13. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Griffin
“How did you possibly get a reservation here?” Kaitlyn asks when the driver we hire for the evening rolls to a stop outside of Via Carota in the West Village.
I look over at her and grin. “I have my ways.” She rolls her eyes in response and goes to open her door, but I stop her with a hand to her arm. “Oh, no you don’t. This is a date, remember? Stay put.”
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
I climb out of the back seat of the large, black SUV and secure the bottom button of my deep, navy-blue sport coat. The hustle and bustle of New York City is loud immediately, even at this later dinner hour.
There are many people eating at tables that line the sidewalk, on top of others waiting outside for their chance to dine, so all eyes are on us when I round the vehicle and pull the door open, extending my hand.
“Shall we?”
“I guess I should get used to all eyes on you,” she whispers in my ear.
“On the contrary,” I whisper back, “all eyes are on you.” I place a gentle kiss at the base of her ear. “There will be more eyes to come. I may or may not have placed a bit of information in just the right places to encourage a lens or two.”
My hand slides into the small of her back as I pull the door open for her to enter ahead of me. “Do me a solid and at least let me know if I have basil in my teeth or something at any point. I have to at least look like I belong here.”
I let that comment go until we’re led to our table. It’s a quiet corner set, right up front, by the row of windows with the beautiful potted plants just outside the glass. The splashes of white, fuchsia, and purple circle Kaitlyn and her pale skin. She looks lovelier than I’ve ever seen her. “Why would you think you don’t belong?”
“I mean, look at this place.” She delicately waves her hand around. “It’s so chic here. I’m just a lowly lawyer from Virginia.”
“Can you do me a favor, please?”
“Absolutely.”
“Don’t talk negatively about yourself in my presence. I won’t have it.”
She doesn’t get a chance to respond before a young man with a ponytail and intricate tattoos covering his arms approaches to take our drink order.
Kaitlyn looks to me and I motion her way. “Lady’s choice this evening.”
She smiles and I can’t help but match it. I suddenly realize I’d do anything, absolutely anything, to keep that smile on her face.
“Well, I’m a sucker for a sweet white wine, so I suppose we’ll take a couple of glasses of whichever you’d recommend,” she tells him.
“Make it a bottle, please,” I add.
Our server nods with a quick look my way. I know he’s looking at me for approval. He’s not going to get it. This lovely lady is fully in charge. She’s not only in charge per our contract, but because I’m enjoying the power she’s taking. I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever felt an emotion quite like this. Safe to say, anyone around us could mistake it for love.
“You don’t know what you bargained for with a whole bottle of wine. There’d better be a basket of bread to go with that. Wine is an instant truth serum for me.”
“I love all the nuggets of wisdom you so freely give to me. My mental notebook may have a hard time keeping up.” I slide my hand slowly over to her side of the table with a quick and subtle look, hoping she’ll take it.
Her keen ability to receive my cues allows her to weave her fingers with mine. “I hope this doesn’t look like we’re still in high school. I’m nervous and a terrible actress.”
“Take the pressure off yourself. Just focus on relaxing and enjoying yourself. You never have to be anyone other than who you are. I like her.”
“Is what I’m wearing even okay? Maybe I’m a little underdressed?” She smooths her free hand down the maxi-length, deep-wine-colored dress she chose.
I slide my thumb along hers. “You look beautiful.”
Our wine arrives, but I don’t release her hand. It feels so natural to hold it like this.
She lifts her glass my way. “To this crazy adventure we are embarking on.”
I raise mine in return, clinking it against hers. “Cheers to that.”
Time starts to slip by without either of us even realizing. The conversation is flowing as smoothly as the wine. I could talk to this woman for hours.
We are three appetizers deep when the topic shifts to movies.
“I know I seem like I’d have snooty, British taste in films, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Well, now I need to know. Tell me a movie you like.”
I peer at her over my wine glass before answering, “ The Hangover .”
She nearly chokes on her drink and starts to laugh and cough at the same time. “Oh my God.”
“I told you. I’m full of surprises.”
“If you start quoting it, you’ll see my least attractive quality. I snort when something makes me laugh so hard I can hardly breathe.”
“I'm going to need to make that happen sooner than later.”
“Ooh. You know what you could do then?”
“No. Please tell me.” I watch her trace her fingertip along the rim of her glass in awe. Even her hands are attractive.
“I need to see you reenact the scene where Hugh Grant dances to the Pointer Sisters. That would absolutely cap it for me.”
“Hugh Grant?” I smile. “Wow, I haven’t even thought about Love Actually in so long.”
My face begins to ache with laughter. I can’t recall laughing this much in years. There’s a stark difference between the laughs you share with your mates and the laughter you have with a woman. “Sounds like your British aversion is just a cover,” I continue. “You secretly love us. Me thinks thou dost protest too much.”
She drains the remainder of her glass. “And me thinks it could just be a Griffin Shaw thing. You are pretty charming when you want to be. Not to mention, you aren’t terrible to look at.”
“I like wine-drunk Kaitlyn. She’s very complimentary of me.”
“Wait until you meet tequila-drunk Kaitlyn.”
“I have a feeling I’ll enjoy every version of you over our time together.”
Kaitlyn
When we first arrived at the restaurant, I was acutely aware of the eyes on us, but now that we’ve settled in, I don’t even mind.
I caught what appeared to be a girls’ night out, simply staring at us as we exited our car and walked in. At first, my insecurities got the better of me and I started to think maybe I was being judged for something. What I’ve come to realize is, people can’t help but notice Griffin for a number of different reasons.
His obvious model looks and extremely pleasing jawline can be noticed from a hundred yards away. Then as you get closer, his perfectly tailored clothing spawns one of two questions: what designer is he wearing or, shit, what is under those clothes? Male or female…you’re not immune.
The thing I think I hate most is, the first night I interacted with him, I immediately wrote him off as a conceited asshole so full of himself that he couldn’t possibly be intelligent or kind. He was just another man who likes to beat his chest when he’s around women. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Even in our short time together, I find Griffin to be protective in good ways, smart in all ways beyond any prep school or university could provide. I do find him to have an amazing sense of humor. I hope to experience more of that. But, last, and certainly not least, I forgot the cardinal rule my parents instilled in me. Actually, it’s part of why I got into the law. Every person has a story. You need to dig sometimes to find it. I guess my real digging begins today.
“Kaitlyn? Hello? Did I lose you just then? We can stop the flow of grapes if it’s become too much.” He smiles.
I giggle quietly. “No. I was just giving myself a private pep talk. I realize I know a few things about you and you know a few things about me, but, as you say, if we’re going to make this work, we need to know more than surface stories. They help, but I want to know you and you need to know me. That would include your whole story…thoughts, feelings. Are you okay with that?”
“My whole story meaning what, exactly?”
“We need to know things about one another that two people in a serious relationship would know.”
“Okay, I’ll go first. Will you tell me about your family?” he asks. “I’ve heard you speak about your sister and father, but not your mother.”
My hand instinctively goes to the necklace hanging delicately at my chest.
“My mother passed away when I was twenty. She was sick and fought like hell, but cancer is a mean, mean bitch.”
“Christ, Kaitlyn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No.” I reach over for his hand. “It’s all right. It’s a fair thing to want to know, and if we are really close, you’d know these things.”
“I still have so many things I wish I could have told her or things I needed to ask. My dad has been amazing, so has my sister. I wanted to quit college. They wouldn’t have it. It took a lot of convincing, and therapy, to keep on, but in the end, I know that’s what she would have wanted. Gilly, my sister, Gillian, she took on that mother role.
“We’re a decade apart in age. Growing up, I was like her baby in a lot of ways too. She’s my person. I mean, I have a ton of close friends, but when I tell Gilly something, it’s like I’m telling my mom too, you know? Is Tobias your person? I mean, I’m sorry if it feels like I’m pressing about your brother. I’m not.”
“I didn’t think you were.” He looks down at his wine for a moment then smiles. Maybe at a memory? “My brother and I, even with our differences, were best friends, so I guess you could say I had two ‘persons.’ Tobias, Joseph, and I were a trio that was a force to be reckoned with.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did he pass?” I hate myself for asking, but I think it’s important I know. It’s a formative event in his life. I could easily be asked about it.
“He was taking a chartered flight from Dublin back to London. There was some kind of mechanical malfunction and the engine died. The pilot tried to take them down easy, but in the end…” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I had more words of wisdom or something super profound to say that would help. In the end, all I’ve ever had is, it fucking sucks.”
He offers me a small smile at my word choice before he pulls his hand out from underneath mine to tenderly drag his fingertips down my cheek. It’s a small gesture of affection, but I also see it coming from a place of understanding. The more we talk, the more I see us as very similar people, not this large gap of wealth or knowledge.
“Your skin is so soft,” Griffin whispers.
“Good genes,” I whisper back.
Griffin’s eyes flick to the window behind me. “This is not a line, I swear. There are lenses across the street peering in. Would it be all right if I leaned over to kiss you?”
My heart leaps into my throat. I knew this moment would come, of course, but being faced with the reality of it is something brand new.
For a fleeting second, I forget this is staged. It’s not real, but all I want at this moment is to feel his lips on mine. I nod my consent and wait while he leans forward to close the gap between us. Time slows to a snail’s pace.
I can feel the heat of his lips nearing mine when a voice pulls us from our bubble.
“Griffin Shaw?” a man says from our side and when I look up, I’m glued to my seat. I knew this place was frequented by celebrities, but Oscar winner Julian Stone wasn’t even on my radar.
“Julian,” Griffin says, rising to his feet to shake hands with him.
“It’s been a long time. How are your parents? Are they loving their new home? I’m still shocked by the play yard request in the back of the property.”
“Yeah, well, becoming a grandparent has become his new religion. Who is your lovely dinner date tonight? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Where are my manners?” Griffin says. “I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend. Kaitlyn Logan, I’d like you to meet Julian Stone.”
My brain fries out. Not only was I just introduced for the first time as Griffin Shaw’s girlfriend, but it’s to none other than Julian Stone. If I was still a teen, he’d be the wallpaper on my phone and have half of the photos saved in my gallery. I take his hand. His soft firm grip is my instant hold on reality.
“Girlfriend? Wow. It’s about time someone made an honest man of you. It’s my pleasure to meet you, Kaitlyn.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Stone.”
“We’re all friends here. Please, call me Julian. My wife will be sorry she missed you.”
“How is Alexandra?”
“She’s amazing. She wanted to be on this trip with me, but Lila’s ear infection had other ideas.”
“I’d love to see pictures of them if you have any,” I ask quietly.
“Are you kidding? That’s what most of my pictures are nowadays.”
Griffin slides in beside me as Julian takes Griffin’s former chair. We talk like we’ve known each other for years. After about ten minutes, Julian rises from the chair. “I’m sorry to meet and run, but I’d like to video chat with Lex and the kids before bedtime. It’s sort of our routine when I travel without them.”
“I totally understand, Jules. It was good to see you.”
“Don’t act like this is the last time you’ll see me. I brought my partner in crime to take Lex’s place at the gala tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll get a dance with your lady here?”
“Gala?” I question, turning my eyes toward Griffin.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I forgot to tell you. I guess I was too excited to have you to myself. It’s a charity gala for the local Children’s Hospital. I try to attend if I’m going to be in town.”
A gala? What the hell am I going to wear?
“That sounds wonderful, and of course, I’ll save a dance for you, Mr. Stone.”
“Julian, please call me Julian.”
We all rise from our seats to say our goodbyes to him and once we’re alone, the reality of what just happened starts to sink in.
“That was… random… and absolutely incredible. You know Julian Stone?”
“I know a lot of people, Kaitlyn,” Griffin says casually. “And don’t think we won’t finish what we started before. I still want that kiss.”
As time passes, we grow more and more comfortable with one another. It’s happening much faster and more naturally than I could’ve expected. We move in sync as we eat, as we chat, and even now as we are walking back to the sidewalk to wait for the car to circle the block to pick us up.
I’m acutely aware of his hand on the small of my back, but I’m equally aware of the camera flashes I see out of the corner of my eye here and there.
I feel Griffin lean down and then he whispers in my ear, “See. This wasn’t so bad, was it?”
His voice sends a tickle up my side and I can’t help but grin. “It was amazing.”
His free hand comes up, cupping my jaw. There’s power in his touch and I swear I can feel myself vibrating from it.
“Now, about that kiss.”
I lick my lips as he dips his head and our mouths connect. If you look closely, I bet you could see a little spark shine. Not that I thought about him kissing me before our deal, but if I look back on it, I never would have thought he’d know how to be soft.
His lips float and drift over mine in an easy dance. My arm, with my fingers gripping the handles of my handbag, drapes around his shoulder as his grip tightens around my waist. All feeling evaporates from my knees down and his touch is what’s holding me up. I’m not sure if we would have stopped when we did if it wasn’t for a gentle tap of the horn from our driver.
I can feel the hint of a smile from Griffin as our lips part. “I guess we gave them a bigger show than needed.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think it was just right. No one with eyes would question the sincerity of that kiss. It felt more than real for me.”
I try not to read into the fact our hands stay laced together the entire ride back to my apartment. There are no eyes on us, no cameras flashing, no one to convince, but we don’t want to relinquish our connection.
When the car rolls to a stop on my block, I ask the question that’s been rolling around in my head for the last ten minutes.
“Do you want to come upstairs and debrief?”
His face splits into a wide grin. “Rethink what you just said.”
It takes me a moment, then I can feel my face turning beet red. “Oh my God. That’s not what I meant.” I bury my face in my hands. “You know what I meant.” I sigh. “Do you want to come upstairs to talk about how we think it went? I can make some tea or coffee.”
“Tea would be perfect.”
While we ride the elevator to my tenth-floor apartment, my mind wanders through several mental photographs of how I left my place. Were the dirty clothes picked up? Did I take out the trash and do the dishes? Shit, did I clean out the cat box?
“Kaitlyn, I’m sure your home is in order,” he says as he pulls the back of my hand to his lips.
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I took a guess. It’s safe to say, I’m paying very close attention to all things said and unsaid. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good boyfriend?”
I smile. “So this is what those look like? It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten.”
“How long has it been, exactly? Like we said, we’ll need to know these things about one another.”
I watch the numbers light up as we ascend to my floor. “My most recent ex, Martin, and I broke up over a year ago.”
“Have you dated anyone since? Just casually?”
I shake my head. “Nothing I’d even consider relevant. There were dates here and there, of course, but all duds.”
“Silly bastards,” Griffin says and tugs on my hand when the elevator dings. “Lead the way.”
I walk slightly ahead of him, guiding him down the decades old hardwood floors that line the hall until we reach the third apartment from the end. 10C. My home.
I slip the key into the lock and push it open, only to be immediately met with a very hungry gray, British shorthair named Marilyn. She’s loudly demanding I feed her right this instant.
“Someone is cranky.” He laughs.
“Mari has serious attitude when her schedule is interrupted. Hello, baby, Mama’s here. Let us in and I’ll get you.” She sniffs the top of Griffin’s shoes before looking up at him. I’m getting the instant who the hell is this look. After I sneak by to fill her food bowl, I’m immediately occupied and more nervous than I was with cameras around. I don’t know what is up with that.
I set the newly filled bowl on the floor, expecting her to dive in and devour every bite immediately. When she doesn’t, I turn around to find her snuggled into Griffin’s neck, purring away. “Well, looks like you’ve made fast friends.”
“Usually, cats hate me with a passion. This one seems to think I’m her boyfriend.”
“Two-timing me already?” I tease.
“How was I supposed to resist this face?” he asks while giving Mari the best chin scratches.
“Look at that. She even has her eyes closed, savoring the sensations. What a little homewrecker.”
“All right, little love,” he says as he bends and lets her plop onto the floor. “Go have your dinner.”
She struts down the short hallway and into the kitchen.
“Follow her lead and you’ll see the living room. If you want to make yourself at home, I’ll work on our tea. I’m just going to slip out of these heels.”
“Sliding into something a little more comfortable?” He smirks devilishly.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sir… but yes.”
“Now, that is the version of the word a man could get used to.”
Griffin smiles as he shrugs out of his jacket, sliding it over one of my breakfast barstools. Behind my bedroom door, I kick my heels off until they slide under my bed. My purse lands on the chair in the corner. I crack the window next to my closet so the night air can flow in to cool my room. The clip on the bedside table becomes a welcome accessory as I twist my hair up off my neck.
When I return to the living room, Griffin is unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves then rolling them up methodically. I can’t explain it, but the sight of him doing that small thing makes me shiver. “Your hair looks as lovely up as it does down.”
“I’m sorry if I was staring.”
“Were you?” he asks.
“I’m going to be honest, Griffin. I don’t know about the outside world, but this night has felt like a full-blown date to me.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” I turn away from him to busy myself with filling up the kettle. “I guess it’s a little more confusing than I anticipated.”
“Are you reconsidering our arrangement?”
“No.” I shake my head and fire up the stove, placing the kettle on to heat. “Did you feel the same way?”
“If we’re continuing on our path of honesty, yes, I did. You’re very easy to be with, Kaitlyn.” I can hear the soles of his shoes on the tile behind me. I can feel the heat of his body. When I turn around, he’s leaning against the counter next to me. “Why did your relationship with Martin end?”
I swallow the lump that’s instantly formed in my throat. “We’re better off as friends.”
“Is that what you prefer? Just friends?” he whispers in a voice that’s deep and laced with sex.
“I don’t know. Depends on the definition.”
“Are there multiple definitions for friends?”
I lick my lips and release a steady, but shaky breath. “Yes.”
Seemingly ignoring my answer, he gently touches the back of my neck. “You have a beauty mark back here. It’s lovely.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Be all… you… when we’re talking about something important. We both know this is make believe, right? How do we stop our bodies from thinking otherwise?”
“We’re adults, correct?”
“Adults who have made very clear choices. We even went so far as to write them down.”
His arm slides around my waist, pulling me into his body. “Contracts are always open for negotiation.” Griffin places a couple of extremely soft kisses on the apple of my cheek. “I would very much like to kiss you again. You know…practice makes perfect and all that.”
I don’t give him the yes I know he wants. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t think I could have formed even that simple of a word. My fingers thread through the hair at the base of his neck and I pull him to my lips. I could get drunk off the taste of him.
It’s soft, at first. You could even say it’s demure compared to our first kiss on the sidewalk less than an hour ago, but it doesn’t stay that way for very long.
I turn so we are face-to-face, never breaking contact, and he lays his large, strong hand on the small of my back and pulls me closer until I’m flush against him.
I part my lips, inviting him in deeper. His tongue dances with mine in such a way that one would think we’ve done this together every day for our entire lives.
He shifts his body until one of his knees slips between my thighs, effectively pinning me to the counter with his large frame. I can’t stop the small moan from escaping my throat at the pressure being placed just so.
This is moving so fast, and I can feel myself pressing on the accelerator. I’ve never felt so drunk on another human before. It’s dangerous in more ways than one.
So, I do the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time by placing my hands on his chest and giving him a little push.
“Wait, wait,” I say, panting. “We can’t.”
He pushes a stray hair from my face before cupping my jaw in his hand and simply stares at me for a beat before nodding. “You’re right, we shouldn’t.” He drops his forehead to mine. “You taste so good though.”
I smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He kisses the tip of my nose before backing up, putting a few feet between us. I’m suddenly aware of how warm he was making me. There’s a chill in the air with the loss of our connection.
“I should go,” he says, motioning toward the door, just as the tea kettle begins to whistle.
“Can I make you a cup of tea to go? It’s the least I can do. Don’t want to let that perfectly boiled New York City tap water go wasted.”
“Now, that would be a travesty. I’d love that, thank you.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I move throughout the kitchen. It only takes a few minutes, then I’m handing him a pink, sparkly insulated to-go cup I bought from a local coffee shop a few months ago. “All set.”
“This is a terrible substitute, but I thank you.” Griffin clears his throat softly. “I’ll pick you up around five thirty tomorrow. I can give you the briefing on what to expect then. Have something you’d like to wear?”
“Shit. No, actually, I don’t. Not unless you count a decade’s old prom dress or a short velvet thing I wore to the office Christmas party last year.”
“As much as I’d like to see this short velvet thing, maybe you’d like to go shopping?”
“Now you’re buying me clothes? Griffin, I don’t know.”
“Don’t look at it like that. Think of it as a gift. You’re doing me the favor, remember?”
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll accept it, but I won’t like it.”
“Wonderful. I’ll like it enough for the both of us, I’m sure.”