Autumn and Summer (19 page)

“I have to be in the office on Monday at 9
a.m.”

“Good!”

Entering my bedroom, I grabbed my oversized handbag and my cellphone. Walking past her bedroom on my way downstairs, I stuck my head in the door let her know I was about to leave. Looking at her unmoving body lying across her bed, I glanced around the room. “Are you still going out with your date tonight?”

“Yeah. He pushed the time back so I have a little more time.” She sat up on her elbows and looked at me.
“We’re in the final stretch. Only three more dates—tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night.”

“Well, that’s f
our for me since I’ve never been on an actual date with Boris.”

“What’s that about? If you two would
ever nail down a date, you would be so perfect together.”

And that chance may never come,
I contemplated before pushing the thought out of my mind.

I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “He’s too busy for a date or a relationship. Work stuff. I’ll tell you more later. I need to head to
my third date at FX.”

Saying goodbye, I took a taxi downtown
. Arriving at the restaurant so early, I had missed the majority of the after-work crowd, yet I was too early for the Friday night crowd.  With only a very short line, I sauntered over to the doorman. He smiled in recognition although he didn’t greet me by name.

“
Hey, I remember you. What’s the reservation under?”

I laughed, “
Hi! I know I’ve been here a lot recently. Don’t judge me.”

“No judgment here, miss.”
He smiled and held up his hands.

Feeling the need to explain, I clarified, “I am going on a series of first dates and a few of them have picked FX as the date location.”

The big man with the adorable smile said, “It’s none of my business. As long as you are having a good time and enjoying the food, that’s all that matters.”

“I just didn’t want you to think…” I trailed off.

I didn’t want him to think what? I’m easy? I’m a whore? I date a whole lot of guys at the same time? Why does it matter what he thinks? Like he pointed out—it’s none of his business,
I realized silently.
Someone else’s opinion shouldn’t determine what I do or say as long as it makes me happy.

Taking my silence to mean I was
offended, the doorman continued. “You’ve been here what? Three, maybe four times. Last offseason, one of our very own professional basketball players would come here every night with a different girl. So don’t worry. I didn’t judge him and I’m certainly not judging you.”

“Okay good,” I responded uneasily.
“The reservation is under Shemar.”

“Oh wow. Go in and tell the hostess
that you are in one of the private dining rooms.”

What is the private dining room
?
I questioned silently. Drawing my eyebrows together in confusion, I hesitantly walked away.

“That’s him
. That’s the ball player who brought all of his dates here last summer,” the doorman hissed. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw a tall, well-dressed man with tattoos on both arms and the kind of raw magnetism that women generally flocked to.

I can definitely see what they see in him. Okay, now look away
,
I commanded myself. When I reached the hostess stand, I waited for the hostess to stop talking before asking her about my dinner reservations.

“
Hi! I’m meeting someone. The reservation is under Shemar. He—”

“Autumn?” I heard the questioning inflection in his voice and I figured it had to be Shemar.

Turning around, I found myself face to face with the basketball player the doorman had pointed out.

“Autumn,” he extended his hand and I took it, dumbfounded. “You know me as Shemar. But you can call me Malik.”

Recovering quickly, I smiled. “Hi, Malik, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I know it’s a little early for dinner, but there are less people here at this time. And with less people, we can talk with fewer interruptions.”

We had dinner in the private room, an exclusive section of FX that wasn’t really a room at all. Although it was a private area, someone must have seen us walk.  Once word spread that NBA superstar Malik Williams was in the building, people were trying to take pictures and get his autograph. Known more for his humanitarianism than his playing time, Malik was a superstar in the DC area.

The food was delicious and the conversation was light-
hearted and fun. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about all the different women he’d brought to FX.

Is that hypocritical of me? I’ve been here three times with three different men. I didn’
t sleep with any of them so there’s a reasonable chance that he didn’t sleep with all of the women he came here with. Regardless of the rumors surrounding the exploits of professional athletes, I shouldn’t make assumptions
, I deliberated with myself.
On the other hand, it’s very likely he had sex with most, if not all, of those women. And if that’s the case, he’s definitely not relationship material.

At the end of the date, Malik and I stood outside of FX making small talk while we waited for the next available taxi to arrive.
Security kept people a safe distance away while we talked.

“My penthouse has a beautiful view of the city if you’d like to come and check it out,” he offered, flashing a sexy smile.

“I’m just going to head home. But thank you for a lovely evening. It was so nice getting to know you,” I responded sweetly.

“Are you sure?” Malik looked surprised.

“I’m sure. I’m just going to go home.”

A taxi pulled up in front of us and he reached to grab the door handle. Before pulling it open, he looked back at me and asked,
“So you have no interest in seeing the penthouse or continuing the night elsewhere?”

“No, thank you.”
I smiled politely. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Okay, okay, I understand
,” he concluded, helping me into the taxi. “I like the chase.”

He closed the door and I waved
, thinking,
I’m sure you do.

G
iving the taxi driver my address, I pulled my phone out of my handbag. We hit some standstill traffic about a block away and I looked at the time. It was still relatively early, but all I wanted to do was curl up with a good book. Checking my messages, I saw one from Boris and one from Jordan.

Boris
: I have genuine feelings for you. We can talk more later, but I couldn’t let the night go on without me reiterating that to you.

Jordan Moretti:
I’m leaving the restaurant early tonight. If you aren’t doing anything, I’d love to paint with you. No pressure.

             
What have I gotten myself into? Jordan is everything I want in a man. He’s such a gentleman and he makes me all hot and bothered with his cute little smile and sexy body. And on top of that, he makes time for me. But he’s not divorced yet, so I can’t allow myself to get too close. Boris, on the other hand, isn’t looking for a relationship because he doesn’t have time. Sight unseen, Boris is everything I want in a man. Except for the lack of time he has to spare to actually see me. And let’s be honest, I’ve only known them for two weeks. Boris and I have a lot in common, but in person, we could have zero romantic chemistry. And Jordan and I have physical chemistry and so much fun together, but he is technically still married. I know I should just walk away from both of them, but I can’t deny how alive they both make me feel. But the facts still remain—Jordan is not yet divorced and Boris refuses to make time for me. Maybe I should just have a face-to-face conversation with them and then walk away,
I decided as I sent a text message back.

Autumn Jones: Does your painting offer still stand?

Jordan Moretti: Of course. Have you eaten? I could whip up something.

Autumn Jones: No
, thank you. I just ate. But I’ll be there in about 15 minutes.

             
When the taxi pulled up outside of Jordan’s downtown studio apartment, I hopped out and ran to his door. Knocking twice, I was welcomed with a huge smile and the smell of something delicious baking in the oven.

             
“Hi, Jordan!” I greeted him with a warm hug. “It smells amazing in here.”

             
“I just whipped something up. I know you already ate, but I was hoping you might have room for dessert.”

             
He closed the door behind me and led me into his art room. “Don’t freak out…” he started slowly. “But there’s plastic on the floor and walls to keep the paint from getting everywhere.”

Pushing him playfully, I
retorted, “Ha, ha. Jerk!”

Turning and wrapping his arms around me, Jordan pinned my arms to my sides. “Call me a jerk again,” he warned sexily, his voice dropping an octave.

“Or what?” I taunted him softly. Looking up into his sparkling green eyes, I bit my lip.  Halfheartedly, I tried to twist out of his hold. He held me tighter, bringing my body flush against his.

Bringing his face a fraction of an inch away from mine, he held my gaze. I could see him struggling not
to smile and my stomach fluttered. His lips grazed my cheek on the way to my ear. “Try it and see,” he whispered, tickling the sensitive flesh behind my ear with his breath.

My heart fluttered at the sensation.
I closed my eyes and relished the feeling. The smell of chocolate wafted in the air and mixed with the scent of Jordan’s soap. Between the smell and the heat of his skin, I was intoxicated. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

“Jerk,”
I mouthed to him with heavy-lidded eyes.

             
Barely letting the words escape my mouth, Jordan’s lips collided with mine with a restrained urgency. It was achingly sweet and gentle, yet at the same time, it was powerful.

             
Releasing my arms, Jordan slid his arms around my waist. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

The plastic on the wall crackled as he pressed me up against it. Pressing his body up against mine, I moaned
into the kiss. All the stress and confusion of the day melted away as Jordan’s lips enveloped mine. It felt as though the deeper the kiss, the easier it would be for me to pretend Boris didn’t exist.

             
Suddenly, the oven timer went off, startling us apart. My heart was racing both from the kiss and the timer’s unexpected alarm.

             
“The brownie bites,” Jordan explained, running his fingers through his hair.

With both hands in his hair, my eyes scanned his body. When my eyes darted to the front of his jeans, I could see that he was visibly aroused.
Smiling, I looked up at him and realized I was caught.

“I feel like I can’t control myself around you
,” I admitted.

H
e adjusted himself before grabbing my hand and kissing it. “Tell me about it.”

Following Jordan upstairs, we sat in the kitchen and let
the brownie bites and our bodies cool down.

“I promise I asked
you over here to paint,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“Well
, we just spent twenty minutes making out so I don’t know…” I cocked my head to the side and looked at the handsome man across the table from me.

Just thinking about kissing Jordan again causes my body to react. Maybe it can be more…
maybe the divorce will be official soon
, I considered as I watched him place two brownie bites on a cute little plate in front of me.

“Thank you. It looks so good!” I complimented honestly.

“You look so good,” Jordan responded automatically, picking up a third brownie bite and feeding it to me.

             
Opening my mouth, I took a bite with a smile. “Mmmm,” I moaned as I chewed. He popped the other half of the dessert in his mouth.

             
Pointing to the serving tray and the matching plates, I remarked, “This set is really nice.”

             
“Thank you,” he replied appreciatively. “I was going to get new ones, but I couldn’t find anything else like it.”

             
“Why would you get new ones? They look new.” I marveled at the beautiful set.

             
“Because, um…” Jordan hesitated, “my ex-wife purchased them.” He held eye contact even though he looked terribly uncomfortable.

             
The silence filled the kitchen as the mention of his marital status echoed in my ears.
Here’s my opening to ask about his future ex-wife and their marriage,
I thought.

             
“Did you two have a messy break-up or something?” I asked cautiously, unsure as to how to approach the situation.