The Other F-Word (10 page)

“I should go over and thank him personally. Do you mind?” I asked Rod. Part of me was grateful for a reason to take a break from the date. I was trying hard. Honest I was, but it was not going well.

“Oh no, that’s fine. Tell him thank you for me too.”

I watched in horror as he lifted the plate, scraping half the mushrooms over his steak.

“I love mushrooms with steak, even if they don’t have sausage.”

“Good. I’ll let him know you appreciate it,” I said, giving him an exaggerated, cheerful nod.

“Hiya, Jessie,” Damien said, tipping his beer to me when I strolled over to him. “You look nice. Are you out with your grandpa tonight?”

“Very funny, I’m on a date. I came to thank you for the appetiser.”

“I take it you’re into older guys and that’s why you won’t go out with me. I get it now.”

“I believe he and I are close in age.”

“I don’t believe it.” His smile tightened, like he was trying hard to hold it in place as his fingers constricted around the neck of the beer bottle. The green of his eyes glowed with vibrant intensity. “Why in the hell would he bring you to a place like this? Their logo is a cow eating a pig who is simultaneously eating a chicken. How ironic and…traumatic for you.”

I tried not to smile, but it was impossible because the man brought up a good point. “You seem to like it here.”

“I do. It’s a great place for a Saturday beer with my brother. It’s not the kind of place I’d bring you to.”

“It’s funny how I keep running into you. Where is this mysterious brother you speak of?”

“Speak of the devil,” he said, when an almost carbon copy of him approached us.

“And he shall appear,” the carbon copy replied.

“Derek, meet Emmie. She was just doubting your existence.”

It was strange hearing him use my real name. I’d got used to Jessie. I actually liked it—it bonded us in a way that was intimate without being dangerous.

“I wasn’t doubting…just questioning.”

“I know it’s hard to believe we come from the same stock,” Derek said, shaking my hand. It wasn’t difficult to believe at all.

“Derek and Damien, clever,” I said, gesturing between them.

“Greek-Italian mother, German father. This is what you get,” Damien explained.

“So what are you two boys doing tonight? Just pillaging and carousing?”

They both chuckled. “We’re celebrating, actually.” Damien signalled to the bartender. “What are you having?”

“I have to get back,” I said, pointing to my table where Rod was still busy with his steak.

“She’s on a date,” Damien explained to Derek, who leaned against the bar.

“With that guy? He looks old enough to be your dad,” Derek said.

“I said grandpa.”

“You guys are a real riot. You should go on a stand-up tour.”

“Better than that other second job you had, huh, Damien?” Derek elbowed his brother.

Damien gave him a murderous look in return.

I stifled my giggle. Being an only child, I envied the interesting balance of rivalry, irritation and love between siblings.

Damien turned back to me, a wicked smile gracing his lips. “Just one toast…for Derek. He got accepted to UCLA medical school today. We’ll be calling him Dr Wolfe soon.”

“Congratulations, that’s definitely reason to celebrate.”

“Then celebrate with us. Do a shot.” Derek said.

There was no shortage of charm in the Wolfe family.

“Okay, just one. I’ll have whatever you guys are having.”

“Three shots of Ouzo, please,” Damien said to the bartender.

“You’re going for the heavy stuff,” I said.

Damien cocked his eyebrow. “Too potent for you? Would you rather have something frozen with a fruit buffet sticking out of it?” The question held a challenge.

I narrowed my eyes. “No, bring on the shot. I’m good for it,” I said, not really sure if I was. I turned to Derek because Damien’s menacing smile was doing naughty things to me. “That’s an amazing accomplishment.”

“Couldn’t have done it without this guy,” Derek replied, smacking Damien’s back.

“He’s very supportive, I take it.”

“Literally, he pays the bills.”

Damien paid his brother’s tuition? That was so sweet. Every time I tried to distance myself, he did something to reel me in.

“That’s the easy part,” Damien added, looking embarrassed as he handed me my shot. “To my little brother, the future Dr Wolfe,” he said, raising his glass.

“To family,” Derek said, clinking Damien’s glass. “And new friends,” he toasted me.

“To moving forward and bright futures,” I toasted back. The liquid went down the hatch, sweet like liquorish and hot as white lightning. Damien immediately handed me his water glass. I swallowed down the cool liquid almost as fast as the shot.

“Good stuff, eh?” Damien said.

“Sure is.” I swallowed away the urge to choke. “Are you twins?” I asked, once I’d regained my composure.

“No, we get that a lot, but I’m the younger, more humble, handsome one,” Derek said, pointing to himself. Then he jabbed his thumb towards Damien. “He’s the older, cocky, grumpy one.”

“It’s ironic how you assign the adjectives humble and handsome in the same sentence to describe yourself.”

He laughed. “I like that you called me out on that. I like her, Damien.”

“Me too, now shut up.”

This time, I did giggle at Damien’s warning glance to his brother.

“Is this your first stop for the night?”

Derek smiled. “Yeah, we’re taking the limo and going bar hopping. We’re gonna meet up with some friends. You should come.”

“I don’t think my date would approve.” In some ways, I was relieved to have an excuse, and disappointed too. “You guys have fun though.” I wondered if they’d go to a club. Would Damien dance with another girl? The thought irked me. I grinned at Derek. “It was nice meeting you, Derek. Good luck with school, and congratulations again.”

I walked back towards my table, but a few steps into the route, Damien clasped my arm and pulled me into a dim corner. “Is his name really Rod?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“I can tell you’re already bored and it’s obvious this guy has no clue when it comes to you.”

I crossed my arms, looking down at my feet. “That’s very judgmental of you.”

He leaned in close to me. The combined smells of fresh beer, anise-flavoured liquor and his own intoxicating scent washed over me, eliciting a visible, embarrassing shiver.

“I’m only saying what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinking it.”
Yes, I was.

“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours then?”

“Do you like to read?” I looked up at him.

He smirked. “Yes, why do you think I’m hosting a charity function for a library?”

“What book is on your nightstand right now?”

“
The Post-American World
by Fareed Zakaria.”

“What was the last book you read for pleasure?”

“I am reading it for pleasure. I’m also partial to John Grisham, Michael Crichton and Dan Brown novels. Why are you asking me this?”

“Just curious. Do you like The Beatles?”

He chuckled. “Who doesn’t? They just played
Hey Jude
. Did you hear it?”

“Yes.”

He gripped my arm then. His hold wasn’t tight, but his fingers slowly kneaded into my flesh, causing a heart-racing, electric shock. “Jessie, listen to me, I don’t like the way this guy is looking at you. I don’t approve.”

My laugh sounded nervous and slightly hysterical. “You’re not my father.”
Like my vagina needs his permission. Wait, what? Why am I thinking of my vagina?

He arched his brow. “First I’m your younger brother and now you’re accusing me of trying to act like your father. Don’t you realise I have no interest in any of those titles?”

I gulped. “I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, he’s harmless.”

“It’s always the harmless looking ones you have to watch out for.”

“Are you telling me you’re perfectly safe?”

A sly, slow smile crept over his lips. “I wouldn’t say I’m safe and I’m far from perfect, but I’m a good guy, Jessie. I’m not saying he’s necessarily a bad guy—”

“But what?”

“He’s not good enough for you.”

I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall.
How drunk is he?
Did he really mean those words?

“Goodbye, Damien. Be safe.” I shrugged his arm off me.

“See you on Monday,” he said.

“Monday?”

“For our meeting. Of course, if you need a ride home tonight or anything else, you let me know.”

I winced, wondering how I’d be able to keep up these pretences when he kept saying things like that. Why was he so interested in me? Sure, I was my own best fan and loved myself, but he could have any girl he wanted. I had no intention of letting him under my skin. Although, I wouldn’t mind imagining that. He looked like he was about to say something else, but I marched back to the table. I’d been gone a long time, and poor Rod probably thought I’d deserted him.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” I said, sliding into my seat. I noticed there were only three mushrooms left for me. Damn…he’d eaten almost all of them.

“I thought maybe you’d run off with him,” Rod said, followed by a boisterous laugh. Was he laughing because the thought was ridiculous? Probably.

I had to stop thinking about Damien Wolfe and start thinking about Rod…Rod…dear God I didn’t know his last name. Whatever it was, I needed to be better company.

“Do you come to this place often?” I scolded myself mentally, trying to banish the image of Damien Wolfe’s devilish eyes, sly smile and amazing body.

“Yes, I love it. I have to say, I’m surprised you’re a vegan. I mean, what do you people eat?”

That was question
numero uno
of most annoying questions for vegans.

“There are plenty of options out there. You’d be surprised.”

“How do you get your protein?”

There was question
dos
.

“Beans, fruits, leafy greens. There’s a ton of perfect proteins if you just do your research.” I could recommend a book to him, but he didn’t read.

“Why do you do it?”

Okay, this one wasn’t that annoying. After all, Damien had asked the same thing, but the way Rod narrowed his eyes didn’t exactly make me feel comfortable expounding on my decision.

“I just prefer it. I’ve been a vegetarian or vegan most of my life. It’s a choice I made a long time ago. Don’t worry though, I’m not looking to convert others. We’re not a cult and I don’t get bonus points or anything for that.” There, maybe he’d get my hint and move on.

“It’s unhealthy.”

No such luck.
“Do I look unhealthy to you?”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

This was interesting coming from a man with a potbelly.

“People need meat. It’s proven fact,” he continued, gesturing to me with his fork.

Did he just go there?
“Proven by whom?”

“Science. You’ve heard of survival of the fittest, right?”

“Yes, do you know who said that?”

“Charles Darwin,” he said with pride, like he was teaching me something.

“Right, although it’s debatable if he was himself a vegetarian. He also said, and I quote, ‘Man has neither the sharp pointed teeth or claws to slaughter his prey. On the contrary his hands are made to pick fruits, berries and vegetables and teeth appropriate to chew them’.”

“How do you know that?”

“I read it, but don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll make a movie out of it someday.” I squeezed my eyes closed. Did I just say that aloud to my son-in-law’s boss? I took a deep breath, trying to swallow down my pride. I almost choked on it. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

He was a quiet for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on what looked to be gristle. “I forgive you.”

I exhaled a sharp breath, hoping I could salvage this evening.

“I like a lady that knows how to apologise when she’s in the wrong. That’s a virtue my ex-wife never had.”

Apparently, my hopes were too high. “You were talking about a contract she broke before?”

“You know how it is. You get married and she looks one way and then she lets herself go.”

“Lets herself go?”

“She just didn’t care anymore. Not like you, but then again that may be because she was married and didn’t have to try like you do.”

“I dress for myself because it makes me feel good, not anyone else. As for your ex-wife, have you considered that she had a child and that can change your body?”

“Either way, she wasn’t the same woman I married, and she should have expected that would upset me.”

“You aren’t the same man she married either, right? At least not physically.”

“Look, I paid the bills. She sat on her ass and ate bon bons. There’s a difference.”

My hands clenched so hard, my knuckles cracked. “Raising a child is hard work. I should know. Being a stay-at-home mom is admirable.”

“I never said she didn’t work. She was a teacher, but that’s not exactly work. I mean she got off at three and had all this vacation time.”

I was going to take the high road. I was going to reason with him. I used my most calm voice, the one I’d used with my children when they were little, and I was trying to teach them a difficult concept. The one I used at work when I was training someone. It was my library voice. My soft, feminine voice—sympathetic and expressive at the same time. “Rod, I feel like we’re bashing your ex-wife here, and I don’t know the woman, but obviously she had many positive traits if you married her in the first place. I know teaching is one of the most difficult professions in the world, and I can imagine it was stressful for her.” That and the fact she had an unsupportive husband.

“Well, you don’t have to know her to know she was a total bitch that ruined my life.”

My phone rang just then. It was rude to answer it, but at this point, I couldn’t talk to him anymore. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Hello?”

Dillon’s voice eased my rage to a dull roar. “Don’t say anything, just listen. I couldn’t leave you so I went across the street to the coffee shop. This is called the rescue phone call and it’s part of the new dating ritual. They didn’t have cell phones back when you dated, but the technology makes it possible to rescue you.”