Page 11 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

Eleven

Clarissa

B ouncing on the balls of her feet, Clarissa’s heart was giddy with anticipation. She flitted between the counter and the tables of customers. Today, the smile on her face was genuine rather than her typical customer service politeness.

Friday afternoon, the sun shone in a clear sky; the April weather was warm with a break in the constant storm clouds. That, coupled with her faith in humanity being restored, meant she was having a fabulous day. So fabulous, the only thing that could have possibly made it better was the promise of seeing Tom.

She wasn’t just going to serve him an omelet while he watched her work; she was going to spend real quality adult time with him. Stomach flipping, her mouth went dry at the thought and her skin flushed. Should she wear one of her nice sets of panties? Ones with a matching bra—the type you’d bat your eyelashes at the ‘coincidence’ of wearing them when you undressed in front of another.

Ultimately, she decided against it. Tonight was only their second real date. She knew she liked him, but right now, her mind was too befuddled to decide if her physical need was getting in the way. And God, it was a need at this point. She was beginning to worry she’d forgotten how to have sex with anyone other than her own hand.

Maybe she would wear the nice matching underwear tonight. She wanted to ensure she liked Tom for who he was before her hormones and the feeling of him inside her persuaded her decision. But it never hurt to be prepared, did it?

Thoroughly overthinking her situation, she carried plates of food to the booth in the far corner. Some of the same individuals who sat there yesterday had returned. They seemed polite enough, but didn’t try to engage in small talk. Instead, they seemed to sit in silence, watching, trying to blend into the background.

Clarissa internally frowned at the oddness of it but didn’t let it bother her too much. As long as they paid their tabs and didn’t start trouble, what did she care how they spent their time?

As she set the last plate down in front of a new arrival, they caught her eye. A young man, early twenties maybe, stared her full in the face, making eye contact and refusing to break it. His brow furrowed as he considered her. She gasped; his dark eyes changed color on the edges, his deep irises flashed yellow. The same yellow as Alister’s eyes when he attacked her.

Someone at the table shuffled, the young man broke eye contact with a grunt. She blinked furiously and left. Running to the back, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. Her thumb hovered over Tom’s number.

“Would you consider calling me, if you were in need? Not just in dark parking lots, but if anything happened and you needed help. I want you to know you can call me.”

His words rang in her head. Was she truly in need though? She had no proof this man—or this table of rotating customers—was like Alister in his strange otherness or in his desire to harm.

No, she was just overreacting. The flash in his eyes was a trick of the light, a trick that made her remember that terrible night. Of course thinking about that was going to scare her.

“Don’t be such a ninny,” she chided herself, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

What was wrong with her? Getting startled and instantly reaching for her phone to call a man. She’d never relied on anyone like that before, no sense in starting now.

Breathing heavy, that realization hit her square in the chest. She didn’t have anyone … She was so used to figuring out her issues herself because she chose not to involve her aunt, but now she didn’t have that choice. Sure, she could call Greg, but he was there for Rachel, not her. When it came to Clarissa herself, her person, her emotions, her life, she was truly alone.

She’d known it for a while now, but the realization hadn’t sunk in. Not fully. Holding her breath, she fell against the wall. Where was she going to be in the next five years? What would happen to Rachel in that time?

After wiping her eyes, she slapped herself in the face. She couldn’t afford to think about that, about any of this right now. Pushing her emotions down, she went back to the dining room. She returned to the corner table, the man who’d stared at her was gone, his plate empty, a wad of bills tucked underneath it. The others in the booth were quieter than usual when she asked if they needed anything else. Refusing to notice their oddities, she concentrated on surviving the last three hours of her shift.

After clocking out, she rushed to her car, tossing her hoodie on the passenger seat. Anxious to get home, she wanted to check on Rachel and the home nurse. She also wanted time to shower before her mystery evening with Tom. Checking her phone on the way out she had a single message from him reading:

Don’t make dinner tonight.

Okay, obviously he was planning some sort of dinner, but did that include Rachel? Had he forgotten she needed to provide every meal for her aunt? Or maybe he simply didn’t realize. Or he had realized …

That only led to more questions. Was he taking both of them out somewhere or bringing the restaurant to them? How the hell was she supposed to dress without knowing what they were doing for the evening?

Now she thought about it, this was the second time she’d been in this situation. She was going to have to have a serious conversation with him about this and her need to prep proper outfits.

Parking in front of the double-wide, she looked at Elizabeth’s car. It was stamped with their brand logo; she’d been too flustered to notice it yesterday. Seeing it now gave her a welcome sense of relief. Rachel hadn’t spent the day alone.

“Hello?” She opened the front door cautiously, unsure what she’d find. What if Rachel had another episode when only Elizabeth was there? Would her coming home trigger her back into a violent fit?

“Claire!” Rachel sat at the kitchen table with Elizabeth, playing cards in hand. “How was school today?”

“It was good, how was your day?”

“I met our new neighbor, Elizabeth.” Rachel gestured to the nurse Clarissa had already met.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” She feigned an introduction. “I hope you two had a good day.”

“We did, thank you,” Elizabeth said, setting her cards down. “I’m afraid I lost track of the time; we were having so much fun.”

“Oh no, did I keep you?” Rachel asked.

“No, no, it’s fine, but I do need to get going. Maybe I can come back tomorrow and we can finish our game?” Elizabeth stood up, gathering her bag.

“You’re welcome any time.” Rachel walked her to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you!” She waved as Elizabeth got in her car.

Clarissa turned back to Rachel. “I’m happy you were able to meet the new neighbor, you needed more adult friends, spending all your time taking care of me.”

“Oh, hush you, you’re a delight.” Rachel waved a hand at her.

Clarissa changed the subject. “I have a friend coming over tonight. I hope you don’t mind, it was a last-minute plan.”

“Of course not, which one is it? Lilly or Emily?”

She winced internally. She hadn’t spoken to either of them since she was nineteen and they moved away and on with their lives. “I’m not sure if you’ve met him, it’s Thomas. We were going to have dinner, but I’m not sure yet if we’re staying here or going out.”

“Thomas …” Rachel tested the name. “Tom, yes, I think I remember him. He’s your prom date!”

Clarissa decided to take this as a win. It was easier than trying to make up a new identity for him and a reason why he was there.

“When is he going to be here?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, umm. I don’t know.” CRAP! Clarissa cursed him for not being more upfront with his plans and herself for not asking. She was in a real pickle. “I’m going to assume dinner time, six or seven. But I need to shower before he gets here. Will you be okay for a bit?”

Rachel laughed. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one with a mystery date tonight.”

After kissing Rachel on the forehead, she sprinted to the bathroom. Immersing herself in the scalding water, her mind started to race. Why was she so nervous? No, nervous wasn’t the right word. Excited, maybe.

She shouldn’t be getting so worked up. It was just dinner, and he was just a guy—A guy who had rescued her. A guy with a handsome face and dreamy eyes. A guy who was kind and funny, who made her smile and feel like herself again.

“Oh, stop daydreaming and wash your hair, woman!” she scolded herself. Still needing to pick an outfit, dry her hair, and possibly slap on mascara before he got here, she didn’t have time to dawdle.

Fifteen minutes later, she stood wrapped in a robe staring at her makeshift tension rod closet. Her hair was poofy from the hasty blow-dry, but that was the least of her worries.

“Claire,” Rachel called through the door. “There’s a strange car in the drive. Were you expecting someone?”

Making a hasty decision, she pulled out a royal blue sundress with a built-in bra, then pulled a thick brown bolero on. She sprayed herself with peony perfume and yanked a comb through her hair. She fought the tremble in her hands as she glided the mascara across her lashes before going out to the main room.

“Is there something happening tonight?” Rachel asked, eyeing Clarissa’s outfit.

“Tom is coming over.”

“Oh, you’re not wearing that to prom, are you? It’s a lovely dress, but it’s not fancy enough for prom.”

“No, prom isn’t tonight.” Clarissa poked her face into the kitchen window. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” Rachel came into the kitchen.

“Get a jacket and some shoes.” Beaming, she rushed to her sock drawer, then dug a pair of boots from the corner of her room. Sprinting to the front door, Rachel came back from her own room.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“I’m not entirely sure, but it looks like it’ll be fun.” Clarissa pulled her hoodie from the front closet, handing Rachel her own. “It’s warm, but you might need this later.”

Hoodie over her arm and Rachel on her heels, she went outside. The trunk of Tom’s dark blue 4Runner was popped open. A small battery box sat in one corner, wires coming out of it to the small table he’d set up with a projector aimed at the side of the double-wide. He pulled out three beanbags as they reached the lawn.

“Evening, ladies,” he said, “fancy a movie night?”

“You set up a projector on my lawn?” Clarissa laughed, a grin pulling at her face.

“What movie are we watching?” Rachel asked, inspecting the projector like it was an alien life-form.

“Nothing much.” He unexpectedly looked sheepish. “Just a little classic by Christopher Nolan.”

“No!” Clarissa yelled before she could stop herself. “You set up Batman in my front yard! Which one did you bring?” She practically ran to the car.

“The first one, obviously.” He laughed.

“What are you waiting for?” She looked at the projector, searching for the play button.

Tom laughed harder. “Don’t you want to eat first? I brought hummus, you’re hurting its feelings.”

“You brought food too?” Rachel sounded impressed.

“I did.” He went to the car, pulling out three containers from the trunk. “Lemon rice, kofta kebabs, roasted vegetables, and hummus.”

“A different cousin works at a different restaurant?” Clarissa asked.

“Close. One married a man from the Mediterranean and together they own a restaurant. Lemons ’n’ Garlic on Main Street.”

“Again, I ask, how many cousins do you have?” Clarissa ogled him as he handed out containers of food.

“My family has a habit of calling close friends cousins,” he admitted. “By blood, I think I only have six.”

“You call so many people your cousin, you don’t even remember how many real cousins you have?” she asked.

“Call it a character flaw.” He pulled out three bottles of lemonade.

Rachel thanked him for the food and settled into the far-right beanbag. Handing Clarissa her bottle, she thanked him. When he didn’t let go, she looked up at him.

He pulled her in close, leaning into her. Hot breath on her ear, his cologne intoxicated her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she took in a deep breath.

“You look beautiful.” His whisper sent shivers down her spine, warmth pooling in her lower abdomen.

He released the lemonade and pulled back, smirking before turning away.

Letting out a shaky breath, she settled into the middle beanbag and stared at her feet. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

With her dinner finished and the container on the ground, Clarissa curled her knees up to her chest. Leaning sideways, her shoulder was dangerously close to resting on Tom.

“Which part is your favorite?” he whispered.

“Isn’t this your first time watching this?” she asked.

“Yeah, and?”

“Why are you talking through it? You should be watching.”

“I am watching,” he said. “It’s dark out and he’s punching people. But I’m having more fun watching you watch the movie, and I want to know what your favorite part is.”

“If you’ve been watching me instead of the movie, you should be able to guess.”

“You’d think, but you’ve been overly enthusiastic this whole time,” he whispered back. “I knew you liked the movies, but this is bordering on obsession. You might need a ten-step program.”

“Only ten steps? Well then, I’m doing better than I used to.” She smiled. “My favorite, favorite part hasn’t happened yet. Pay attention to Alfred’s lines when the fire happens.”

“There’s a fire?”

“Not yet. Give it about ten minutes.”

He chuckled under his breath and scooched closer to her, the warmth radiating off him hitting her side. It felt nice.

After a few moments, she felt something hot brush against her hand. It happened again, this time she flexed her finger toward it. One of his hands engulfed hers while the other brushed idly up and down her arm.

Closing her eyes, she tried to center herself. Goose bumps crept over her skin. Her breath hitched. Oh God, it felt amazing. She’d never had this type of simple intimacy before, she didn’t realize how much she needed it. After all, you couldn’t miss something you’d never had. Suddenly she was starving for it. She felt hollow; her body and soul were ignored and touch starved—she was sick of it.

Even something as simple as him stroking her arm was enough to send her into hyperdrive. Yet, she was content to stay like that, enjoying his presence for as long as he was willing to sit next to her.