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Chapter 89

Nick didn’t see Claire for the rest of the week. He’d told her to call if she needed anything, but she didn’t call, so he didn’t drop by again. He figured if she wanted to see him, she would let him know. Clearly, she didn’t.

His weekend at home was altogether depressing then, for the realization had struck him that Claire was the only true friend he had left in Florida… and things would never be the same between her and him.

It was raining in Tampa on Sunday morning, as he boarded the plane to take him back to LA. So appropriate, he thought as he stared out the tiny plane window, watching the raindrops bead on the other side of the thick glass. The weather was as shitty as his mood.

As the plane turned onto the runway in preparation for take-off, Nick curled his fingers around the end of his armrest, gripping it tightly, and closed his eyes. Why do I put myself through this? he wondered. I should have just stayed in LA. Then I wouldn’t be sitting on this deathtrap right now. Why had he even come back to Tampa? Claire didn’t need him. She had her family and her girlfriends… and Jamie. Goddamned Jamie.

Nick’s foul mood lasted all the way back to the west coast. Only when he got off the plane at LAX did a bit of good news brighten it, as he turned on his cell phone to find a voicemail waiting for him. Punching a few buttons, he soon heard his realtor’s chipper voice on the recording.

“Hello, Nick; it’s Therese Lester. Good news! I think I’ve found a house for you…”

***

A week passed, a very boring week in Claire’s life. She spent most of the week at home, with her bum arm and bad eye, and didn’t hear from either Nick or Jamie. The most interesting thing that happened all week was that a giddy Laureen called to announce that she’d finally broken up with Tim. That called for a celebration, and the two of them got together for a spontaneous “girls’ night out” that Wednesday, since Laureen was off on Thursday. They pigged out on the most fattening pancake combos they could order at the IHOP and then headed back to Laureen’s apartment for drinks and movies.

For Claire, it was great to hang out with Laureen and catch up with what had been going on at work in her absence. She laughed at all of the interesting patient stories Laureen had collected over the last couple of weeks, and though she wasn’t exactly looking forward to the bad breath and bitten fingers, she couldn’t wait to get back to work. With her new hormone replacement therapy going well, her arm on the mend, and one eye practically good as new, she was feeling much better and more in control of her life than she had before the car accident that had put her out of commission. Once she was back at work, she hoped things would truly feel like normal for the first time in months.

The next day, a knock came on her door just as she was opening up a boxed dinner to throw together for her supper. Wondering who could be there, Claire set the box down on the counter and went to get the door. She pulled it open to find Jamie standing there, a small Wal-Mart bouquet of flowers in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face.

Claire tried to hide her surprise at seeing him. “What, did you lose my phone number or something? Or did you just forget it’s a nice gesture to call before you just show up at someone’s door?” she asked indignantly.

“Claire…” said Jamie, his voice patronizing. “Come on. Give me a break. I came over to apologize.”

“For…?” Claire prompted. She refused to let him get off that easy.

“For last week? For insulting Nick? And pushing him? I’m sorry.”

Claire raised her eyebrows, impressed that he’d included all of these things without being prompted further. And he didn’t even sound sarcastic. Unenthusiastic, yes. But sarcastic? Surprisingly, no. “Good,” she said. “You should be. You acted like an asshole.”

Jamie nodded, holding up his free hand in defense. “I agree,” he replied easily. “That’s why I came to apologize. I… I was just surprised to find him here and disappointed that I wasn’t gonna get you all to myself for lunch, and I took it out on him. I’m sorry.”

When Claire gave him a skeptical look, he held out the flowers. “I wanna make it up to you, Clairie.”

“With a cheap bouquet? Since when do I fall for stuff like that?” Claire asked derisively, cocking her eyebrow higher. She was having fun giving him a hard time; after the way he had treated Nick the other day, she was going to make him work.

“Oh no, not with this,” said Jamie, tossing the flowers aside. “Forget those. Those were just the beginning. I really just wanted to know if I could bring you back to my place, for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, why not? You know I can cook better than you. I’m grilling steaks… baked potatoes… salad… garlic bread… Whaddya say?”

Claire’s mouth was already watering, but she wasn’t about to cave that easily. “Steaks, huh? New job must be treating you well then?”

Jamie smiled. “You know it. Come on, I already bought two of them, they’re thawing on the counter right now, and I’m not gonna eat both of them. Are you gonna make me waste my money?”

Claire put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine,” she gave in with a tiny smile. “Wait here while I grab my purse.”

***

A short while later, Claire was following Jamie into his apartment. “Make yourself at home,” he told her, as he walked her through the kitchen and into the living room, motioning towards the couch. “I’m just gonna throw the steaks on the grill.”

Claire nodded, settling down on the couch while Jamie walked back and forth between the kitchen and his small balcony, where his grill was set up, getting everything ready. Spotting the remote control sitting on the small coffee table in front of her, she picked it up and flipped on the TV. It was nice to be able to enjoy watching TV again, now that her eye had healed. The improvement in her vision was dramatic; she hadn’t realized how crappy it had become until she got the cataract removed. She couldn’t wait to get the other one fixed too, but her second surgery wasn’t scheduled for another three weeks.

Glancing from the evening news on TV to the sliding glass door that led out to Jamie’s small private balcony, Claire watched with a tiny smile on her face as he carefully flipped the steaks on his grill. Her attention diverted, she all of a sudden felt something touch her ankle. Startled, she jumped and reflexively pulled her leg up onto the couch. As she did so, her ears picked up the smallest of hisses, and she looked down to see a tiny gray furball staring up at her through wide, blue-green eyes.

“Oh,” she heard Jamie say, as the door slid open and he walked in. “I see you met Bright.”

Claire glanced from the kitten to Jamie and then back again. The little thing looked terrified, its fluffy fur standing on end, its tail puffed out and fat. “Yeah… I think I scared the shit out of Bright.”

“Why did you do that?”

Claire shrugged. “She scared me first.”

Jamie shook his head and clicked his tongue, an exasperated expression on his face. “Only you, Claire,” he sighed patronizingly. “She’s a kitten!”

“She came up and brushed against my leg! I didn’t see her. You know how I hate to be startled,” Claire replied. She was just giving him a hard time. He also knew how she didn’t like cats.

“Aww, she didn’t mean to scare you. She’s just a baby!” Jamie cooed and bent to pick up the frightened cat. Cradling her like an infant, he brought her close to his face and planted a big smoochy kiss on the top of her head.

Claire watched in disbelief. “Are you turning into a crazy cat lady on me, James?” she teased him, totally amused by this show of affection.

“Eh, I’d need a few more of them to count as that, I think,” he replied seriously, scratching Bright behind her fuzzy gray ears.

“I’m sure your landlord would love that. I’m surprised you’re even allowed to have pets. We’re not in my complex.”

“Well, my landlord’s a crazy cat lady herself,” said Jamie with a grin. “We’re allowed to have cats and anything smaller… just no dogs.”

Claire scoffed. “That’s discrimination. Dogs are way better.”

“No they’re not. They smell… they drool… you can’t litter box train them…”

“They’re good companions though… friendly… loyal… obedient. Have you taught Bright to fetch yet, Jamie? How about to shake?”

“She’s friendly. She can shake,” Jamie insisted and picked up one of the kitten’s front paws, waggling it around limply. “See?”

Claire made a face. “Pathetic,” she shot back with a wide, teasing grin. The ‘dogs versus cats’ debate was an old one with them; they’d been having it since they’d become friends in high school, back when Claire still had a dog, the dog she’d grown up with, and Jamie’s family owned two mean old cats. It was just a big joke between them now.

“I’m gonna check the steaks,” said Jamie. “Here, hold her.” Before Claire could protest, he plopped the kitten down in her lap and strode back outside. Claire aimed her middle finger at his back before looking down at the gray fuzzball who was currently digging its tiny, razor-sharp claws into her thighs.

“Ouch,” she muttered and slipped her hand underneath the cat’s little body, gently prying it off her lap and lifting it into a more comfortable position – the crook of her broken arm, its body the perfect size to be cradled by her bent cast. Bright made herself comfy there, curling up and nestling in… She was actually pretty cute, thought Claire, even if she was full of dander and destined to turn into a temperamental brat of a cat. Smiling a little, she gingerly rubbed the top of the kitten’s head. Her dark gray fur was fluffy and incredibly soft.

By the time Jamie came back in, carrying two large steaks on a plate, Bright was sound asleep in Claire’s arms. She cast a sheepish look up at Jamie, who shot her a triumphant smile in return. “Aww, ain’t that cute,” he remarked. “I need to get a picture of this, as proof… Dianna will have to see it to believe it.”

Claire just shook her head, but Jamie was serious. He had dropped the steaks off in the kitchen and gone to his bedroom to get his camera before Claire got around to getting the cat off of her. “Smi-ile,” he sing-songed as he raised the digital camera, a smug grin spreading across his face as he studied the viewfinder on the back of it. Claire put on a cheesy, sarcastic smile as the camera flashed, leaving bright spots dancing before her eyes.

The flash of light caused the kitten to open her eyes and look around, discombobulated. She stretched out her paws, clawing Claire’s shirtsleeve, and hopped down a moment later. “Lemme see,” Claire demanded, leaning forward as she reached out for Jamie’s camera. He handed it to her, and she played with the buttons until she got the image of her holding the cat to come up on the tiny screen. “Cute,” she said dryly, grimacing as she gave the camera back to him. “Can we eat now?”

“Ah ah ah, wait just a minute,” Jamie replied, wagging his finger at her. “I’ll come get you when it’s all ready.” He hurried back into the kitchen, where she heard him rummaging around, opening and closing cupboards, clinking dishware and utensils together.

A minute passed… several, in fact, before Jamie finally came back into the living room. “Dinner is served,” he announced grandly, making a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen. Laughing, Claire got up and followed him into the other room. There she found the kitchen table all set for two, both plates filled with steaming hot food that made her mouth water. Juicy steak… baked potatoes… crisp salad… and garlic bread that looked almost dripping with butter and garlic… it all looked heavenly.

“Wow, Jamie,” she said, sinking down into the chair he pulled out for her. “This looks great! I forgot you could cook!”

“Mom taught me well,” he replied with a smirk and then motioned to her plate. “I hope you don’t mind that I cut your steak for you… I just thought it might be tricky, with your arm…”

She smiled down at the steak, perfectly cut into bite-sized cubes, then up at home. “No, that was really thoughtful. I’m impressed!”

Looking pleased with himself, Jamie sat down across from her. “Dig in,” he urged her. “Let me know how it is.”

Claire slopped a small puddle of steak sauce onto her plate and stabbed a piece of meat with her fork, dragging it through the sauce. Lifting it to her lips, she put it in her mouth and closed her eyes as she bit into it, savoring the taste. It was just as good as it looked and smelled, juicy and grilled to perfection, still tender but not too rare. She opened her eyes and smiled. “Perfect,” she gave her review.

They chewed more than talked for the next few minutes, enjoying the dinner. It was a good homecooked sort of meal, the kind Claire only ate when she was at her parents’ house. It seemed futile to try to prepare this sort of meal just for herself at night, and she would probably find a way to mess it up anyway. Jamie, though… he had it down. Mrs. Turner really had taught him well.

“So, Clairie,” Jamie said after awhile, raising his eyes to meet hers. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh? You’re propositioning me?” she asked, arching an eyebrow playfully.

He smirked. “Hear me out. What would you say to dinner with me again on Friday? Dinner out. With a couple of other people.”

Claire narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “And who would these other people be? Not Greg and Jerr, would they?”

“No, no, not them,” Jamie replied, shaking his head quickly. “I’d never subject them to that again – Greg’s afraid of you.” Claire laughed, remembering with satisfaction the way she’d punched him in the face for calling Nick a gimp. “No, these are people from work.”

He still sounded vague, and she knew he was up to something. “O-kay… so why do you want me there, if it’s a work thing?”

With a shit-eating grin, Jamie replied, “Well… so one of them is this chick... she’s a secretary for the company, and she’s really, really hot.”

Claire automatically rolled her eyes and immediately knew she was being roped into a scheme to help him score with this woman. Sure enough…

“So anyway, one of the guys I work with, this guy named Stew... he knows her and apparently has some pull with her, so he said he’d hook me up on a date with her… but only if I set him up with somebody too.”

Claire’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, stop right there!” she interjected, holding up her hand. “Would that ‘somebody’ be me?” A guilty smile started to slide across his face, but before he could even answer, she went on, “Jamie, I’m not ready to start dating again. It’s only been a few months since I… left Nick.” She averted her eyes on this last part, still ashamed of it.

“Hey, don’t freak out, okay?” Jamie replied quickly. “I’m not setting you up to start dating this guy seriously. All I’m asking for is one date… a group date, with me and this hot secretary… her name’s Sarah.”

“Why can’t you just ask her out yourself? Why do you have to go through this other guy?” demanded Claire.

“I dunno, I don’t know her that well… I don’t wanna freak her out. Stew knows her, she thinks he’s harmless; he said he’d get her to agree to a group thing so she and I could get to know each other, and he did. Friday night. The only thing is, now I need to hook him up with a date for the night too, and… you’re the only single woman I know down here.” He shot her a cheeky grin.

“So basically, you’re just using me to get a woman?” she asked, eyebrows cocked. “You want me to go on a blind double date with you and some random guy I probably have nothing in common with, just so-“

“He’s really nice,” interrupted Jamie. “I promise, I wouldn’t set you up with a creep. Please, Claire? It’s just one night… just a few hours. Dinner… maybe drinks? That’s all, I promise. Nothing romantic; it’ll just be a casual thing, a fun thing. And after that, you never have to see him again if you don’t want to.”

Claire gave him a long-suffering look, and he retaliated with puppy eyes, sticking his bottom lip out in a perfect pout. He’d perfected this look; he’d been using it since high school to get what he wanted. And usually he got it. She knew she was falling into his trap, but he was just so damn cute when he did that! She sighed, hating him for it. “Fine,” she snapped. “One night, one ‘date,’ if you’re even going to call it that. But that’s it. And you’re gonna owe me…”

“Anything; you got it,” Jamie replied with a wide grin. “Thanks, Clairie. You’re the best, you know that?”

She shot him a sarcastic smile and joked, “Yes I am, and don’t you forget it.”

***