Chapter 12 Dominique
Dominique
I arrived early for our Thursday evening date.
Kobe had made the reservation for eight thirty, but I managed to talk the guy working the bar into giving me a table right away since the one we’d occupied during our first visit to the Apothecary was available.
I liked the quiet corner space, and it had an unobstructed view of where the jazz musicians were setting up for the evening performance.
Sipping a smoky Mortician, I listened to the saxophonist and bass player warm up.
The duo wore white trousers and jackets, trilbies, and shimmering gold shirts that sparkled under the flickering candles.
They hadn’t been given stage lighting, or any lighting at all for that matter.
The shadowed ambience of the speakeasy remained.
With my jumpy nerves, I appreciated the clandestine atmosphere of the lounge. No one could see the sweat peppering my forehead or the shake in my hands that wouldn’t go away. My heart had been in my throat for the past hour, and my stomach was in a knot.
I’d been anticipating the date all day, unable to concentrate on little else. The attraction I felt toward Kobe was impossible to ignore. Every time we were together, my skin buzzed. I wanted things that I hadn’t wanted in a long time.
Kobe arrived as the musicians introduced themselves and rolled into their first piece of the evening, a sultry rendition of “Black Coffee” by Peggy Lee.
“Hey. Am I late?” He slipped onto the rounded bench seat and checked the time on his phone with a frown.
“No. I’m disgustingly early. It’s a fault. I had things to do this afternoon, so I left work early.”
“Lucky you. I raced home from the office to change. Today’s been hell.
” Kobe craned to see the jazz players and grinned.
“Tommy and Diaz. They’re a great duo. I love this song.
” He closed his eyes and sang a few lyrics, swaying with the rhythm, then he stopped and laughed.
“Sorry. I won’t be that person. How are you? ”
Kobe had dressed similarly to the first time we’d gone out. Jeans, a tight, plain black tee, and a puffer jacket that he slipped out of and placed on the far side of the bench.
“I’m doing all right.”
Off kilter, I wanted to say. I can’t shake my nervous energy.
Who are you, Kobe Haven? What are you doing to me?
The man was multifaceted. Boyish at heart, but a stern and intelligent cop while on the clock.
A tad mischievous and rebellious, if his stories about Mexico were anything to go by, and now, hearing him croon to a jazz song originally recorded sometime in the fifties, I discovered the essence of an old soul.
Kobe eyed me with the adoring smile that made his dimples pop. His gaze slipped to my chest, and the grin faltered. “Are you going to take off your coat and stay awhile this time? We’ve had two dates where you’ve been ready to run out the door. Maybe it’s time to take a chance on me.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at myself. I hadn’t considered it, but he was right. Date number three. It was time I got comfortable and stopped acting like I was ready to bolt.
I shed my brown leather jacket and set it aside, leaving the space between us unoccupied. Kobe took me in, clamping down on his lower lip as his eyes sparkled with mischief in the candlelight. The inspection was intense and deliberate.
Instantly self-conscious, I tugged my sleeves up my forearms, aiming for casual but failing when it revealed a shimmering coating of sweat.
Great. Did he notice? I wore a knitted turtleneck and designer jeans, hoping it was date-worthy.
It had been years since I’d had to worry about stuff like this.
“Do I pass inspection?”
Kobe rubbed a hand over his mouth, hiding his grin and shaking his head. “You have no idea how good-looking you are, Doc.”
“I…” Cheeks flaming, I reached for my drink, needing a hit of liquid courage. Hopefully, my embarrassment remained hidden in the low-lit subterranean chamber. “You flatter me.”
“No. I’m honest to a fault. Often to my detriment. Is that a Mortician? I smell campfires, and that gives me an odd craving for hot dogs.”
I chuckled. “It is, and I’m afraid it’s going down far too quickly.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced around. “I don’t see a server. I’ll be back. I’m going to grab a drink from the bar and find menus. I’m starving. Can I get you another?” He indicated my nearly empty glass.
“Um… sure. Thank you.” I didn’t want to wind up inebriated, but my frazzled nerves demanded the buffer.
Kobe returned a short time later with two menus and no drinks.
“They’ll deliver them.” When he scooted onto the bench, he moved closer than before, a devilish smirk curving his lips.
“Am I allowed to chum up beside you this time? It’s our third date, you know.
At some point, I was hoping I’d get to touch you or something. ”
“Or something?” Pleasant heat trickled through my veins.
“Objections?”
“None at all.” And I was shocked to realize that the statement was true. I wanted Kobe to touch me.
The musicians moved into another piece I recognized. “Autumn Leaves” by Nat King Cole. Kobe moved his leg until it rested against mine under the table. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “And now?”
“Hm?”
“Still no objections?”
“No.”
“Excellent.” His smile was breathtaking and playful.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Jazz night was your idea first.”
“But you took the initiative.”
I wanted to again, but my body felt rusty and out of practice, so I grappled for the only topic of conversation we seemed to revisit comfortably. “How’s the case?”
Kobe’s features soured. He shook his head and leaned back, sitting upright as he watched the ensemble. “It’s… shitty. In one breath, it feels like we have a lot to go on, but in reality, we have nothing but hunches and theories. A couple of sketchy people, but no real leads.”
He met my gaze with an expression I’d never seen before dampening his good humor. “Can we talk about something else? I really want to leave work at work tonight and enjoy time with you.”
“Sure.” Except I didn’t know what direction to take, so I grabbed the menu and browsed. “What do you recommend?”
Kobe was only too happy to take me through his culinary experience of the Apothecary’s entrees.
The server arrived with our drinks, and we paused our perusal since the Mortician required its customary smoky unveiling.
Kobe had ordered something tropical, and it came in a tall glass with a beachy vibe, including an umbrella and a fruit skewer.
Before the woman departed, we ordered the steak frites.
When the waitress left, I eyed Kobe’s drink with a raised brow. “Everything here is an experience.”
He chuckled. “It is. This one is the Alchemy Aloha. It has both Captain Morgan’s white and spiced rum, Soho, banana liqueur…” Kobe squinted as though trying to recall. “Lime, pineapple juice, and a syrup of some kind. I can’t remember. It’s good. Try it. No coconut.”
He slid the glass toward me, and I used his straw to taste the concoction. The liquid hit the back of my throat, and I coughed, sputtered, and laughed as my eyes watered. “Wow. That’s… sweet and exceptionally strong.”
“And delicious.” Kobe angled the straw at his mouth and sucked, hollowing his cheeks before pulling back and licking his lips, leaving them glistening. “Yum.”
Momentarily distracted and struggling to align my thoughts, I almost missed Kobe’s question. “Does your daughter like going to the movies?”
Confused for half a beat, my mind and body fighting to get on the same page, I eventually nodded. “Um… Cosette loves the theater.” Like her mother, I didn’t say. “She can’t sit through a whole movie, but watching on the big screen helps. If there’s music and singing, she does better. Why?”
“I’m taking my little brother to the show this weekend, provided I don’t end up stuck at work.
” He rolled his eyes in a way that shed a half dozen years.
“There are some holiday kids’ movies playing for the Sunday matinee.
It should be age-appropriate for a toddler. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”
“The movies? On Sunday?”
“Yeah. émeric won’t mind. I know he’s older than Cosette, but it’ll be fun. They can gorge on popcorn, and we can take them to McDonald’s or something afterward.”
It seemed too soon to introduce Kobe to Cosette.
We might have managed three dates, but nothing romantic had transpired.
I wasn’t sure what was happening between us exactly, but I got the sense Kobe was treating me with kid gloves when it came to anything intimate.
If I wanted more, it would be up to me to take the first step.
“Can I ask her before I give you an answer?”
“Absolutely. No pressure. It’s an open invitation.”
Sunday was our weekly trip to Gatineau and the cemetery. Those were my hang-ups, not hers. I was sure Cosette wouldn’t care or notice if we canceled, but I needed a moment to decide how I felt about skipping a visit.
We listened to the jazz musicians and sipped our drinks. Kobe’s leg remained nestled against mine, and I liked the pressure, the heat, and the implication that came with the contact. My hesitation over Sunday lessened.
A movie. A day out. A normal life. It seemed out of my grasp, but was it?
Angelique and the promises I’d made lingered in the back of my mind, but Kobe’s bright smile and solid presence kept her ghost at bay.
Kobe made me yearn for something I’d forgotten existed. After a while, I found myself watching him instead of the performance, wondering at a future I’d given up on and if it was too late for me. Before long, I caught myself dreaming of impossible things.