Not Quite Dating Page 3

Jessie actually liked the service industry. Not that she wanted to become a career waitress or anything, but maybe some type of manager position in a fancy establishment. Maybe catering events, or organizing big parties. The thought of being a wedding planner had a nice, clean feel about it. Not like nursing, with all the blood and body fluids.

  Jessie did manage to take one class each semester online to help her out once she started back full-time. She had a year to figure out what she wanted to do for a living.

  Of course, dating a rich guy couldn’t hurt.

  Jessie considered the overnight crowd at the diner, especially him…Jack. The guy with the sexy, cute smile and never-give-up attitude. He hadn’t left the restaurant until after five in the morning. When he did, he climbed into the worn-out truck in the parking lot and sputtered on down the road. Before he left, he promised to return.

  Jessie hadn’t encouraged him, didn’t even reveal her schedule when he asked. By the end of the evening, she and Jack’s conversation had been reduced to snarky comments and witty comebacks.

  If she were being honest with herself, she’d have to admit her shift had flown by and left her with a smile on her lips. It didn’t suck to know someone actually acknowledged her as a woman and not just a mother.

  The soft patter of feet tapped down the hallway of the apartment. Danny sported his race-car pajamas and hair that stuck up in several places. He rubbed sleep from his eyes when he said, “Good morning, Mommy.”

  “Morning, buddy. How’d you sleep?” Jessie knelt down and pulled her son into her arms for a hug.

  Danny gave up one arm to join her hug, but continued to scratch his eyes with the other. “Good,” he said with a big yawn. “Auntie made us sundaes last night after you went to work.”

  “Did she? Were they good?”

  “We didn’t have any nuts to sprinkle on the top, but they tasted good anyway.”

  Danny pulled away and climbed up onto the stool at the kitchen counter.

  Jessie removed bowls from the cupboard and brought a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator. “I’ll buy some nuts before we do our Christmas baking. Next time you can have nuts on your sundae,” she told him.

  He yawned again. “OK.”

  While Danny took a few minutes to wake up with his bowl of cereal, Jessie stepped to her bedroom to slip into a nightgown.

  The bed was tousled since Monica slept in it on the nights Jessie worked. Otherwise, she took the sleeper sofa bed in the living room. They really could use a three-bedroom apartment, but that was a luxury they couldn’t afford. It was hard enough rubbing her tips together to pay for what they had.

  Monica slipped into the bedroom, wearing her student nurse uniform. The stark white outfit would hang on most people, but not Monica. Her slim build and naturally blonde hair accented the clothes. “Oh, good, you’re home,” she said as she sailed around the room picking up her clothes from the night before.

  “Day shift showed up on time for once,” Jessie told her.

  “That’s good. I need to be at the hospital at eight thirty sharp.”

  Jessie glanced at her watch. “Can you still take Danny to school?”

  “Yeah, that’s not a problem.”

  Good. Danny had started kindergarten a couple of months prior, which afforded Jessie a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Sleep was heaven. Only on her days off did she manage more than about five hours.

  “You work again tonight, right?” Monica asked.

  “Right. Off tomorrow.”

  “What about Thanksgiving?”

  “I couldn’t give up the shift, Mo. Time-and-a-half pay is needed this month if I’m going to give Danny any Christmas at all.” Jessie would have to work graveyard on both Wednesday and Thursday nights, leaving a small window of time to sleep and enjoy the holiday.

  Monica leaned against the dresser. “You know Mom is expecting us at her place at two.”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. Has Pat come back, or are we taking him off our Christmas card list?” Pat was her mother’s latest boyfriend.

  Renee Effinger, Jessie and Monica’s mother, three-time divorcee, no longer married the many men in her life. Instead, she dated them, let them move in for a few months, and then kicked them out when she tired of their crap. Pat had actually left her around Halloween. Renee hadn’t seen it coming, and ever since his departure, she moped around her singlewide mobile home playing the jilted woman. Too bad the woman didn’t follow her own advice and marry a rich man. No, Renee Bradly-Mann-Smith-Effinger fell in love three times in her life, all with losers, dreamers, or wannabe men.

  William Mann, Jessie and Monica’s real father, married her mother after she found out she was pregnant. The marriage lasted through Monica’s first birthday. Jessie was three the last time she saw her dad. She held no memories of the man. Only a few scattered pictures shed any light on the person who fathered her.

  Damn if Jessie hadn’t fallen into the same path as her mother. As much as she hated to admit it, Renee and she were a lot alike.

  Jessie’s high school boyfriend, Rory, stuck around long enough to take her to her senior prom. When Jessie confirmed she was pregnant, she actually wanted Rory to step up and take responsibility.

  What a waste of a dream that turned out to be. Rory bolted the day after he earned his high school diploma and never looked back. Some days Jessie hated him for it; others, she was glad he didn’t stick around to screw up Danny’s life. A part-time dad who didn’t care was worse than none at all. A couple years after Danny was born, Jessie met loser number two. Jessie’s last boyfriend, Mathew, had convinced her to let him move in with her to “help out” with the expenses and then left with her full month’s rent in his pocket after two months. Jessie swore then she’d only date guys who had their shit together.

  “Pat’s gone for good,” Monica told her while she put on a pair of stud earrings.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Mom said his friend came over to her house and took all his things. I’m guessing that means he’s not coming back.”

  Jessie toed off her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s too bad. I actually liked this one.”

  “I did, too. Oh well. You know Mom; she’ll have another guy by Christmas…New Year’s at the latest.”

  “No doubt she will. Listen, Danny asked if he would see Grandpa Pat on Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah. I told him that Pat wasn’t his grandpa but just a friend of Grandma’s and that Pat was visiting some of his family for the holidays.” Monica was sharp.

  “I knew this would eventually happen with all the men Mom has in her life. I guess I need to be more careful with who I allow her to bring into his life.” Jessie hated to have to avoid seeing her mother when she had a new man in her life, but in order to save Danny’s long-term feelings, Jessie didn’t have a choice.

  Once Danny had started school, he’d asked about dads and grandfathers. Neither of which he had.

  “Mom?” Danny called from the kitchen.

  Dragging her tired limbs off the bed, Jessie walked into the other room to see what Danny needed.

  “What’s up?”

  “Do you remember about the party at school tomorrow?”

  Jessie laughed. There were two flyers littered with pilgrims and pumpkins hung on her refrigerator about the party. Danny was superexcited about it. “Of course I do.”

  “Good. The teacher asked if some of the moms could bring treats. Can you make those pumpkin cookies again like you did for Halloween?”

  Jessie ruffled her son’s light brown hair with a smile. “Of course I can.” She’d just have to cut an hour out of her sleep and make it to the store to gather the ingredients and make said cookies before her next shift.

  She would also have to skip sleeping on the day of the school party until after Danny returned home from school. With one day off between then and Thanksgiving, Jessie figured she’d manage only a handful of hours o
f sleep combined.

  “Let’s get you dressed so Auntie can take you to school.”

  More awake, Danny skipped to his bedroom and started pulling clothes from his dresser. Within ten minutes, the two of them had left and Jessie fell into bed.

  “Oh boy, what is he doing here…again?” Jessie asked Leanne the minute the bell on the door leading into the diner rang and Jack sauntered in from the cold. He caught her eyes, smiled, and tipped his hat in greeting.

  “I told him you were working,” Leanne said.

  “Why did you go and do that? Don’t encourage him.”

  “I think he’s cute. And so do you, don’t even try and deny it.” Leanne pulled a hot plate from the window and left Jessie’s side.

  “Hey, darlin’,” Jack said while sliding into the swiveling seat at the counter.

  “What are you doing here, Jack?” Jessie folded her arms over her chest and ignored the beat of her rising pulse.

  “Checking on you.”

  “I thought I made myself clear last night. Not interested.”

  Not offended in the least, Jack grinned and offered a glimpse of the dimples that framed his lips. “Why, I’d love some coffee, Miss Jessie, thanks for offering.”

  Jessie grumbled while twisting to retrieve a cup and the coffee.

  She served him quickly before rushing off to take care of an order. The diner was busy this early in the evening with the late dinner crowd. Hopefully she could ignore the cowboy at the counter enough so he’d just go away.

  Didn’t happen. Even after she ignored him for nearly an hour, Jack just smiled and waited until she couldn’t disregard him any longer. “I would love a piece of pecan pie to go with this coffee.”

  “Do you want that à la mode?”

  “Now you’re talking my language.”

  Jessie went about preparing his pie, feeling the weight of his stare on her back the entire time.

  When she set it in front of him, he rubbed his hands like a kid. “I love pecan pie, don’t you?”

  “At two thousand calories a slice, I don’t indulge very often.”

  He shoved a forkful in his mouth and spoke around his food. “You don’t look like you need to worry about your figure.” His gaze raked up and down her frame. Not exactly the desired response she wanted.

  “Every woman worries about her figure.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve been told many times that skinny women don’t think about it much at all.”

  “They’re lying.”

  His brows turned up. “Really?”

  “Really. Every woman would love to eat all the steak and pecan pie there is out there, but they know if they do they’ll be fighting the flab by the time they’re thirty.”

  “Makes me wanna tempt you with my aunt Bea’s homemade pecan pie even more. It’s the best. This isn’t bad, but it has nothing on Aunt Bea’s pie.”

  Jessie smiled despite herself. “And where is this Aunt Bea of yours?”

  “Texas.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be driving home for the long weekend?”

  “You mean for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah.” She poured him more coffee.

  “Nope, not this time. Maybe for Christmas.”

  “Do you go home often?”

  He took his time answering. “Sometimes.”

  Vague answer. Not that she should care.

  Jack finished his pie while Jessie wrapped up two of her tables. Only a sprinkling of customers littered the restaurant when Jack suggested that Jessie sit and take a short break.

  Instead, Jessie leaned against the counter and folded her arms over her chest. “Jack, listen, I’m flattered.”

  “You said that last night.”

  “And you obviously didn’t listen. I’m flattered, but I’m not going to go out with you.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  Her hands fell to her hips. “If you know, then why are you here?”

  “I’m so glad you asked,” he said. He patted the seat next to him. “Sit, let me explain.”

  Something in the way his eyes followed her around told her he wasn’t completely dispelled from the thoughts of dating her. If sitting would hurry him along, then she might as well get it over with. Jack distracting her all night would end with fewer tips than she needed.

  When Jessie slid into the chair beside him, the scent of his cologne washed over her. Musk and spice, very masculine and very Jack.

  Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach at sitting beside him, she said, “OK, explain.”

  Tilting his hat back, Jack shifted in his seat to give his complete attention to her. “I’ve decided to help you.”

  “Help me what?” She hadn’t asked for any help.

  “Help you find the rich man of your dreams.”

  Jessie’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “You said you only want to date rich men. Well, I know where you can find men like that, and I’m going to help you hook up with one.”

  She’d never heard anything more ridiculous in her life. She didn’t even want to honor his words with a response. Jessie started to leave her seat when Jack stopped her by holding on to her arm. “I’m serious.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” she snapped, doing her level best to ignore the heat of his touch.

  “Just sit a minute and hear me out.”

  Begrudgingly, Jessie sat back down and shook out of his hold.

  “I realize you don’t want to date me. Which is a crying shame, since I think we’d get along great, but if I can’t convince you to go out with me, I can at least be a friend. Nothing wrong with having friends.”

  “You and me…friends?”

  “Friends. You have those, right?”

  “Of course I have friends.” She wasn’t a complete loser. Yet when she thought about it, outside of her sister and a few waitresses at the diner, she didn’t know whom she’d call a friend. Most of her school friends had all gone off to college or somewhere new mothers didn’t. Sadly, Jessie’s friendship pool was rather shallow.

  “Great. Friends help friends.”

  “And you want to help me?”

  “Yep. Do you know where The Morrison is, over by the airport?”

  “The hotel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, I know where it is.”

  “Well, this Saturday night there’s a big Christmas cocktail party taking place. I happen to know plenty of deep pockets are going to be attending.”

  She shook her head. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’ll get you in and point out the men who fit your wish list.”

  The Morrison was a top-notch hotel that Jessie had never had the pleasure of visiting. She’d be lucky to afford a Motel 6. “Wait a minute. Let’s say you could get me in—not that I’d have anything to wear to a cocktail party at some fancy hotel, but let’s say you could. Why would a guy who admits to wanting to date me hand me over to a different guy?”

  “I told you…I’m deeply wounded you don’t want to date me, but I get it.”

  Deeply wounded. Talk about overkill.

  “I’m not your type,” he continued. “The least I can do is determine if there’s someone I can help hook you up with to make you happy.”

  That all sounded well and good, but something wasn’t right about the proposition. “How exactly are you going to ‘get me in’?”

  “I’m serving that night. I can slip you an invitation.”

  So he waited on people for a living, too. “Won’t that jeopardize your job?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not worried. It’s a temporary thing anyway.”

  Still, something felt wrong. Jessie stood and said, “Well, thanks anyway, but I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “What if I can get you something?”

  She cocked her head to the side, baffled. “How?”

  “You wouldn’t believe the things people leave behind in high-end hotels. I found this watch once, cost about two
thousand dollars. Some guy just left it on the counter in the bathroom.”

  “Didn’t you try and get it back to him?”

  “It was in the lobby bathroom. We left it in the lost and found for months, but no one claimed it.”

  “So you took it.”

  “No, I wore it a couple of times, then I put it back.”

  He borrowed it. “Are you saying women leave evening gowns at the hotel?”

  “All the time.” His boyish smile was growing on her. It wasn’t as if she’d find a rich husband, or boyfriend for that manner, waiting tables at Denny’s.

  “I don’t know…”

  Jack stood and stepped close to her. He was a good four inches taller than she was, and Jessie wasn’t exactly short.

  “What are you, a size eight, ten?”

  “Eight, not that it’s any of your—”

  “Business,” he finished for her. “I know.” His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Shoe size?”

  She was still stuck on giving out her dress size to a stranger. At nearly five eight, being a size eight was perfect. Still, saying it aloud left a bad taste behind her tongue.

  “Well?”

  “What was the question?”

  “Shoe size?”

  “They leave shoes, too?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Seven. I wear a seven in shoes.” That was easier to say.

  “We’re good then.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Jessie. What do you have to lose? A fancy night out, plenty of champagne, wine, shrimp cocktail, fruit, cheese, the works. All free.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not working, Leanne already told me.”

  Jessie shot Leanne a dirty look from across the restaurant. “Traitor,” she mumbled.

  Jack nudged her with his elbow. “I’ll bring the dress Thursday morning.”

  “Geez, did Leanne tell you my whole schedule?”

  “Pretty much. I’ll bring the dress and the invitation. All you have to do is show up.”

  “I won’t know anyone.”

  “You’ll know me.” He winked at her and her stomach did a small roll in return. What did she have to lose? She could show up, have a glass of wine, and leave if it felt wrong being there.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll go.”