Jackson pushes a piece of paper towards her. "How about we do this different, don't tell us, but if I was to give this paper to you would you be able to write what medication I would need for a headache?" She nods with a smile and writes something down before she slides it over. But before Jackson can take it, I pick it up and leave.
I look down at the paper. “What the fuck is Lupus?” I ask myself, never heard of it before.
“Have no idea, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“Yeah, we’re going for dinner tonight. Meet me at seven,” I reply, taking out my phone to call John so he can come get me and take me to the office.
Jackson says, "You know, maybe she's hiding for a reason, and you need to leave her be." If it was the other way around, I would have said the same thing to him.
I sigh and rub my hand over my face. "I can't. I know that I should but I just can't. There's something about her that draws me to her. There's something she's hiding from, and I want to know what it is," I tell him, and he doesn't reply. I mean he knows me, he knows the shit about my past and most importantly he knows that I don't usually give a shit about any woman. So for me to want to know why she's hiding means something. "Want a lift?" I ask him as John pulls up.
“Yeah, still trying to get over the fact that your ice cold heart might still beat,” Jackson says and gets into the car. I peer up at the road that Hope took, wondering where she lives; I mean it can’t be too far from here.
* * *
I was meant to spend my day looking through the pitch my dad told me about, but no, instead I was looking up Lupus and fuck there's a lot of information, so I don't really know exactly what Hope has. But I read up on all of it, just so I have some idea what she's dealing with. I don't have a plan for this evening, talking to her is my main plan, but I don't think that will be so easy.
Once I finally have all the information, I take a quick look at the pitch for Dad, then signed the papers.
I look up as my office door opens. “So did you look at the file?” my dad asks.
"I did, and I signed." I give him the folder; Dad holds his eyes on me for a moment. "Fine, I didn't," I admit, "but you already knew I wouldn't so why have this conversation?" I turn my computer off so I can give Dad my full attention.
He sits down. “I’ll pass it on to the team then. Your mother wants to know if you’re open to this blind date she mentioned last night?” Last night was a long night with them; Dad and this pitch and my mother talking about some woman she thinks would be perfect for me, and she would like to set it up for me.
"I'm going to pass," I tell him. This is not the first time this conversation has happened, and it won't be the last either.
“Leo, if you’re not open to the possibility of meeting someone, how do you know they can see past your inner demons?” Dad asks, and I stare at him for a moment.
“I don’t care if they can’t get past my demons, I just don’t want to talk about it.” I take a deep breath, as just the prospect of thinking about it is making me feel horrible. “And I know that they would have questions, what am I meant to tell them? I won’t tell them the truth that’s for sure.” I check my phone remembering I told Jackson to meet me at the restaurant. He has messaged to say he’s booked a table for us, as they can get busy.
"Son, you can't keep running from it. Maybe when you meet the right person, you'll open up. I'll see you tomorrow." I give him a nod, and he walks out of my office.
There’s no way any woman would understand the shit that happened to me; there’s no way they would be able to look at me and love me. Although that’s not something I crave; love is not something I wantorneed.
* * *
I tell John to come back later to pick me up, and then I make my way into the restaurant to Jackson, while looking around for Hope. I place my coat on the back of the chair.
“She’s here,” Jackson tells me as I sit down, “and I still haven’t seen her face,” he adds.
Looking at the waiter as he places a drink in front of me, I down the whiskey in one go and I tell him I want another. “How was your meeting?” I ask Jackson, checking my phone as it vibrates in my pocket.
"Crap, but clients with money only really have one problem don't they? The wife wants to spend it all." Jackson laughs as I put my phone away. My mother has messaged me about the girl she was talking about last night.
“Don’t worry, that will be you too. I say about three wives for you.” I scan around the restaurant again, to see if I can find her anywhere, but nothing.
"Three? Lucky if there's one. I don't want the hassle of that shit." I turn my attention back to him, and he tells me, "I ordered food, so we didn't have to wait." Then he nods his head for me to look behind me and there she is walking out, with her head down.
I watch her moving from one table to the other, but all I want is to see her face, because if this is how I am reacting now, what the hell am I going to be like when I see her?
I gaze at the couple at the table next to us as they walk away and I glance over at Jackson knowing that she will be over to clean the table.
“Did you find anything about the medication she takes?” he asks.
“There’s so much about Lupus that I couldn’t even pinpoint what she has.” The waiter places our food down.
“Talk to me, what is it about her? You haven’t seen her face, or spoken to her, but…”