Desperation of Love (31 page)

“Well, thanks again for your help. I have to grab my book and get out of here. I’m in kind of a rush.” I don’t wait for a reply. I walk out of the hallway and back into the store as quickly as I can. I look at my phone again. Seven nineteen. “I can still make it if I hurry.”

I grab the book for Gemma, pay for it and bolt from the store as quickly as I can. I’m not too far from the restaurant so I opt to walk rather than get my car. With the crowd of people still surrounding the bookstore, I figure it will be quicker by foot. As I make my way to the restaurant, I can’t help but to think of him, the stranger at the bookstore. I didn’t even get his name. I gave him mine but it never even occurred to me to ask for his. No wonder he didn’t ask me for my number, he probably thought I wasn’t interested. I seriously need to work on my flirting skills. What am I even thinking? Flirting skills? Me? I wouldn’t even know how to flirt if I tried. It’s been so long since I’ve even had a date. My life has been filled with nothing more than work, the occasional outing with my best friend, Jordan, and spending time with my family. Men aren’t even on my radar and I’m not sure that I’d ever allow them to be again. Maybe it’s a good thing Hot Stranger didn’t ask for my number. I don’t need anything or anyone messing with my life right now. The life that I’ve worked so hard to get control of again. No, I cannot let anyone destroy my peaceful existence, not even someone who made my knees weak with a simple smile. I enter the restaurant and the hostess escorts me to the small, private room in the back where my family is surely waiting for me.

“Auntie Elle!”

“Hey, Gemma. Happy Birthday, honey!” I say as I hug my niece. “How’s it feel to be 13? You’re officially a teenager now.” Gemma is tall for her age, almost as tall as I am. She has the signature Brooks family brown hair and brown eyes and already knows more about fashion than I do.

“It feels absolutely no different,” she says with a smile. She looks down at the bag in my hand “Whatcha got there?” she asks expectantly.

“What, this?” I ask teasingly. “You want this?”

“Please tell me that’s what I think it is!” she begs.

I can’t help but giggle. “Oh alright, I’ll put you out of your misery. Here you go.”

“Ahhh, thank you so much, Auntie Elle!” she shrieks as she throws her arms around me.

“You’re welcome, honey.”

I walk further into the room greeting some cousins, uncles and aunts until I finally reach my brother, Gavin, and my father. “Hi, Dad. Sorry I’m late,” I say as I kiss his cheek. My father, at first glance, is an intimidating man. At 6’2”, he towers over me. He has the body of a linebacker, well, maybe a retired linebacker, salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. The eyes are what I found to be most intimidating when I was growing up. Of course, now I know that my dad is a big softie at heart but he could aim his eyes at you and glare a certain way that would make even the bravest man cower. I think he perfected that look in his years as a police detective. He retired from the force last year, much to my relief, and has spent most of his time since then traveling.

“It’s okay, kiddo. You haven’t missed anything,”

I turn to my brother and give him a hug. “Hey Gav.”

“Hey, I see you found the book?”

“Yeah, I did. I had to fight my way through a massive crowd of girls waiting to meet some Latin singer but I got it.”

“Well thanks, sis. I’m glad Gemma can count on you for stuff like that.” I smile and give him a nod.

Gavin is as tall as my dad, slender, with brown hair that needed to be cut about two weeks ago but still looks good on him. He is a catch but my brother just doesn’t want to be caught. He has dedicated himself to being the best dad he can be and women are secondary. I guess you can say that he is a bit of a serial dater. I, on the other hand, also don’t want to be caught but I don’t even bother dating.

Gavin is older than me by four years. He was 22 when Gemma was born and completely unprepared to be a father. The girl he had been dating for a little over a year got pregnant and decided that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. I can’t necessarily say that I blame her, having a child at 20 can’t be easy. She tried to convince Gavin that the best option would be to give the baby up for adoption but Gavin would not consent to that. They fought about it for the majority of the pregnancy until near the end when Gavin finally fessed up to Mom and Dad about what was going on. They supported him and together they convinced his girlfriend to sign away her rights to the baby and give Gavin full custody. I’ve always looked up to my brother but the way he fought for Gemma made me completely idolize him. As a family, we all chipped in and helped him to take care of Gemma until Gavin was able to finish college, get a job in a marketing firm and move into his own home with her.

Three hours later, dinner is finally over and the only people left in the restaurant are Dad, Gavin and myself. Gemma sweet-talked her way into a sleep over at a friend’s house. I sit at the table sipping flat cola from a straw. As I stare out the window, my mind goes back to the bookstore, back to those milk chocolate eyes that did something unexplainable to me. It was an unfamiliar feeling. I’m still not sure what to make of it. I can’t, however, deny that it was a good feeling. It had the power to scare me and excite me all at once. I’ve had my share of lovers and relationships but the concept of love is foreign to me. I had thought I’d been in love once but it turned out to be a bad imitation. A relationship which left me so torn and tattered that it took me years to come back from the emotional damage that it caused. Hell, if I’m being honest with myself, I’m still kind of an emotional misfit. Some scars never really heal and because of my newfound need for self-preservation, I’ve constructed a coat of armor so strong that it will never be penetrated. It’s a price I am willing to pay to make sure that I never get hurt again.

“Kiddo, you okay? You look miles away.” I snap out of my daze and turn my head to face my father.

“Yeah Dad, I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long day.” He has a look that says he doesn’t believe me but he lets it go and gives me a small smile.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says to Gavin and I. They both move to get up. I join them but decide that I need a moment alone.

“You guys go on ahead. I have to use the bathroom.”

Gavin, picking up his jacket and putting it on, says, “Are you sure, Elle. We can wait for you?”

“Yes, Gav, I’m sure. I’ll give you both a call tomorrow.” I hug and kiss them both and, as they leave, I head to the bathroom. I walk in, go to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I dry myself off and take a look in the mirror. I barely recognize the reflection. Looking back at me is a woman who is very different from the woman I used to be. Dark hair that used to be blonde, little makeup where there used to be more, conservative clothing where there used to be young trendy fashion. I mean, I don’t look like a nun or anything. I actually look good, but it’s certainly a far departure from what I looked like two years ago. I take one final glance in the mirror and turn to leave the bathroom. It’s definitely about time for this day to come to an end.