Page 36 of Middle Ground
JACKSON
From the minuteMeyer met me in the parking lot of the inn so I could drive us to the restaurant, I knew it was a stupid fucking idea to invite her to dinner.
We’re a stark contrast—her in ripped jeans, a plain white t-shirt and polka dot flip flops; me in my usual suit and dress shoes. She knew I would wear a suit because I always do. She, on the other hand, made it a point to dress as casually as possible to sabotage our non-date. I could tell by the smug gleam in her eye as I scanned her outfit.
Little does she know, my perusal was in appreciation, not annoyance.
It’s a well-established fact that Meyer Ellison’s jeans cling to her ass and hips like they were crafted just for her. And her t-shirt is snug around the bust, leaving nothing of her full tits to the imagination. The flip flops, with their multicoloured polka dots, just make me want to smile.
So, like I said, horrible fucking idea.
I can handle, though barely, the wayward thoughts I haveabout Meyer when we’re in a work setting. But at dinner? That’s going to require herculean effort to stop my mind from wandering.
I planned to take her to Calderville, but at the last second, I veer off the highway and onto a street that will take us into town.
“What the fuck, Vaughan?” Meyer grips the handle of the door. “I agreed to dinner, not to end up in a ditch.”
I wince. “Sorry.”
Sitting across from Meyer in the romantic low lighting of a fancy Italian restaurant? I think I’d rather eat gravel for breakfast. The pizza place on Main will have to do.
There’s nothing sexy about Papa’s Pizza Emporium.
“How’d you even manage to get your licence?” she continues.
“Never underestimate the power of a good bribe.”
“Seriously?”
I let out a chuckle. “No, Meyer. I earned my licence just like everyone else, shitting my pants beside the scary driving examiner.”
She glares at me from her seat, and I smile. We ride the rest of the way in silence. There’s luckily a spot right outside the pizza place, so I park and we head in.
“Meyer!” a guy calls from behind the counter. He looks to be about Meyer’s age, and he’s wearing a grin that could only be described as shit-eating. “How’s it going? How’s Mama Ellison? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
Meyer smiles. “Hey, Rudy. I’m good. So is my mom. She’s apparently got a hot new instructor for her water exercise class, so she’s rather smitten at the moment.”
When Rudy’s eyes land on me, he scowls. “This him?” he asks Meyer, jerking a thumb in my direction.
Meyer sighs. “This is him.”
Never in my life have I been referred to with such disdain.
The cool glare that settles on his face leads me to believe that a handshake would be unwelcome, so I settle for a nod. “Jackson Vaughan. Nice to meet you.”
“Rudy Ciccarelli,” he replies.
I notice that he makes it a pointnotto say it’s nice to meet me.
The thing I’ve noticed most about Fraisier Creek is that its residents are loyal to a fault. On the one hand, it’s endearing to be witness to such a tight-knit community rallying around my business partner. But on the other, it’s been making my life a hell of a lot more difficult than it needs to be.
Like Meyer, everyone in Fraisier Creek seems to think I’m out to destroy their precious inn. I’m not sure what I can do to convince them otherwise. I’m just hoping that after some time, they’ll begin to see reason.
Cherie saw something special in this place. For the first time, I’m beginning to think that maybe she’s right. When I first got here, I was only in this to kill time and fulfill my grandmother’s wish, but now? Now, I’m invested.
“What am I making you? Your usual?” Rudy asks.
“Yes, please,” Meyer replies sweetly.
