The Truth About Fairy Tales (6 page)

I was dressed and almost to the bedroom door when he woke up.

             
“Where are you going?” he asked me in a sleepy seductive voice that had me mesmerized amazed he’d even remembered my name. But then again, maybe that was because I was destined to be Miss Saturday night in his book from here on out. That thought as well as all of Ben’s pain brought the return of my anger.

             
“I’m going home. Go back to sleep.” I needed to escape to lick my wounds. Wanted to go back to my apartment and to my little old man dog, but I wasn’t at all sure I wouldn’t keep right on running all the way back to Santa Anna. I was more ashamed of myself at this moment than I’d ever been of my mother.

             
“Maggie, come back to bed, it’s still early. I’ll take you home later.”

             
I felt just sick enough to waver for a second. My fever had returned in full force making the room around me swim. I knew that if I didn’t get out of his bedroom soon I would be right back there with him repeating those same mistakes that had gotten me into so much trouble already. I didn’t even bother to answer. I just walked out the door and ignored the sound of my name coming from his lips asking me not to leave.

             
When I got back to the apartment, as much as I wanted to just crawl under the covers and sleep for hours, I couldn’t. Poor old Sidney who I’d left all alone the night before needed his walk.

             
Once we were back inside, I gave my poor pooch some food and got undressed. I felt miserable and I wasn’t so sure it wasn’t mostly due to the night I’d just spent in the devil’s camp. I was too exhausted to even dress for bed. I stepped out of my clothes and climbed under covers just as my phone began to ring.

             
I thought about all the possibilities of who might be on the other end of that phone, but I was mostly afraid that it would be my dear sweet grandmother calling to remind me to attend church today. I couldn’t face her now. She’d know. The second she heard my voice, she would be able to tell I’d been up to no good. I didn’t want her to believe I’d taken my mother’s path.

             
When the answering machine picked up and Jackson’s voice came into my apartment reminding me of everything I’d done wrong since meeting him, I couldn’t even bring myself to listen. I put my pillow over my head and wished him away.

I was almost successful until a few hours later when he knocked on my door. I’d just fallen into a heavy sleep after trying to shut him out of my thoughts when the insistent buzzing woke me. I waited and hoped whoever was there would just go away. They didn’t. Someone apparently was leaning against the doorbell.

              I grabbed my robe, not concerned that I looked like hell. “What?” I yanked the door open wide then stopped. Whatever else I might have considered saying died away when I saw him standing before me...my mistake.

             
“What do you want?” I asked mainly to cover my uncertainty. He was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be getting ready for Miss Sunday night. Seeing Jackson standing before me looking nothing at all like the ruthless, arrogant man I believed him to be, knocked the breath right out of me and left me speechless.

             
He held out a bag and a container that smelled wonderful and felt blissfully warm.

             
“In the bag is the medicine I gave you last night. Take it, Maggie. It will help you. And this is soup—chicken soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot. And then go back to bed.” With that, he leaned in and kissed my cheek then turned and walked away without another word. Missing the fact that I’d started to cry again. It was just the sickness, I told myself. After all, there was no way this man could make me cry. Whatever reasons had brought him here, I’m sure it was mostly out of guilt. Jackson Riley wasn’t capable of feeling anything human.

By the time my shift at
Rosario’s began, I had to admit I was feeling much better. I don’t know if it was because of the medicine, the chicken soup, or the fact that I’d spent the rest of the day asleep in bed, but I was starting to feel a little more like myself.

             
Sunday nights at Rosario’s were usually one of the busiest around. Most folks don’t want to bother with cooking when the new workweek is about to begin. Tonight, the place was packed. It didn’t show any signs of letting up until almost closing time.

             
I was just finishing up with what I’d hoped was to be my last customers for the evening when I noticed that the party of four I’d been serving, mom, dad and two kids weren’t really listening to my polite run down of the available deserts. Their eyes focused on something just behind me.

             
When I turned to see what was so interesting I almost ran smack into Jackson. He’d come to a halt about two feet behind me his hands reaching up to steady me in a way that felt a little too familiar – with me standing here in this family restaurant and a family of four next to me. I know I had to be blushing, all the way down to my toes. The way he grinned at me told me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

             
“What are you doing here?” I asked only to realize that probably didn’t sound all that sweet, the image I was trying to project to these nice folks.

             
Jackson grinned again apparently finding me extremely amusing, while being fully aware I wanted him gone. “Do you really want to do this here?” When I simply glared at him in way of an answer, he added, “Okay, I'm here because I figured it was time you and I went out on a real date since we’ve sort of skipped over that part and moved onto other, more interesting things.”

             
I glanced back at the nice family seated beside me. Dear old mom and dad had definitely caught Jackson’s drift.              

“I can’t have visitors here. I’m trying to work
.”

             
“Then what time do you get off?”

             
While my mind considered which lie to tell him, he said, “The owner, Edward Rosario is a very good friend of mine. I just wanted you to know that before you answered.”

             
Of course he’d known I was about to tell him the whopper of all lies. “I’ll finish up in about ten minutes.”

             
“Good, then I’ll meet you at Starrias in thirty minutes.”

             
I was only too happy to agree to dinner. Not that I intended to meet him there. I just wanted to get rid of him so that I could make my escape.

             
“Sure, fine, whatever...I’ll see you there.” His gaze narrowed at my eagerness and I smiled, hoping to make him forget whatever doubts he had. His disturbing gaze slid over me slowly. After another lazy minute slipped by, Jackson turned and walked away from me without another word. I let go of the breath I’d been holding. As far as I was concerned, I’d never have to see him again.

             
Once the nice family left, I gathered my things and was out the back door and half way across the parking lot before I noticed that parked next to my tiny car and putting it very much to shame was Jackson’s far more expensive vehicle.

             
“Shit.” I murmured under my breath. With no other means of escape, I walked over to where he stood next to the passenger door.

             
“Nice try. Did you really take me for an idiot?” I stopped in front of him, but I didn’t dare answer.

             
“Get in, little bit.” I looked around for some way to get out of this awkward moment, while he held open the door for me. I was caught. Good and caught.

             
I started to climb inside when he took me in his arms and kissed me. I forgot all about never wanting to see him again. I was almost willing to become his Miss Sunday Night, if that’s what he wanted.

             
Jackson closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. I remembered I still wore those cheap little plastic hair barrettes that held my bangs in place and made me look about ten. I quickly removed them before he got in hoping he hadn’t seen them in the first place.

             
The silence in the car’s interior became palpable. Jackson watched e in the darkness. There was no way I was going to look at him. Uh-uh...no way.

             
“Where are the barrettes?” Okay that had my gaze ricocheting to his. “I liked the barrettes.” He said almost to himself before he started the car.

             
Considering I was still dressed in my best work uniform consisting of a starched white shirt and an ugly plain black skirt, I figured okay we’d end up at some fast food joint where no one knew him. I couldn't begin to hide my surprise when he stopped the car out front of Starrias and the valet came to take it away.              

             
“I can’t go in there,” I told him while reaching the panic stage. I mean it wasn’t as if I didn’t want to go to Starrias. I’d only heard about the place from a few people who’d actually been there, but I couldn’t go in there dressed like one of the wait staff.

             
Jackson, well he simply smiled at me in what had all the beginnings of being indulgent then he got out of the car.

             
He handed the keys to the valet and took my hand. The same one that still held those black barrettes in them. Slowly he unfolded my fingers, saw what lay inside, and smiled before taking my little barrettes and putting them in his pocket.

             
“You look fine. Better than fine, in fact, but I’m afraid if I go into details of just how fine you really look, you’re going to start blushing again and I’m going to start thinking things that I shouldn’t and we’re not going to have dinner at all. So let’s just leave it at fine for now.”

             
Okay, if his intention was to leave me speechless he’d just accomplished it. I didn’t know how to respond. 

Nothing about the way
Jackson was behaving fit into my image of him from all the things Ben had told me about his uncle. This man beside me now almost seemed, well, human.

             
The maître d apparently was an ‘old friend’ as well because he didn’t even bother with looking at his nice little reservation book, in spite of the fact that the place was still busy and there was a crowd waiting to get in.

             
“Right this way, Mr. Riley,” The maître d started toward the back of the restaurant to an area closest to a wall of windows that reflected the downtown area. It was then that I almost stopped dead in my tracks, which forced Jackson to stop as well. He looked down at me with questions I didn’t want to answer clear in his eyes.

             
Now why all of the sudden when I’d had sex with this man more times than either of us could ever actually remember was I so concerned about all the other women he’d brought to this place? What did it matter to me, Miss Saturday Night who would be following me up on Monday?

             
Of all the places in the world, why did I suddenly remember I had a conscience here in the middle of the restaurant? The answer was simple. This wasn’t Saturday night. It was Sunday and I didn’t know what to expect next. He’d thrown me for a loop. Nothing up to this moment in my life had equipped me to understand what a man like this really wanted from me besides, well, the obvious.

             
The friendly maître d seated us at a cozy table away from the crowd and just close enough to the small band that played those old-fashioned sappy love songs. But not too close so that conversation was strained to my regret. I really didn’t want to try to make polite conversation.

             
After the hovering waiter took our orders then left us alone, we sat in that uncomfortably awkward silence of two people that didn’t know what they should be saying to one another. What kind of relationship was this anyway? I’d seen him naked more times, than I’d seen him dressed, but the truth was we didn’t have a thing in common.

             
As my fingers played nervously with my napkin, I found myself wondering had we ever really even talked? I couldn’t remember anything even close to a conversation before. Mostly angry words, accusations and…well, best not to go there.

             
“Relax…” The object of my frustration told me in that soft seductive voice he’d been using on me since we’d met. 

             
I tried to think of something to say to him, something that we might actually have in common with each other to spark something resembling a conversation and end this terrible awkward silence. I couldn’t look at him because I knew if I actually lifted my eyes and met his I would find him watching me.             

“Have you talked to Ben yet?” Okay, so I probably should have tried a little harder to find a safer topic for conversation.
Jackson’s frustrated sigh confirmed this.

             
“Look, Maggie, let’s set some ground rules, okay.” I was still trying to figure out what he saw in me beyond my Miss Saturday Night status when he reached across the table and took my restless hands in his, startling me so much that I forgot I wasn’t looking at him.