Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
“What are you going to wear?” Angelica asked. She was lying across my bed, her chin propped up by her fists. She was enjoying my indecision far too much.
“I can’t decide. Should I go for the sophisticated pinstripe suit that fits like a dream, or the sweater dress with the push up bra?”
“What shoes with what?”
I rooted around until I found the over the knee leather high heeled boots in my closet and turned around to show my friend. As soon as I held them up, Angelica yelled out.
“Whatever outfit goes with those boots is the winner.”
“That was easy,” I laughed.
“That’s because it’s April and there’s no ice on the ground. But if there was ice on the ground, it’d be a different story.”
“Pfft. Girl, you are such a California baby. If you don’t think I can walk in high heels with a little ice and rock salt on the ground, you are higher than a kite. Of course I can.”
I pushed through the hangers until I found the cream-colored cable knit dress that clung to my hips and waist, and with the help of a wonder-bra, would soon cling to voluptuous cleavage. I went to the bathroom to get dressed.
When I came back out into the bedroom, Angelica rolled over on the bed laughing.
“It’s not funny!”
“It is too. You look like you have two balloons underneath that dress. Why in the hell do you think you need a push-up bra?”
“Because I’ve always needed a push-up bra.” I looked at myself sideways in the full length mirror on my closet door. I did look kind of ridiculous.
“I’ve been wearing slouchy shirts and blouses since I had Olivia, mostly because I was pumping milk for her, that I didn’t want to draw attention to my big boobs. But I stopped doing that last month. I figured everything would go back to normal.”
“Obviously it hasn’t. Didn’t you notice?”
“I kind of noticed that my bras had been feeling tight, but I figured I just wasn’t used to going back to my old normal sized-B bras, and I was all complain-y. Like I was about everything.”
“Sorry, girly, you are definitely not a B cup anymore. I’d say you’re a solid C. A perky C at that. No push-up bra for you. Unless you want to poke out Adam’s eye.”
“Funny, Angelica. Very funny.”
“Hey, I know a lot of women who would pay good money for your boobs, quit your bitching.”
“I’m not bitching.” I looked in the mirror again.
“Now take off the push-up bra, and wear a normal demi-cup, and you’re covered, so-to-speak.”
“I don’t have a C cup to wear.”
“Wear a B, and it will be a natural push-up, then we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
“Don’t you have to get to your house so you can be there when Adam drops off James?”
Angelica looked down at her iWatch. “Oh damn.” She shot off the bed, grabbed me in a hug, ogled my boobs, and ran out of my bedroom. “Lock up behind me,” she yelled right before I heard my front door slam shut.
I looked at my watch. I still had a half hour to get ready, because God knew Adam would be right on time.
He said we were going to Benedetto’s in Gatlinburg, which meant I was going to get a great meal, but slow.
I needed to eat a little something so that I didn’t chow down the entire breadbasket before the meal arrived.
I changed into the correct bra, and shimmied into the sweater dress again, then headed to the kitchen to grab something. Maybe something nutritious for a change. I found some string cheese that would keep me going, and munched down as I really thought about this stupid date.
It still pissed me off that I cared this much.
Pissed me off and excited the hell out of me.
I hated that I’d made that promise to stop lying to myself all those years ago. It was so much better living with my head in the sand. Instead, here I was, realizing that Adam might be ‘the one.’ But what the fuck was up with that?
“The one? Really? I’m going to be the cool spinster aunt. The one who takes all her nieces to get tattoos and inappropriate piercings. The one, my ass.”
I took another bite of cheese.
“It’s just a date. You haven’t even seen him naked. He’s probably bad in bed.”
I flashed back to his gentle hands and soothing touch two months ago. No such luck; he was going to be good in bed.
He could be too gentle. Too much of a namby pamby?
I snorted and finished my cheese then walked down the hall to my bathroom so I could apply my make-up. With the sweater dress, smoky eye was the way to go.
I was so screwed.
Men didn’t wear suits enough, as far as I was concerned, and now that I’d seen Adam in one, I decided he should never wear anything else but suits.
He looked good enough to eat. I just wished that etiquette hadn’t forced me to walk in front of him through the restaurant, I really wanted to see him from the back.
“I brought over James’ Nintendo Switch so he and Angelica could play while she watched him.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that sure wasn’t necessary.”
Adam laughed, too. “You’re right about that. When she took us inside, she showed off her new gaming area. That television of hers is huge.”
“She rarely does things in half measures.”
“I’m catching on. James is never going to want to leave.”
We’d already put our orders in, but as I’d suspected, it was taking a little bit of time for our meals to arrive. Adam nudged the breadbasket closer, and the butter dish. He kept getting better and better.
“I checked out your website. You have to be doing a booming business.”
“We do all right.”
“You’re being modest.”
I set down what was left of my roll. “I checked out your website. Pretty impressive, Beckett. I’d say we’re both doing all right for ourselves.”
He gave me a slow smile. “Probably. But I don’t have employees with green hair.”
I laughed. “There is Ernie. He’s one of a kind.
He’s been working for me from the start.
He kicked my ass to go all-in on the online business.
He’s not from Jasper Creek, he’s from Seattle.
He and his former girlfriend were doing vintage clothing, specifically a vintage concert T-shirt store, and they moved most of their product online.
According to him, she sold out to work for , and he had distant family in Knoxville, which is how he ended up working with me. ”
“What was your motivation to start the store?”
“I was going to go more in the direction of punk and motorcycle girl, everything that Jasper Creek isn’t.
Then I realized that some of our residents needed a way to make some money, and they had beautiful handmade products that would really sell, but not next to Punk/Motorcycle girl clothing and accessories. ”
“I suppose not.”
“Hey, what can I say, I was starting my shop right out of college.”
“What was your degree in?”
“I majored in sociology and have a minor in English with a focus on 19th Century American Poetry.”
“Who’s your favorite American poet?”
“I vacillate between two. People always think Emily Dickinson when I say 19th Century American poetry, but they’re wrong. My choices are Edgar Allan Poe and Walt Whitman. Do you like poetry?”
“I don’t think you could be an architect and not appreciate poetry.
The way a structure is put together, every line should be properly considered so it is pleasing to the senses and builds on the next piece.
There is an artistry and feeling that goes into the good builds.
I don’t care if you’re creating a fifty-thousand-dollar clinic in Africa, or a skyscraper in Manhattan, every single one should be made with just as much care and attention as the other.
It’s why it’s called a building. It’s the same way with a good poem, there is the same feeling and emotion. ”
“Well, okay,” I whispered. “I see what you mean.”
“And before you ask, my favorite poet is Maya Angelou.”
“Ahhh, good choice.”
I was so sleeping with this man tonight.
The server set down our dishes.
“You look happy with your choice,” Adam said.
“Oh, I am. I really am.”