Chapter 7
Nicholas
Let’s go for Jerk Chicken… if you can manage spicy food :)
I had spent twenty minutes trying to figure out if I should have used an emoji. One minute later, my phone buzzes.
Haha… let’s do it, I’m up for the challenge :)
Yes! … she responded with an emoji. Twenty minutes well spent.
I’ll meet you in the lobby at 7:00pm
Great, see you then.
At 7:00pm, I walk into the lobby and see her seated, legs crossed, reading a local magazine that has a picture of a well-known beach on its cover.
“Goodnight, I’m here to pick up a Lisa Davis.”
She is wearing a black off-the-shoulder top, which taunts me. Can she just pull it down a little more? I wonder…
Looking up, she stands to greet me, smiling, “Hi, Nick.” That smile. Wow.
Her skinny, navy-blue jeans showcase her perfect curves and wonderful ass. And her four-inch black strappy sandals place her at the right height for me.
“Hi, Lisa… let’s turn up the heat.”
We stroll off to the parking lot, having a fun, get-to-know-you conversation when my hand brushes against hers. It feels nice and I want to hold it. Baby steps, Nick.
When we are close enough to my car, I press the unlock button on the keyless remote.
“This is me,” I say, pointing to the Honda.
She walks over to the driver’s side of the vehicle and before realizing her mistake — that we drive on the left-hand side of the road — I shout, “Hey,” and toss her the key with an underarm motion just as she turns.
Laughing, she catches it, “I keep forgetting.” She throws the key back to me and goes over to the passenger side. While I’m holding the door for her to get in, I warn, “Lisa, don’t let it happen again.”
“Oh yeah, or what?”
She smiled. I smiled.
We both get in the car and continue our get-to-know-you conversation. She smells really nice.
We arrive at a rustic, authentic Jamaican restaurant and sit under a gazebo with a thatched roof.
The chairs, made from eucalyptus wood, are solid and uniquely designed with cylindrical blocks forming the seat.
The table, made from the same material as the chairs, is nicely crafted into the shape of the Jamaica map.
“This is exotic,” she gushes, sitting and admiring the greenery between the gazebos. Behind us are sheets of zinc covered with meat, uniformly stacked on top of pimento wood that traps the smoke to slowly cook the food.
Scanning the barcode and looking at the menu, “Um…What’s bammy?” she asks.
“It’s made from cassava… it’s kind of like Yuca… Have you ever had Yuca before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay — you know what… I’ll order a few dishes and sides so you can try a little of everything.”
“Thanks, that would be great.”
“Plus, a Red Stripe beer for me, and a glass of wine for you,” I add cheekily with a grin.
She smiled, I smiled.
I order: ⒈／⒋ jerk chicken, ⒈／⒋ pound jerk pork, two servings of fried bammy, two servings of festival, two servings of roast breadfruit… and two Red Stripe beers.
“Cheers.” We clink our bottles, take a sip of beer and then dive into the food.
“This is delicious, Nick,” she mouths, eating the pork and using her free hand to grab another festival.
“Tell me… When do you leave?” I ask.
“On Monday,” she replies while examining the breadfruit.
“Okay, nice… so what are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Well, I plan to have a nice, relaxing day by the pool. You know, so I can soak up the sun for one more day before I get back to the blizzard. The weather is amazing here.”
“Nice. Are you spontaneous?”
“I can be.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Try me.”
“Pick you up at 6:30 in the morning. We’re going on a coffee tour in the Blue Mountains.”
I know from her Instagram posts that she’s into outdoorsy stuff, like hiking. Plus, she had two cups of coffee at our conference. So, this was a safe bet.
She pauses and begins to study me. Then, biting her bottom lip and looking down at the bottle in her hand, she says, “Let’s do it.”
“Great, it’s going to be fun.”
She smiled, I smiled.
We both take a sip of our beer.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Walk with your swimsuit. I’m going to drive over the mountains to the most beautiful beach you’ve ever seen.”
One that also happens to be better than the one she was looking at in the magazine (of course, it’s really far).
Looking down at the label on the beer bottle while using her fingers to wipe away the frost, she lifts her head and with an indescribable look on her face says, “Sounds good.”
She smiled, I smiled.
On the way back to her hotel, I drive at 15mph in a 30mph zone, just to enjoy her company.