Page 54 of Not Falling for the Forward
We fall into a fit of laughter.
***
A few hours later I am sat across from Jack in the fanciest restaurant I have ever been to. It’s dimly lit and, thanks to the candles in the centre of the table, has a very intimate vibe.
Jack looks utterly edible tonight in a dark blue button down and jacket. Thankfully, he told me to dress for somewhere ‘nice’, hence the shopping trip this morning. I’d settled on a floor length black dress that is cut low in the front to show off my curves. I’d forgone my new red lace lingerie, its new home the very back of my underwear drawer. Besides, there was no way I’d be able to wear a bra with the cut of this dress anyway, I’d had to be very selective with knickers due to the fabric it’s made of.
We are just finishing our drinks—wine for me, water for Jack—after the most delicious meal I have ever consumed, when the waiter comes over to the table. “Sir, I do believe there are a few people out the front attempting to get a picture of the two of you.” He signals over his shoulder with his thumb.
Jack leans to look over my shoulder and his face drops, “Shit.”
I turn to get a look for myself and see a crowd of about ten people standing outside the restaurant doors. There is an older gentleman stood directly in front of the doors who appears to be telling them they can’t come in.
“My manager is trying to get rid of them, but they’re having none of it, apparently someone saw you and tipped off the press. I can assure you it was not a member of our staff, and you have my sincerest apologies that this is happening here,” the waiter says.
I nod at him politely, not listening to his apology. I don’t care who’s fault it is, only that it is happening. I turn back to Jack, eyes wide, my heart racing, “Jack, I’m not ready to be that public!” I say, panic raising my voice.
“I know, babe,” Jack replies reaching for my hand. I give it to him. He stands, lifting me with him. “Is there a back exit, my man?” he asks the waiter.
“Of course, we already asked the valet to bring your car around, it’s through the kitchen, follow me.” Jack leads me, following our waiter through the tables and into the kitchen. I sneak one look back over my shoulder and see the huddle of people by the door getting more aggressive with the restaurant manager. Poor guy.
I’m almost blinded by the contrast of the lights as we enter the kitchen, the brightness hurts my eyes and I have to close them for a second whilst they adjust. I grip Jack’s hand, like an anchor, trusting he will lead me to safety.
I am ushered outside, only realising when the temperature drops suddenly, my skin prickling. Before I know it, I am being fastened into the passenger seat of Jack’s car, his big strong body leaning over mine to clip me in. Jack runs around the front of the car and we set off at speed before he has fully done up his seatbelt.
Panting, sprawled across the seat I turn to face Jack, who is monitoring his mirrors, I assume to ensure we’re not being followed. The sight of him makes me bark out a laugh, and once I’ve started, I can’t stop. Jack turns to me confusion making his brows pinch together. “It just feels like we’ve committed a crime and are on the run,” I say between giggles which makes Jack bark out a laugh.
I take a deep breath to calm myself but as soon as I look back at Jack, his shoulders shaking, I burst in to manic laughter again. We sit and giggle at each other all the way back to his place.
***
Jack
We sneak in through the underground parking of my building and straight into the elevator that takes us to my apartment. I haven't let go of Emily’s hand for longer than a few seconds since I took it in the restaurant and I don’t want to.
I’m suddenly nervous as I unlock the door to my apartment, what if she doesn’t like it? I take a deep breath and lead her in.
“Wooooow,” she says as she looks around taking in the entry way and living area. “So, this is where I could live if I was rich?” She winks over her shoulder at me having taken a few steps ahead and breaking the hand holding I was enjoying.
I huff a laugh at her teasing, we both know the kind of money I have compared to her, and she’s not wrong about my living conditions. You can only afford a place like mine if you’re rich. A top floor apartment in a gated community, doesn’t come cheap.
“Jesus, your sofa is massive!” she blurts coming around the corner to see the plush eight-seater that takes up most of the room. “Looks comfy,” she says.
“Why don’t you try it out? I’ll get us some wine,” I say.
“Us?” She shouts after me. “You’re drinking?”
“One glass isn’t going to hurt.” Plus, I need to alcohol to calm my nerves. Bringing her back here was a mistake. Her being in my space, in that fucking dress. After a perfect date. I might have tempted myself too much this time. If she asks, I’m going to break.
Two glasses of red in my hands I return to see Emily has gotten herself cosy leaning back into the big cushions, eyes closed. She opens them as I chuckle as her quietly. “I feel like I’m in a cocoon of clouds,” she says, a content smile on her lips.
“That was the tag line when I bought it.” I grin, sitting next to her and placing the glasses on the small table in front of us.
“Do you entertain often?” she asks.
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, this sofa could fit your whole team on. And, I’m not super techy but, I know that sound system you have is state of the art,” she says pointing to one of the speakers mounted in the corner of the room. Shit, she’s observant, I’ll give her that.
