“Gran, please. Not the ‘healing’ speech right now. I know how you feel. I’ll figure it out.” Jessica tried not to take any sort of tone with her gran that would cause her to feel like a guilty chastised child and rethought her attitude toward her gran’s favorite topic. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.” Jessica was beaten down from the day and couldn’t mount her usual resistance to this discussion.
“Oh, I’m definitely right, pumpkin.” Maureen chuckled and so did Jessica, this time in genuine lightness. No matter what, speaking with her grandmother always made her feel better. “Look, as much as you don’t want to embrace it, Jess, you have a true gift. You’re going to need to look this thing in the face someday.”
Jessica was quiet for a moment. She knew what she wanted to ask but always got a little caught up in her throat when the moment of truth came. She reasoned that the day was already lost to a bunch of stupid tears so what did a few more matter? She cleared her throat and asked, “Gran… how did… I mean, what did… my mother…” She had to stop for a minute and choke back the nugget building in her throat. “How did my mother deal with all of this? What did she think? What did she choose?” Jessica’s forehead wrinkled up a bit and a tear squeezed its way out of the corner of her eye.
Maureen visibly softened, letting out a little breath, and tilting her head to the side. Jessica could almost feel her soft hand brushing the side of her face and leaned in toward her phone.
“Oh, my dear. Your mother, well she had a diff—”
“Hold on a min, Gran. I think I heard someone at my door. Probably just the neighbor lady looking for her cat again.” Jessica put her fork down in the meal she wasn’t really eating and wiped her face with a paper towel.
Jessica started talking before even opening the door. “Hey, Alice, just a minute.” She grabbed the knob and opened it. “I haven’t seen Jingles—”
She stopped mid-sentence, mouth slightly agape. The person at her door was decidedly not Alice. In front of her meager apartment door stood her last client of the day, Roman Smith—the incredibly sexy, frustratingly quiet, special friend of her boss. Jessica realized she’d been standing there staring for longer than socially appropriate, but she had no words. Should I invite him in? He’s clearly here to fire me in person. No, no I will not let him into my home to fire me in my pajamas; I don’t care how sexy he is even with all his clothes on.
“Hello, Jessica. May I come inside for a moment?”
“Um, sure. Ok. Alright.” Dammit, Jessica, she scolded herself. Jessica quickly scanned the small room, hoping there wasn’t anything mortifying laying around for this “platinum package” to notice that would cause her to shrivel up and die in shame.
“Sweet pea? Are you there, hun?” Jessica was snapped out of whatever moment she was having trying to decide if her apartment was normal or fell into the “risk to health and habitation” category. She wondered if someone like Roman had ever seen where the help lived, had ever stepped foot inside a dwelling space so small. Maybe this is one of his privileged elite kinks? He gets to come embarrass and fire me in my home and somehow gets off on it—
“Jessica Anne Roberts!”
“Oh! Sorry, Gran! Everything’s fine…” She eyed Roman. “I think.” She quickly returned to the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Um, Gran, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Jessica. What is going on?”
“It’s nothing, nobody. I love you. Goodnight.” She ended the call before her grandmother could reply, and she was confident she was going to get an earful for it.
Jessica surveyed Roman. Although he looked extremely out of place in his high-end clothes, a midnight blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing a lavender pattern on the inside of the cuff and dark gray slacks with a barely visible plaid pattern, he seemed more at ease and relaxed than he did an hour ago.
And still, frustratingly silent. Should I say something? Why isn’t he speaking? What does he want? This is so weird. Why do I want to touch him? With this last thought, Jessica could feel her hand begin to rise, like she was going to reach out for him, and quickly pulled it back.
“Hello.”
“Yes, you’ve said that already,” Jessica said, a little surprised with her harshness.
“Um, yes, I did,” Roman chuckled nervously and took a step toward her. Jessica instinctually took a step back.
“Look. I don’t know what you’re doing here. If you’re here to fire me, just get it over with and leave.” Jessica crossed her arms over her chest.
“Fire you?” Roman looked so genuinely confused that it gave Jessica pause. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, why else would you come here, to my home, after a bungled massage experience?” Jessica was actually starting to get a little fired up. “Was this part of the ‘package’ you arranged with Mr. Novik? I don’t really see how I could be of further assistance to you, Mr. Smith. I’m not interested in being humiliated nor is my body for sale. What the hell else do you want?”
Roman appeared stunned. He shook his head a little and blinked a couple times.
“Dinner,” he spurted out. “Dinner. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner. With me. Now. Unless you’ve already eaten that is.” He gestured to the barely-touched meal on the counter. “And please, call me Roman.”
“I could eat.” Jessica was just as surprised by her response as Roman seemed to be as he let out a breath. The instant she said it, they both relaxed a little bit. It wasn’t until this moment that Jessica had thought about what exactly she was wearing—a slouchy sweatshirt featuring a tacocat in space with leggings and leg warmers. She glanced down at herself and looked back up at Roman in time to see him hide a grin.
“Right. I’ll just go change,” she said as she left the room.
Jessica returned with her long, wavy hair down, wearing white-washed skinny jeans and motorcycle boots with a fitted white T-shirt. She grabbed her leather jacket, purse, phone, and keys.
“Ready?” Roman asked.
“As ready as I’m going to be,” Jessica replied while wondering just what in the hell she was doing.
They walked outside, and Roman had a car waiting for them. The driver hopped out and opened the door. “Mr. Smith, ma’am, right this way.” He gestured for them to get into the vehicle.
Jessica rolled her eyes a little and mumbled, “Of course,” before adding, “thank you.”
“I thought maybe we’d go to Ember. Have you been before?”
“No!” Jessica blurted out. “I mean, no I haven’t been, and I’d like to, just not tonight, please. Some coworkers were meeting up there, and I’d rather not run into them.”
“Alright. No problem. What about Jasper’s?”
“Oh, um…” Jessica was torn between turning down a second suggestion in a row, appearing rude, and knowing that Jasper’s was an exclusive restaurant—aka fancy and expensive as hell. “Am I dressed for someplace like that?” she asked, pulling on her jacket a little.
“You look perfect,” Roman assured her. He sent off a text, and they left her building.
The ride was awkward but more in an exciting, interesting way rather than uncomfortable. They both kept trying to ask questions at the same time, and there was a lot of “oh, sorry, no you go ahead.”
When they got to Jasper’s, on the roof of The Cosmopolitan, it was enclosed with floor-to-ceiling windows and had various styles of antique looking chandeliers hanging all over, providing very low light. The booths were arranged along the glass with the side facing the restaurant slightly closed off which gave the feeling of little, cozy, private nooks with amazing views. From where they were sitting, they could see the beautiful hot air balloon of the Paris as well as the Bellagio fountains of which they could stream the corresponding music through their point of service screen embedded in the wall of the booth.
“This view is breathtaking. I don’t usually get to see Vegas like this.”
