long moment went by and then he grunted. It wasn’t a laugh, but a sound that told her he didn’t believe her for a New York minute.
“And what are you going to do in your new career?”
“Now who’s asking a lot of questions?” She paused. “Anyway, I haven’t decided where to go yet. I’m looking at someplace close to the ocean. I’ve always liked the sea. I feel calm there. In the meantime, maybe I could work for you. Of course, it would be temporary.”
“And why do you think I need someone to work for me?”
The waiter interrupted them with their meals. When he left, Lauren returned to the conversation.
“Because you’re in pain and I know something about pain.”
“How do you know I’m in pain?”
“By the way you’re holding your shoulder.” At that he shifted, but didn’t truly relax. “And by the way you clench your teeth until it eases.”
She picked up her fork and took a bite of the seafood fettuccine she’d ordered. Closing her eyes at how wonderful it tasted, Lauren savored the pasta and sauce. She didn’t often cook her meals with all fresh ingredients. She didn’t have time. She remembered visiting her sisters and her parents. They always had catch-up and cook time in the kitchen. The five of them would catch up on what was happening in their lives while they made a meal. Their mom would plan the menu and each sister would choose what she wanted to make. It was a female bonding time that was fun and delicious. Lauren missed those days.
“Are you a therapist?” He nearly spit the word. The expression on his face was crafty.
“A massage therapist? Not technically, no. But I’ve done my share of working with someone in pain.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled to show she knew what she was talking about.
“Don’t bother. I’m fine. I don’t need any kind of therapist,” he said, again with a disdainful tone.
“I can see you’re in pain, but” Lauren raised and dropped her shoulders, leaving her statement open.
Jake said nothing. His silence made her only want to try harder.
“So, what do you do, Jake?”
He didn’t immediately answer. “I’m between careers at the moment.”
“I see,” she said, knowing even with his dry method of speaking, he was mocking her. “I suppose in your last career you were a bouncer.”
“What?”
“Someone who knocks people down on the street.” Lauren wondered if he ever smiled. So far he’d scowled, winced and grimaced, but showed no positive emotion at all. He looked angry, something his brother had failed to tell her. Lauren had kept an image of him as the happy college student. But they were no longer in college and she was no longer Lori Graves. She was thirty-one and he was either thirty-three or thirty-four.
“That isn’t it,” he said.
She decided not to pursue it any further. Lauren was new to this pretend game and she didn’t want to show her hand or let him discover that she’d been hired by his brother. She was naturally shy and nervous at all the talking she was having to do.
They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the excellent food. When the waiter brought the check, Lauren quickly took it. Without glancing at it, she handed him her credit card and he walked away.
“Not only pushy, but aggressive,” Jake said.
“I said I’d pay for the coffee. The food came with it.” She smiled again, hoping he’d reciprocate. She was disappointed.
The other diners finished and left the restaurant. Only she and Jake remained with the staff, who’d all but disappeared. Jake slid out of the booth. Lauren stood, still on one heel. When she saw that Jake was in pain, she placed her hand on his right arm. He stopped immediately, facing her.
“Let me help,” she said in the same voice she always used with a crying child.
She didn’t wait for his approval. In fact, she expected him to refuse. She began moving her hand along the length of his arm. With her thumb and forefinger, she worked long, steady strokes against his muscles, smoothly caressing them with both the heat and shape of her hands. It would be better if his arm was bare, but this would have to do, she thought.
Jake stiffened at her initial touch, but he relaxed as she added pressure from his shoulder to his wrist. Then using both hands, she pushed him into a seat. He didn’t resist. Lauren found points where she assumed the pain was intense. Her fingers lingered there and she added releasing pressure to ease those tissues. His right arm was thinner than the left, indicating that he hadn’t used it in a while and had not been exercising it according to any competent therapist’s routine. She finished her impromptu massage, the entire procedure taking no more than five minutes. Stepping back, she stumbled, forgetting about her heelless shoe. With flailing hands she caught the table and steadied herself.
“Are you all right?” Jake asked whipping around, his good arm extended but couldn’t have reached her in time.
“Fine.” She smiled. “But I better put on those new shoes before I break an ankle.” Reseating herself, she pulled a shoe box from one of the bags and exchanged her broken heels for a pair of flat-sole shoes. When she stood, she was noticeably shorter than he was.
Outside, Lauren looked in the direction of the subway that would take her back to Brooklyn. She turned to Jake.
“Well, Jake Masters, thank you for the company. Consider the debt paid in full.” She offered him her left hand. He took it and shook. Lauren wasn’t sure, but she almost got a smile, at least the shadow of one at the edge of his mouth.
“It was interesting,” he said, still in a formal tone.
Lauren felt like she should stand up straight and salute. She didn’t know what his comment meant and decided not to find out if it was positive or negative.
“Well, Lauren Peterson, good luck with your new career.”
Lauren opened her purse and pulled out a card. It had her name and a phone number on it. Handing it to Jake, she said, “Just in case you want someone to help alleviate the pain.”
“Temporarily?”
She heard the sarcasm in his voice.
“True, so you’d better act fast or that number will be disconnected.”
JAKE WAS SPEECHLESS. He hadn’t been whirl-winded by a woman sincenever? Had it ever happened? He couldn’t remember. As he watched Lauren Peterson walking away, Jake wondered what had just happened. Who was she? She looked slightly familiar, but he was sure he didn’t know her, didn’t know anyone like her. Someone who could be both klutzy and aggressive at the same time. Women usually flocked to him. At least they had before Jake stopped the thought. He wouldn’t go there.
Since the accident, most people tried to ignore his arm. They didn’t
