Page 58 of Dreaming of Dawson

Dawson looks up from behind the bar, his frown registering his surprise.

“Sorry I’m early,” I say, pulling off my scarf as I go over to him. There are a few customers in here, but they’re all seated at booths, not at the bar, and no-one seems to pay attention to me. They’re all busy with their own conversations… their own lives.

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” he says. “Was I expecting you?” It’s like he doesn’t know, or can’t remember. But that’s probably quite normal for him.

“Yes, and no. I had to collect my aunt’s car…”

“I remember something about that,” he says, interrupting me. “You told me, didn’t you?”

“I did… although I didn’t explain exactly when I was picking it up, or that I’d need to come in early as a result.”

“I’m not complaining.” He smiles at me and I have to smile back. “And at least you won’t have to walk home tonight… not that I’d have let you.”

You’d have to be sober first.

I nod my head, keeping my thoughts to myself. “I’ll take my things out back,” I say. With all these layers on, I’m getting warm already, and I don’t wait for his reply, making my way to the rear of the bar, and into the break room, where I remove my coat and scarf, putting them, my hat, and gloves, and my sweater into the locker, adding my purse. It’s a tight squeeze, but everything fits, and I lock it, putting the key into my pocket before I go back out into the bar.

Dawson’s exactly where I left him, and I wander over, joining him, blushing as his eyes roam a little, up and down my body, before he fixes them on my face.

“I’m just going through to the kitchen for a moment,” he says.

“Okay.”

He goes, leaving me alone, and I glance around, discovering that two of the tables have emptied in my absence. I clear them of glasses, wiping them down, and get back to the bar again at the same time as Dawson.

“You can take your break, if you want,” I say. “I know it’s early, but…”

“I don’t need to take a break today,” he says.

“You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve just asked Karl to fix us both a sandwich before he leaves. I—I thought we could eat together, if that’s okay with you?”

“Eat together? How? We can hardly both go upstairs or into the break room.”

“No, but it’s usually fairly quiet late in the afternoon. We can eat out here, and if someone comes in, I’ll see to them.”

“Are you sure? You don’t wanna go upstairs and have a rest?”

“No. I’d rather stay down here with you.”

I suck in a sharp breath, wondering if that’s the drink talking. Except there’s something about his eyes… they’re sparkling and alive, and different. It’s odd, but if I didn’t know better, I’d be willing to swear he was sober.

Chapter Fourteen

Dawson

I’ve always thought Macy was beautiful. Ever since she first came through my door, looking for work, I’ve recognized her style and grace, not to mention her exquisite figure and perfect face. I was fairly sober when I interviewed her, although not as sober as I am now, and my opinion hasn’t altered. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

There’s something different about her today, though.

And I wonder if that’s because I’m looking at her through my own eyes, not ones that have been blurred by bourbon and vodka.

She seems brighter, even more alluring, and although I wasn’t expecting her to come in early, I’m pleased she did. Just knowing she’s here feels incredible. It’s like this is where she belongs… and I like that. A lot.

Was that why I suggested we should eat together this afternoon? I can’t be sure. It was something that occurred to me when she went into the break room, and I thought about the prospect of going upstairs by myself… and that if she belongs here, then I belong here with her. She was right, though, when she said we can’t both absent ourselves. Not in the middle of the day. Then I remembered Stevie and I used to eat down here and I thought, why not? Why shouldn’t I ask Macy to join me? Did I mean to tell her I’d rather stay down here with her thango upstairs? Probably not. But I liked her reaction. I liked the way she gasped and stared at me, and my only regret is that our moment had to be interrupted… by Maggie and Vanessa leaving for the day.

It didn’t occur to me, until they were all standing around, looking at each other, that they’d never met. Maggie and Vanessa are usually long gone by the time Macy arrives, so I made all the introductions. They seemed to get along okay, although Maggie kept shooting me glances, which was probably because she’d overheard me asking Karl to fix the sandwiches, and I imagined she’d have put two and two together, and made four. Vanessa was busy talking to Ned while I was in the kitchen, and I’m grateful for that. Vanessa’s much more of a gossip than Maggie, so at least my secret is safe for now. Not that I really care about keeping secrets. In fact, I don’t care who knows about my feelings for Macy. It’s just that I’d rather tell Macy about them myself before anyone else does.

---