Page 9 of Love & Other Disasters

Three

The rooftop lounge was amazing, but it didn’t mean Violet should be there. Although the Nashville skyline lit up was worth it. She gazed over the black railings and the planters of greenery, the “Batman Building” towered above them. On one side, the lights of the downtown buildings glowed like a barrage of manmade stars. On the other side, the darkened Cumberland River flowed in its banks through the city to its destination. A smattering of people hurried along on the sidewalk below, but the crowds and music from Broadway a few streets over did not carry this far.

Frat Guy handed her a white wine and held a glass of dark colored liquor for himself. He’d lost the battle to pay for dinner and now seemed intent on showing that he too had money to spend.

“Thanks,” she said. “If you move here, you won’t be alone. There are more transplants here than natives.” Violet didn’t take her eyes off the skyline.

“Is it a requirement to like country music?” he quipped.

“It’s hard to believe from where we’re standing, but there’s a wide range of musical styles made here. It’s far more eclectic than many people realize.”

“Good to know, guess with the influx of transplants in recent years,” he said.

“That’s a misconception, it’s been that way for a long time,” Violet said, then sipped. “When I was a kid, a group of Laotian immigrants moved to the neighborhood. I would talk to one of the kids at school, and they’d begin stories of ‘when we escaped from my country,’ and that blew my mind at first.”

“Wow,” J.P. replied.

“One reason I’ve never left is the people from a wide number of cultures here. I enjoy all the foods too, there’s so many great cuisines out there. Atlanta is culturally diverse, too. And you’ve been there…”

“Two years now. And I agree, food is an entry point to learning about other cultures,” he said, leaning against the railing beside her. Violet still hadn’t made eye contact, avoiding his attempts to catch her eye like the plague. “I hope I get the job, there’s a lot to look forward to.”

“It’s not a boring place.” Why talk it up? Since she needed to keep this guy away, she should say terrible things, then maybe he wouldn’t take the job.

“The other day while stopped in traffic on a little two-lane road and a chicken walked past me on the side of the road.”

“A chicken?” he chuckled. “What did you do?”

“She was obeying the laws of pedestrian traffic, so I let her go about her business.”

He laughed, “What choice did you have?”

“Let’s face it, she was making better time than me. I was a little jealous.” Violet turned away from the railing and the views of downtown sprawled around them. In doing so, looked into J.P.’s cobalt blue eyes, crinkled at the corners, and sparkling in the lights overhead. Her breath hitched in her throat. Crap, she’d been avoiding making any genuine connection.

“I assume you have family here?” J.P. asked.

“Yep,” she scanned the lounge. Her family was a loaded topic that she wouldn’t dare talk about with J.P. The rooftop had a bar anchoring the center, surrounded by areas that served a mixture of functions—a dancefloor, an area with high top tables, and then a variety of seating arrangements in chairs and couches. They’d strung twinkle lights overhead from the bar out to poles sticking out of the railing.

Elle waved at them from across the room and pointed to a seating arrangement they’d found. Violet headed toward them noting Frat Guy’s hand on the small of her back, the warmth radiating through her dress.

When Elle waived at them, J.P. inwardly groaned. They made their way over to where his buddy and Elle cuddled up on one of the outdoor loveseats. As they crossed the room, J.P.’s hand came to rest on the small of Katia’s back. He couldn’t help it, she intrigued him. The Universe had aligned itself in his favor, and the few minutes he had alone with her weren’t enough.

Their choice in seating was another loveseat opposite Brent and Elle or two single chairs on each end. To his relief and delight Katia chose the loveseat. The furniture was durable for obvious reasons, but he found it comfortable as he sank next to her. He stayed on his side of the seat, since he couldn’t get a read on her interest in him. If she leaned in his direction him, he’d count it as a positive sign.

“Impressive views from up here,” Brent said.

“That’s what all the marketing says,” he replied. “And they sold me.”

“It’s lovely up here,” Katia said.

“Yes,” he agreed, but he wasn’t talking about the skyline or the twinkle lights. “They say in the winter they put glass igloos up around all of the seating so the space is still usable.”

“Oh, that sounds like so much fun,” she said and sipped the Sauvignon Blanc.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Yes, very.” She swirled the liquid around her wine glass and held it to her nose it. “Good nose.”

“A wine connoisseur?”

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