Jason gulped some hot coffee, and stole a long look at her. Her polished appearance and alluring gracefulness stood out in the café. This quiet café had been a good choice, and the few people around were all spread out. The perfect place for this talk.
Andrea always had this same kind of look to him. She may have been more made-up at times, or more casual, but there was always this look. Smugness. Confident. More like cocky. The slightly lifted chin, the cool expression, the steely eyes.
All of these were present today. And, all these things would make this perfect. His hands smoothed at his modest sport shirt, but he didn't really have to worry. He was probably invisible next to her. Unlikely noticed much by her.
Why was it that he was more like his dad, and a regular kind of guy, while his sister was naturally beautiful like their mom? Also like his dad, he was already working sales and trying to get established. Meanwhile his sister was going into acting, more outgoing and glamorous, like their interior designing mom. Seemed unfair to him.
"So, why all the mystery? Why did we need to meet and talk?" Her tone came playful. "You could have just come by the house."
The white blouse gave her a professional look today, as she had just come from her office. Her brownish-blonde hair was teased, and he loved that look. He hoped his own thick black hair wasn't sticking in all directions like it could.
Should have used some product.
"I wanted to run something by you." His voice cracked slightly, and he hated himself for it. His hands fidgeted with his coffee cup.
Her full, red lips curled at the sound of his nerves.
"Jason," she intoned, "you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. This is just a little difficult for me. That's all."
She paused a little, and it pleased him. "Difficult?"
"Yeah, not easy to talk about."
I'm about to rock your world, mom.
"It's not?"
His eyes didn't leave hers.
She shrugged. "Maybe you should talk to your father about it then. I'm sure he can help."
"No, that's probably not a good idea."
Her posture tightened. A quick blink.
He added with a relish. "You wouldn't like that."
That alluring face of hers tilted slightly. "
I
wouldn't like that? What are you talking about?"
Another sip of his coffee, and the hot flavor soothed him.
Take your time.
"Hear me out before making any rash decisions." He said it carefully.
She gave a quick, fake smile, before blurting out. "Darling, get to the point, alright? I don't have much patience today."
You never have any fucking patience.
His voice lowered. "I know. ...I know what's been going on."
She stared a second. "Uh, 'what's been going on?' What are you talking about?"
He took a deep breath. How many times had he played out this very exchange in his head? Would she get pissed-off? Get emotional? Just deny it?
"Your late lunches. Last Friday's late lunch."
He watched her carefully, taking every bit of satisfaction he could as the realization sunk in. It first showed in her eyes. They widened and then blankly stared, with her mind spinning to calculate.
"Late lunches? I don't know what you're talking about." A forced laugh.
"Yes, you do." He was so glad he finally sounded a little confident.
I'm a six foot, hundred ninety-five pound grown man; I gotta hold her accountable.
She leaned forward and her arms crossed on the table. The v-neck showed some cleavage he had to fight not to notice. He glimpsed for a split-second anyway.
"I think you're mistaken. I don't think you understand." She leveled her most charming grin at him, and the sight of it touched in his core.
Can she see she affects me? Even though... .
His response eventually surfaced. "But I do understand."
"No," her head shook a couple of times, her brownish-blonde hair waving, "I don't think you do."
"I have video."
There.
"You have
what
?"
"I have video." Surveillance had cost most of a commission check, but it proved worth it.
Her eyes grew big again, but relaxed when she chuckled softly.
"You have video of something? Jason, you're playing a ridiculous game." Her face slowly went from side to side.
"I have video of you and him going into the Carlyle Hotel. Going past the lobby, and going to the elevators."
Her eyes batted and tensed, and her forty-four years showed through. The smile not quite so poised. Her tone grew faint.
"Jason, Jason."
Her eyes wandered around the café, and she again shook her head. He started to speak again, but then let her twist a moment.
How will she play this?
"I have so many questions, but... . Well, the main thing is," she eyed him closely, "it would be impossible for you to know how things are for me."
"What?" He suppressed a chuckle.
"Your father and I... . Things haven't been good for a long time." Her voice trailed off.
"Well... ." He caught short and couldn't finish at first what he had planned to say. Her serious look about it stopped him.
"Jason, what is it?" Her look bore down at him now.
"Then, he shouldn't be that surprised then." He knew he sounded shaky, but he didn't care. He had the upper hand here.
"What the hell are you saying, young man?" Her look was certain; she wanted to slap him.
"I'm saying he will understand. Things haven't been good, and it shouldn't be a shock."
"You can't do that." Her words were matter-of-fact.
"I'm
going
to do that."
Her eyes studied him a long moment. "Then, why are we here?"
He didn't answer right away. Drawing a breath, the same question returned that he had toyed with over and over.
Exactly how do I tell her? When?
Her lips softened to a polite kind of smile. Maybe even condescending. "Are you suggesting that I go ahead and tell him first or something?"
