Redemption (Iris Series) (6 page)

“Well,” she said breezily, “I just have to get through my first ‘no sex’ date tomorrow, then I’ll be on my way to the new me.”

“Don’t even tell me you’re going out with one of these bozos after you’ve already made your decision.” 

Now
that
got a reaction.

“The date is already on the books.  I can’t back out.”

“Of
course
you can back out.  Girls do it all of the time.”

“Well,
I
don’t,” she huffed.

“Does this guy know he’s not getting any at the end of his date?”

“He shouldn’t expect it!  It’s not like I give it up to every single guy I go out with. Guys shouldn’t expect sex at the end of a date.  And no, he doesn’t know yet.  But he will.  At some point during the evening,” she muttered.

“How did you meet this guy?”  He crossed his arms over his chest.

“At the gym.”

“Uh, huh.  Great.  And who approached who for this date?”

“First of all, why are you pissed?  And second of all, why do you care?”  She wanted to smack him.

“Answer my question first,” he challenged.

“I approached him, if you must know.  He’s a very nice guy.  I only met him last week.  I wanted to try out my softer approach.  And before you ask, no, I didn’t come on too strong.”  Jon was giving her a look that said
Yeah, right.
  “Fuck, Jon.  It’s not like I mauled the guy, or anything.”

“How do you know he’s a nice guy?  What’s he like? 
What does he do for a living?”

“I already answered one of your questions.  Now you answer mine,” she demanded.

“What were they again?”  The jerk was trying to buy some time.

She narrowed her eyes then rolled them.  She snapped her fingers.  “Pay attention, Jon.  Stay with me here.  They were:  Why are you so pissed, and why do you care?”

“Pissed is a strong word.  I’m just a little surprised that you would make such a huge decision about your sex life, then choose to still go out with a guy who may have certain expectations.  And I care because I don’t want some guy taking advantage of you in your,” he paused for effect, “weakened state.”

She had begun to think him sweet when he started with
I don’t want some guy to take advantage of you.
  But it was the last part that stopped her in her tracks.   

“What?!  What the fuck does that mean, my weakened state?”  For some reason she found that hilarious and started to crack up.

“For you, it
is
a weakened state.  You said yourself you don’t have a lot of experience in this area.  How do you know you won’t be tempted beyond what you can bear?”

Wiping the tears of hilarity from her eyes, she said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Johnny Be Good.  Do you think I’m some kind of nympho, or something?  And the only way I’ll know that I can handle it is if I give it a try.”

“Now it’s your turn to answer my questions:  How do you know he’s a nice guy, and what does he do for a living?  Does he even have a job?”

She chuckled.  “Yes, Dad, he has a job.  He’s an accountant.  That’s how I know he’s a nice guy.”

“An
accountant
?!  He’s a fucking accountant?”  Now it was his turn to laugh, and boy, did he ever.  “An accountant doesn’t make him a nice guy, Yan.  It makes him boring as shit.”

She thought the same thing, but if she was going to alter the types of men she was going to date, she needed to start somewhere.  You can’t turn a ship on a dime, and all that.

“He wasn’t boring as shit.  He was very nice.”

“What’s his name?”

“Poindexter,” she said without missing a beat.

He blinked.  “Shut the fuck up.  It is not.”

She gave him a saucy smile and shrugged.  He smiled back and rolled his eyes at her.  Not for the first time had she wished Jon was interested in her, and at the same time, she wished
she
wasn’t so interested in
him
.

“It’s Eugene.”

“Seriously, Yan.  What’s his name?”

“I’m serious.  That’s his name.”

He shook his head.  “It’s
Eugene
?  Wow, Yan.  You sure know how to pick ’em.”

“Alright, that’s enough.  I’m going to go out with him tomorrow night, we’re going to have a nice time, and I’m not going to have sex.  So, that’s that.”  She brushed off her hands and got up from the floor, taking her wine glass with her.  “You want some more wine?”

“No, I’m gonna get going.”  He got up too, and followed her into the kitchen carrying his empty wine glass with him.  She took it from him, their fingers touching.  They looked at each other briefly, but ignored the spark that was felt. 

At least there was a spark on her side.  She began rinsing the glasses in the sink.

He leaned against the counter next to her.  “So, what time are you going out tomorrow night?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, then said, “He’s picking me up after work and we’re going out for a late dinner.”

He nodded.  “What time are you gonna be home?”

She put the glasses on the counter and put her hands on her hips.  “Really, Jon?” she asked dryly.

“Maybe you should have the self-defense class
before
this date.  Because once he realizes you’re not interested in him for
that
, he might get a little handsy,” he smirked.

“What the fuck, Jon?  You don’t think he would go out with me just for
me
?  To get to know me?  Do all men really expect sex at the end of the first date?”  She was getting worked up again.  Maybe Eugene really
did
want to go out with her to get to know her.  It was possible.  Stranger things had happened.

“No.  I’m sorry.”  He exhaled sharply.  “Of course he’ll want to get to know the real you.  He’s a jerk if he doesn’t.  I didn’t mean to imply that wasn’t possible because he would be an idiot not to simply enjoy the evening with you.  But you
are
gorgeous and he’s going to want it, trust me.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  They stood looking at each other, then Jonathan finally spoke.

“I hope he’s a good guy, and I hope you have a good time.  Minus the sex.”  He smirked then a thought hit him.  “What are you going to wear?”

She sighed and put out her hand, palm up.  “Gimme your phone.”

He gave her a wary look.  “Why?”

“Because I’m gonna text you at the end of the night tomorrow, and this way you’ll know that even in my weakened state I’ve prevailed.  Come on, give it to me.  I’m putting my number in it.”

He gave it to her, watching her with an amused look.  “Seriously.  What are you gonna wear?”

“None of your fuckin’ business, Johnny Be Good.  Maybe I’ll wear a pair of shorts that barely cover my ass crack and a shirt that’s practically painted on.  You don’t need to worry your pretty little self about what I’m gonna wear,” she mumbled, while putting her number in his phone and calling herself so she had his.  “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” she said, handing him back his phone.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad.  I’m just looking out for you.”

Her panties already
were
in a wad thanks to him.  But it was the second comment that stopped her.  She looked up at him, and took a cleansing breath.  “Thank you.  And I appreciate it.”  She took in the details of his face noting his lips.  She wondered what he would taste like.  She wanted to lick him all over.  “I’ve never had a guy friend before.  Is this what I have to expect every time I go out?”

“At least until you find the right guy.  One who will respect you and is worthy of you.  Everyone deserves that.”

She paused at his word choice.  It was so spot on.  “Wow, Jon.  That was really sweet,” she said, a little startled. 

“I have my moments.”  He pushed away from the counter. “I’ll get out of your hair.”  He walked over to the front door with her following behind.

He put his hand on the doorknob, then turned to her.  “Be careful tomorrow.  Really.”
                She gave him an exasperated look.  “I will.  I’ll text you after.”

“If you insist,” he sighed. 

“Whatever,” she said rolling her eyes.  “Now get out of here.  I’ve got shit to do.”  She waved her hand at him, shooing him out.

He chuckled and opened the door.  “Talk to y
ou tomorrow.”  He gave her a pointed look then was gone.

She closed the door with a light laugh, already looking forward to the date the next night if for no other reason than to text Johnny Be Good afterwards.

Shit
, she swore.  Jonathan’s face floated into her mind’s eye.  She just remembered she didn’t have any batteries for B.O.B. 

It was going to be a long night.

Fuck a duck.

It was well after 10pm, and Ayanna sat in the bathroom stall of what had to be the worst Italian restaurant in all of Manhattan.  Mumbling to herself, she dug through her purse for her phone.

The portion sizes were ri
dic
ulous.  They charged a fortune for one serving of what looked like an entire box of overcooked pasta on a plate, served with salty marinara sauce and sub-par meatballs.  She could’ve made the whole plate for less than four dollars and it would’ve been spectacular.  The restaurant charged nearly five
times
that much.

And Jonathan was right, the rat bastard.  Eugene
was
boring as shit.  She needed to get out, and she needed to get out
now
.  Phone finally in hand, she began to text.
              AS: 
R u there?  Call me in 5 mins.

While she sat there waiting for a response, she replayed the last agonizing hour of her life.  Eugene hadn’t once asked her about herself. 

Not. Once. 

He just kept going on and on about some volleyball league he played with, and how they’d finally made it to the playoffs.  And did she know he was in one all year around?   Except during tax season, of course.

Her phone pinged and she grabbed it like a lifeline.

JW:
What happened?  It’s early so I’m assuming you’ve prevailed.  R u home already?

Geez, Johnny boy.  Save the questions, will ya? 

AS:
Just call me in 5 mins.  I’ll explain later.

She put the phone back in her bag and left the stall, washing her hands at the sink.  She really had tried.  She was sure Eugene was a nice guy, but he just wasn’t for her, and she didn’t know if she could sit through another minute of what she’d already sat through. 

He’d said this was his favorite restaurant.  That’s when she should’ve left kicking and screaming.

She left the tacky restroom with creepy murals of old Italian men serving dripping meatballs to patrons seated at a table covered with a checkered tablecloth.  Did she mention these murals with creepy men and dripping meatballs were in the
bathroom?
  She wound her way back to the table.

There Eugene sat, still working on consuming his entire box of spaghetti that could feed a family of four, napkin tucked into the neck of his button down shirt.

Ayanna sighed. 
Hurry the fuck up, Jon.

She sat and smiled at him.  “I’m back.”

“Aren’t the bathrooms great?” he asked in between bites.  “Mario’s daughter painted all of the murals in them.”

“Well, there’s a shocker,” she muttered under her breath.  “And how old is his daughter?” she asked.

“She’s only 13!  I told her she should go to art school.”

Ayanna’s phone began to ring. 
Thank the good Lord above.

“Oh, I’m sorry.  Just give me a sec, Eugene.”  Ayanna answered and immediately said, “Hey sis, what’s up?”

Jonathan started laughing.  “Wow.  That bad, huh?  Are you still with him?”

“Oh, no!  What happened?” she said in a panicked voice.

Still chuckling, he said, “Do you need me to come get you?  I mean, how bad are we talkin’ here?”

“I’ll leave right now, sweetie.  It’ll be okay.  The guy’s an idiot.  You totally deserve better.”

“I could’ve told you the guy was an idiot.  And yes, you do deserve better.  When are you coming home?  Soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon, sweetie.  I’m on a date right now, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”  Ayanna looked at Eugene sympathetically and mouthed the word
sorry
. 

“Great,
sweetie
.  Call when you’re on the way.  Can’t wait to hear about
this
one.”

“Alright, baby.  I’m leaving right now.”

“
Baby
?  Ooh,” he teased.