As she ran back down the beach she could almost swear she felt his eyes on her.
The five o'clock crowd was boisterous tonight. Fiona brought another round of drinks to a table full of off duty stockbroker types. It was Thursday and some of the part timers had been coming up for long weekends. Since there was nothing else for miles, they always came to the Chowder House to get lit. Not to mention that the food was excellent.
Fiona was checking the levels of the tanks when he walked in. Davis was wearing a fisherman's sweater and tight jeans. He looked like he was in one of those preppy Nantucket catalogues. His eyes swept the room looking for something. She turned away just as he found her, but not so fast that she didn't catch his grin.
That was weird.
Davis never smiled.
She busied herself cutting lemons into wedges as he made a beeline straight for her, sitting at a bar stool directly in front of her.
Davis never sat at the bar.
Fiona glanced up and froze, her breath catching in her throat. Davis had an odd look on his face. It was... speculative.
"What can I get you, Davis?"
"A beer."
She nodded. She knew which kind he drank. Nothing fussy for Davis. Just a good old stout. She poured it for him and knifed the foam off the top. He was grinning at her when she sat the drink down. She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Something on your mind?"
"You know my name."
She rolled her eyes and went back to slicing lemons.
"Everybody knows who you are around here."
He sipped his beer, saying nothing for a while. He stared out over the water as the sky started to darken.
"Storm's coming."
"Looks like."
She did her best to ignore him, putting the lemons into the fruit caddy. Then she started on the limes.
"You never wear dresses."
The knife slipped in her hand and she cursed as it skidded over her finger. She looked down. She hadn't broken the skin.
"What did you say?"
"I said, you never wear dresses."
She stared at him across the bar, nonplussed.
"I- it's not practical to wear skirts when I'm working."
He nodded, sipping his beer.
"And you're always working."
"Well, not always..."
"Are you working tomorrow?"
She stared at him. Was he asking her out? His stunning gray eyes were staring at her warmly. Who knew that gray could have so much heat?
"I- um- probably. It's Friday."
"But you could have dinner with someone. Technically. Since you own the place."
She nodded wordlessly. He grinned like a kid in a candy shop.
"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at eight."
Her mouth dropped open. He grinned and finished his beer, walking out of the bar.
Had she just agreed to dinner with Davis? She hadn't. Not exactly. She felt her body getting hot. Even more so than usual. She knew he had just tricked her into saying yes. It didn't matter though. She knew that she would be there tomorrow night. At his house. In a dress. She shivered as the rain started to fall.
It was still raining on Friday when she shut down the restaurant after the lunch shift. She'd taken the night off for once. No one had said a word, acting as if it were her due. It was in a way. She shared the profits of the restaurant with her mother, who she co-owned with. She'd retired when dad got sick, but had seemed almost excited about coming back to cover a shift. Maybe she was lonely now that she was alone.
Was it possible she'd taken on too much responsibility? It made her think about what Davis had said last night at the bar. He'd implied in those few words that she worked too hard. Maybe Davis was right.
It still irked her that he'd commented on her lack of feminine attire. Still, she found herself standing in front of her closet, wondering where all her dresses had gone. She used to wear skirts and pretty dresses, didn't she? There was a sundress or two but the weather was far too chilly to wear them. She dug deeper and found a corduroy jumper that hadn't seen the light of day in 7 or 8 years. She grimaced. It was a good thing too... had she really worn this in high school? Maybe it was Junior High. Ugh, who cares? She chucked it onto a small pile for donations.
A half an hour later, the pile had grown to epic proportions. When was the last time she'd gone shopping? Her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of button downs and jeans, lots of them the worse for wear. She glanced at the clock. 4 pm. Plenty of time to head into town and pick something out for tonight.
She squelched the thought that she was doing this for Davis. She was doing this for her. He'd simply pointed out something she'd been ignoring. She barely knew the man for goodness sake.
Except that wasn't entirely true. She did know him. She wasn't sure how she did, but there it was. Davis was a man of his word. She knew that without having to think about it. Honest, hard working, wickedly smart and bullishly determined. And sexy. The man oozed sex. But not in every direction like some men. No, it was all directed toward her.
She felt like she knew everything about him. Well, almost everything. There was something dark and unspoken inside him, something that he kept hidden, maybe even from himself.
She pulled into a parking spot outside Krebs, the local department store. Well, it was two towns over. That's as local as you could get out here, retail wise. They'd started carrying tee shirts and towels at the Chowder House, simply because of how many parents had came in with sunburned kids. It wasn't exactly a fashion mecca.
She put change into the meter and stared up at the store front. Maybe she'd get some lingerie too. Not for her date, just to have. It wasn't likely he'd see her in her underpants on the first date. But it would be nice to have some pretty things, just in case.
Two hours and almost $1,500 later Fiona walked out of Krebs with five bags full of clothes. She loaded them into the trunk and eyed the hair salon across the street. It had been forever since she'd had her hair done. It wasn't like she was doing it for him or anything.
She added a few more quarters to the meter and crossed the street.
It wasn't such a big deal, she thought as she turned the car on an hour later. Just a trim and a blow out. She didn't think she'd had her hair done professionally since the Prom, and that was only because her best friend Debbie had dragged her with her. Fiona's mother had always trimmed her hair for her. She did a fine job at it too. But there was something a little bit... swingier about her hair today.
She grinned and looked into the rear view mirror. She was definitely ready for her date. She fiddled with the radio until she found her favorite station and drove back to the docks with the music at full blast.
It was almost 7:30 by the time Fiona was showered. She stood in front of her mirror, staring dumbly down at all the bags on the floor.
What had she done?
She held up a slinky navy dress in front of her body. She couldn't wear this! I mean, sure, it looked spectacular on her figure but it was so- just so- sexual.
Davis would think she wanted-
She stopped short and looked out the window. Maybe that is what she wanted. Sex. Maybe they could be fuck buddies. That's what it was called right? That's when you hung out with someone sometimes and fooled around, no questions asked. That sounded pretty nice actually. But if they were going to be buddies- well, she didn't need a dress for that. Still, it would make it easier to get undressed.
In the end she wore the dress with a cardigan over it. She looked nice but not like she was trying too hard. She'd also put on the new black lace bra and panties she'd purchased. It was good to have new bras, if nothing else. All her old ones were gray from over washing.
She brushed her hair out and applied a light coat of taupe eyeshadow that the sales woman had sworn was "everyday but better." Then came a smidge of cream blush, and berry lip stain. She decided against perfume. Her body lotion and shower gel had a faint vanilla smell. That was good enough for her.
She walked down the stairs to the parking lot, fishing in her bag for her car keys.
"Hi."
Her head jerked up. Davis was here. Waiting. For her.
"Hi."
He smiled at her warmly and she felt her nerves dissipate. It was just dinner. He was just there to pick her up. It was considerate, not menacing.
"You look nice."
"Thanks. You do too."
"I'm here to pick you up."
She gave him a look.
"I can see that."
He grinned and opened the passenger door on his absurdly expensive sports car. As she climbed in she caught him looking at her legs. Maybe she should wear skirts more often.
He climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot. Her hands clenched unconsciously on the seat. He glanced down.
"Sorry. Habit."
She just nodded, relieved as he slowed the car down. She looked over at him as she took a deep breath. He was grinning.
"What?"
He looked a little sheepish.
"You wore a dress."
"Oh. Well, it has been a while."