“Oh yes, the steak and salmon are perfect choices,” the waitress says, smiling down at Saxon as he stares at me.
“What would you like, Brooke?” He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he stares. I see the waitress push her boobs out and assume it’s not for my benefit.
“The salmon sounds wonderful, please.” I smile sweetly over at the waitress.
She doesn’t even acknowledge me as she leans over to Saxon. “And for you?” she purrs.
I cringe, then see Saxon tense and a small smile touches my lips. She’s making him uncomfortable. He doesn’t like her attention, which shocks me.
“The steak,” he says abruptly. No please, thank you, or even a glance her way.
We chat casually over lunch and don’t bring up work once. The conversation is easy and comfortable. Nothing forced or awkward. It’s almost like meeting Saxon for the first time. Forget the fact he is sitting across from me looking all sexy casual in his jeans and t-shirt. His hair is all windblown, and his eyes seem lighter somehow, like he doesn’t hold the stress he does when he’s at the office.
There is so much I didn’t know about him and things I assumed about him which weren’t the case. We actually have lots in common and looking at Saxon as a potential serious friend is exciting.
My past was spent at the art gallery with few staff and volunteering for charities with mostly older women, so I don’t have a lot of friends, male or female. Meeting Nate young, not working after college and having no siblings hasn’t helped either. I guess it all attributes to me only having a close circle of people in my life, or at least that’s how I like to explain it. I definitely won’t be turning down any new offers of friendship.
Saxon and I are laughing about the old guy getting kicked out the gallery, as he was offering paid tours but didn’t actually work there, when the waitress interrupts us.
“How was your meal today?” she asks Saxon. I notice she has undone a button on her shirt and shake my head.
Saxon leans away from her. “It was wonderful.” He’s doesn’t give her any more, and I honestly cannot remember a time I’ve seen him so uncomfortable in a situation. Fidgeting in his chair, avoiding eye contact. This isn’t Saxon. He’s always calm and in control. Especially when it comes to the ladies.
She continues to try and get his attention as she flirts with him and I decide to excuse myself to the bathroom. Not that the waitress would notice, but Saxon hasn’t taken his eyes off mine since she approached our table.
I diddle around in the bathroom, hoping the waitress will be gone by the time I return. I give my hair a light brush through before powdering my face and reapplying my lip-gloss.
When I return to the table the waitress is noticeably absent and Saxon stares out the window, looking deep in thought.
“Get a number, did ya?” I ask sarcastically, breaking his moment of peace. He gives me a sad smile and rolls his eyes. “What?” I ask him. “I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed. Surely you get that everywhere you go? You sure did in college.” He doesn’t answer and just stares at me, his face expressionless. “You give off an untouchable vibe, Sax, even dressed like that.” I gesture to his outfit. “You are walking sex and all women think so.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, well I don’t want you thinking that,” he says, no humour in his voice.
I know what he’s saying. There is no hidden meaning there and instead of dealing with it I choose to ignore it. Today has been one of the best days I’ve had since Nate died, and I’m not letting anything ruin it.
“Where to now? You promised me a day out in the sunshine,” I say trying to lighten the mood.
“You want to go and look through the markets?”
“Oh yes!” I squeal, bouncing in my seat and clapping my hands together. I love the local markets. I never really leave with much, but I love looking through all the handmade specialties, trying all the gourmet fresh foods and talking with all the eccentric vendors.
“Come on then.” He laughs at me as he throws a few bills on the table before taking my hand again. I spot the waitress on the way out and give her the biggest, sweetest, fuck-you smile I have. Saxon isn’t mine, not even close, but she doesn’t know that. Maybe she’ll think twice before approaching a man who’s dining with a woman. Slut. She glares at me and stomps off towards the kitchen causing me to laugh at her.
Saxon turns and looks down at me with a curious smile. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,” I say, still giggling. He shakes his head as he pulls me out of the restaurant and towards the markets down the road.