen next.  He looked around wildly; his knuckles were white from squeezing my phone so hard.  “You are embarrassing me!” he snapped.

I looked him dead in the eyes.  “Give me my phone or I’ll give you something to really be embarrassed about.”

He immediately slid the phone across the table.  I put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Grace, are you okay?” Shane’s voice asked.

“What’s going on, Shane?”

“We need Tucker.  Alex needs a lawyer.  He’s in Manhattan Central Booking.”

“Oh no, what happened.  Oh, forget it, you can tell me later.  But, I don’t think it’s a good idea that Tucker drives, and you might need to call his father if you want a lawyer who isn’t drunk.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Shane mumbled.  “Where are you? I’ll come and get you,” he whispered.

“We’re eating sushi,” I explained as if that told him where to pick me up.

“Ew.”

“Tell me about it,” I laughed.

“So where would you be eating this sushi, exactly?” he asked.

“Just meet us at The Time Warner Center in Columbus Circle.  Wait, how are you going to get us?”  The phone clicked off.

I looked up at Tucker, irritation stirring in his eyes.  “That was Shane.  We have to pay the bill and go.  He’ll be here to pick us up in a minute.”

“No fucking way.  What the fuck is he picking us up for?  This date isn’t over.  I’m not done with you!”  The irritation was now replaced with anger in his eyes.

Done with me?  I was going to have to kick this boy’s ass to teach him how to treat a woman!  “Alex is in Manhattan Central Booking.  He needs a lawyer.”

His anger evaporated and his shoulders sunk low.  “Shouldn’t have drunk so much.”  He looked at me with sad eyes.  “I’m sorry; this was such a great date.”

I walked to get my coat, laughing all the way.  I tried to pay for half of the meal, but he wouldn’t allow me, telling me he had already prepaid for half of it and I wasn’t working, so I should be broke and coming to him for a job soon.

The cold air from standing outside sobered him up enough to call his father who agreed to meet with him and Alex.  I stood on the street shivering, wondering what trouble Alex could have gotten into with two broken arms.