Resistance is Futile

After a few moments into the movie, she switched off the television.  No use in wasting time watching a film that didn’t synchronize with the sound.  Besides, she was distracted. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jude Beresford.

When they first met, she couldn’t stand him.  He oozed a sensuality that was palpable. While it got her pulse going, it made her blood boil.  She couldn’t stand men who knew that they were gorgeous and flaunted it.  She was determined that she wasn’t going to fall for his charm or his looks.  She had a visceral dislike of men like him.

So, when her friend Brooke brought him and his brother over to meet her, she was considerably cool toward him but very friendly toward Crispin.  She ignored the fact that when they shook hands and his eyes met hers and his lips parted in a disarming smile, her heart skipped a beat.  She wanted to leave him in no doubt that she was not taken in by him.

When she and Brooke were alone, her friend asked her, “What’s up with you ?” she asked.  “You weren’t very friendly to Jude.  He’s a really nice man once you get to know him.”

“He seems conceited to me,” she said, casting a look of disdain in his direction.  “And it’s disgusting to see how women throw themselves at him.”

“You are wrong about him.”

“I don’t think so,” she insisted and her friend dropped it.  It was no use arguing about it.

She couldn’t avoid seeing him.  He was Brooke’s friend and she invited him to every event and social that she invited her to.  She sincerely hoped that Brooke wasn’t trying to set them up.  It was a waste of time. She was not interested in him.  Not wanting to be rude, she would engage in conversations with him, though she always made it clear to him that she was not attracted to him.   What that must do to his ego, she thought each time they were together, especially when she made a point of asking him about Crispin.  She noticed that it nettled him.

Crispin was not at all like his older brother.  He was fairly handsome but more reserved. There was no resemblance between the two men.  Jude was tall, slender with jet black hair and dark brown eyes while Crispin was blond with green eyes and shorter.   He was not as charming as Jude but she liked him.  She felt safe and completely relaxed with him unlike Jude who troubled her more than she cared to admit.

Last night after having the dinner which Brooke had spent all day preparing, Deana went out onto the terrace, gazing at the twinkling lights of the city in the distance. Crispin joined her.  “Deana, forgive me if I am being presumptuous,” he said, apologetically.  “but how long are you and Jude going to pretend that you don’t like each other?”

His question startled her and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.  Then, she said, “I can’t speak for him, but I’m not pretending.”

“I have seen the way you look at each other when you think no one is noticing.  It’s obvious to me that you are attracted to each other.  Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing games and admit how you feel to–?”

Just then, Jude came on to the terrace.  Deana’s heart lurched.  Their eyes met and then she rushed past him.  Shortly after that, she went home.

Stirring herself from her reverie, she got up from the sofa and went to the window.  It was early evening.  She wondered if she should go for a walk.  She could do with some fresh air. It would clear her mind.  She turned away and was about to head to the washroom to freshen up when the doorbell rang.

She went to the door and peered through the keyhole, her eyes widening when she saw Jude standing there.  At once, her heart started to pound.  She was tempted to keep him standing out there but she opened the door, her eyes wary as they met his.  “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said, unable to prevent her eyes from travelling over his tall frame.  He looked incredible in the dark grey suit and the white shirt and tie.  He must have just left his office or perhaps he was on his way out but for some reason, decided to stop by here first.  She told herself that she didn’t care.  She was going to wrap this up as quickly as possible and send him on his way.

“Perhaps you were expecting to see Crispin instead,” he said, his expression darkening.  The glint in his eyes startled her.

“Why would I be expecting Crispin?” she asked, stepping aside so that he could go in. After she closed the door, she turned to face him.  She could see the displeasure in his features.  Then it dawned on her.  “Do you think I am interested in Crispin?”

“Yes.”  The word was like a hiss.  “Every time we see each other you ask me about him.  I get the impression that you would prefer his company over mine.”

“I like Crispin, yes, but—”

“I saw you with him last night on the terrace.  As soon as I came you left.  I asked him what you and he talked about but he didn’t tell me.  He told me to speak to you.  Tell me the truth, Deana, is there something going on between Crispin and you?”

She shook her head.  “No,” she admitted.  “There’s nothing between us.”

He raked his fingers through his hair in agitation.  “Then, why were you always throwing him in my face, making me think that you preferred him to me.”

“I wanted to deflate your ego,” she told him.  “You seemed conceited to me and I wanted to show you that I was not like one of those women who were literally throwing themselves at you.”

“You’re wrong about me, Deana.  I’m not conceited.  And I’m not interested in any woman except you.”

Now her heart was racing and she seemed to have trouble breathing.  He had stepped closer to her, his eyes capturing hers and holding them prisoner.  “You’re wasting your time if you think you can seduce me,” she said, sounding a bit breathless.

“I’m not trying to seduce you.”

She was pressed against the door as the space between them got smaller.  “Then, what are you trying to do?”  She wondered if the feelings that were churning inside her showed in her face.  Did he detect the panic in her voice?

“I’m trying to show you how I feel,” he said softly.  “How I’ve felt since the first time we met.”  Before she could say another word, he lowered his head and kissed her.

Instead of pushing him away or clamping her lips together, she responded.  Her defenses were completely gone.  Resisting now was pointless.  Try as she did, she could no longer deny that in spite of all her best efforts, she was hooked.

 

The First Lunch Date

The moment he walked into the shop, she knew it was him.  She had caught a whiff of his cologne which mingled with the fragrance of the flowers.  She remembered the fragrance well and how it lingered long after he left the shop.  And here he was again, making her intensely aware of him.  She pretended to be busy, making notes of the pad.  He had been coming to her shop for a little over a year now.  He worked not far from there.  Sometimes, at lunch time, she passed Royal Courts of Justice, her eyes searching the grey, Victorian Gothic façade of the building, wondering behind which of the windows was his office.   As she walked by the front, she hoped to catch a glimpse of him coming out.

He greeted her and she responded, still not looking up.  She expected him to walk to the back of the shop to look at the flowers as he usually did.  This time, he paused at the counter where she was and she had to look up.  She found herself staring into those incredible grey eyes and her heart seemed to stop.  He was easily one of the most attractive men she had ever seen.  The grey suit he wore accentuated his eyes and his thick black hair was slightly tousled from the gentle summer breeze.

It was lunch time.  A bit early for him to be coming by.  He usually came in the afternoon.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “Not at the moment.”

“I was wondering if you would have lunch with me.”

She stared at him.  “Lunch with you?” she repeated, just to make sure she heard correctly.

He nodded.  “Yes.”  His expression told her that he was very serious.  “I wanted to ask you for a long time but just never got around to it until now.”

“Excuse me, I will go and speak to Amanda.”  Amanda was her assistant.  She went to the office where Amanda was going through receipts.  “Amanda, you’re not going to believe this.”

Amanda looked up, curious.  “What?”

“Logan Newman asked me to have lunch with him.”

Amanda laughed.  “He finally got around to it.  Good for him.”

She stared at her assistant.  “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Jada.  You must have seen the way he looks at you every time he’s in the shop.”

“I didn’t think he would notice me.”

“Why not?  And don’t give me that foolishness about your skin color or that you wear glasses.”

Jada removed her apron and went to the washroom to freshen up.  “How do I look?” she asked.

“You look great.  Now go and enjoy your first lunch date with grey eyes.  Take your time.  I can handle things here.”

Jada smiled.  “Thanks, Amanda.”

“I want details when you come back,” Amanda said before returning to the receipts.

Jada went to the front the shop where Logan was with his back towards her as he looked out at the street.  He turned when he heard her coming and smiled.  “Thanks for agreeing to have lunch with me at such short notice.”

“Thank you for asking me.”

“What do you feel in the mood for?”

“Thai.”

“Thai it is.”  He held the door open for her and she stepped out into the sunshine.  Hopefully, Amanda was right and this was the first of many lunch dates.

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Source:  Wikipedia

Bad Date

That’s the last time I’m ever, ever going on a blind date, she vowed.  I would rather end up an old maid with a cat than suffer through another disastrous dinner with a dud. 

Olivia was livid as she walked out of the restaurant.  She hailed a cab and quickly got in, anxious to put as much distance between her and her date.  All the way home, she fumed, reliving every tortuous moment of the date.  To say that it was a bad date was a gross understatement.

First of all, he was late and when he showed up, he was dressed as if he were if he were still lounging around in his apartment.  No effort to look presentable.  He was immature, kept calling her Olive and was more interested in his tablet than in her company.  The conversation was strained because they had absolutely nothing in common.  The only good thing was the restaurant.  The food was good but she didn’t enjoy it because of him.  She ended up paying for her own meal.  And passed on dessert.

At one point, he got her so mad that she had to excuse herself and go to the washroom where she spent a few minutes, trying to calm down.  It was then that she decided that she had had enough.  She was going home.  He could stay if he wanted. She didn’t care.

When she went back to the table, she announced that she was leaving.  He seemed surprised, though she couldn’t understand why he should be.  He was the worst date she had ever had the misfortune of having.  She wouldn’t wish him on her worst enemy.  She asked for the bill and paid her half and then she bid him goodnight and left.  She didn’t shake hands or anything.  She just left.

No more blind dates.  She had her career to keep her busy for the moment.  Being single was not such a bad thing.  It was better than being stuck in a bad relationship or marriage.  For now, she would put looking for love on hold.

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