It took half a moment for her to recollect her wits, and then she was back to business, a bit brisker than a second before. The table next to her got their orders taken, and she was hurrying off to the kitchen before the half-finished thank-you's could quite escape their mouths.
"Juan!" she called, setting the order on the line, "I'm taking a break! Call me when the order's up!"
Juan hollered something back over the sudden hiss of oil on the skillet, and whether it was or not, she took it for allowance and began untying her apron, walking back out of the kitchen with anything but an apologetic smile on her face. She met Gabe halfway across the floor.
"What are you doing here?" she said, low and stern. A woman at a table nearby lifted her finger as if to ask for a refill, but Jess cast her a look, apron halfway off, and the finger went back down.
Gabe waited, feeling a little bit awkward, near the hostess stand. He twirled the daisy between his thumb and forefinger, watched the petals go around and around, and when he looked up again, Jessica was on her way back to him.
Her tone was enough to make him shiver, though he held back the urge. Instead, he held the flower out to her and batted his eyes at her a couple of times. "I'm sorry," he said, simply. He had to resist the urge to add qualifiers - 'I'm sorry you didn't get my joke' and 'I'm sorry you don't like humor' weren't going to help his case any, and he knew that.
And then he pouted, even though he knew that parents were immune to pouting. Matty was better at pouting than Gabe would ever be, darn kid.
Jess pursed her lips, tugging irritatedly at the apron cord at her waist until it came off with a snap. The insufferable idiot! Ugh!
"Come on," she said shortly and, ignoring the flower, latched onto his arm and dragged him as inconspicuously as possible (not very, admittedly), to the kitchen, past the quired eyebrows of the cooks and busers with their arms full of dishes, and outside to the break room. It wasn't much of a room, being outside, and didn't offer much rest or relaxation; but as it was in the open air, the waitstaff could smoke, and that was just as good for most of them. Jess dropped Gabe's arm to wrap both hers around herself, shivering but still as sharp as ever. "You already said that." Because, of course, understanding was Jess' strong suit.
See, the thing was, Gabe knew just what to do with women! He knew exactly how they liked to be treated, knew how to be sweet and charming and bring flowers and give them compliments and open doors and everything. So, he pulled his jacket off once he was outside and pulled it around Jessica's shoulders to keep her warm while they talked.
"Well," he paused. "I meant it," he finally said. "You look very nice today," he added.
Well, what else could he do? He apologized! Twice! "So don't be mad at me," he continued. "I said I was sorry. I didn't know it was going to upset you, it was only a little joke."
Chivalry. How nice. At least, it would have been were Jess not jaded to the point of absurdity. But she tacitly accepted the coat, arms still crossed over her chest, and gave herself a moment to cool down. So to speak.
These were the times she wished she still smoked. What she wouldn't give for a cigarette. "Don't bother with the compliments," she said finally. "It's fine." Sort of. "You didn't know."
Not that he really could. Because, hey, dead husbands?? Lawsuits? Marriage being a touchy subject? Not exactly prime dinner conversation.
Well, that was a little bit better, though Gabe would've preferred a hug or something. Still, he gave a smile. "Well, I won't get fake married again," he finally said. "You're a tricky girl to figure out, Jessica."
He'd meant it, when he'd written that she was driving him insane. No one else was as difficult as she was. Gabe was used to things being easy - it was practically what defined his existence.
"You know, you can talk to me about stuff," he finally said. "I mean, like the stuff you said in the Compendium."
"Rather be tricky than simple," she said, shrugging. She'd learned pretty quickly after her grandfather died that being terribly simple was just a bad idea all around; all that heart on your sleeve stuff only worked if you didn't have things to hide. Which, naturally, she always had.
And then she scoffed, and gave her first smile of the night. It was barely there, watery and tremulous, more wry curve of her lips than a real smile--but it was better than steely coldness. Oh, well. She'd given it her best shot. "You don't want to hear about that stuff." Another hitch of her shoulders. "Turn your hair gray."
"I'd say more 'playing hard-to-get' than tricky, actually," Gabe told her, matter-of-factly. His eyes brightened a bit when she smiled at him. That was what he liked to see. He scoffed a little bit, shaking his head.
"Would it be an Anderson Cooper gray?" he asked, eyebrows raising with interest. "That might be an intriguing look for me. Silver curls. What do you think?" His smile only widened, almost reaching Cheshire Cat - proportions.
Jess scoffed, halfway between a laugh and a sigh, and her hand was on her head before she realized it. It was a pretty familiar path from forehead to scalp, unfortunately. Her mouth flattened and curved at the same time, an awkward lopsided grin that was more disbelieving than anything. Some guys never quit.
"I'm not really possible to 'get,' Gabe," she said, giving him a half-hearted smile and consolatory pat on the arm. Then she was taking off the coat and folding it up, handing it back. "And I think my break's over."
"Certainly not impossible," Gabe said, his smile not fading. "Improbably, perhaps." It struck Gabe as strange, someone being so difficult. He wasn't used to it. Most people found him exceedingly charming. He didn't mean to be over-assured, but he sort of was.
"I'll see you later, Jessica," he told her; Gabe leaned over and down a bit, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, just over her forehead. "Have a good night. Tell Matty I said hello."
"Impossible," she said again, shaking her head. But it was hard to deny someone so damn optimistic; a bewildered little grin came through.
She accepted the kiss with far more grace than she accepted most things (Heaven only knew why, being as cantankerous as she often was) and led him back out to the entrance of the kitchen. He could find his way out from there. A sharp look at the waitstaff nearby quelled the smirks brought about by Gabe's unquashable grin--no, guys, nothing had happened, thanks--and she was tossing her apron back around her waist.
The daisy was still in her hand. Huh. She grabbed one of the cocktal glasses on her way out to the floor, filled it with water from one of the taps behind the bar, and tossed the flower in. Flowers. Strange, that.
It took half a moment for her to recollect her wits, and then she was back to business, a bit brisker than a second before. The table next to her got their orders taken, and she was hurrying off to the kitchen before the half-finished thank-you's could quite escape their mouths.
"Juan!" she called, setting the order on the line, "I'm taking a break! Call me when the order's up!"
Juan hollered something back over the sudden hiss of oil on the skillet, and whether it was or not, she took it for allowance and began untying her apron, walking back out of the kitchen with anything but an apologetic smile on her face. She met Gabe halfway across the floor.
"What are you doing here?" she said, low and stern. A woman at a table nearby lifted her finger as if to ask for a refill, but Jess cast her a look, apron halfway off, and the finger went back down.
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Her tone was enough to make him shiver, though he held back the urge. Instead, he held the flower out to her and batted his eyes at her a couple of times. "I'm sorry," he said, simply. He had to resist the urge to add qualifiers - 'I'm sorry you didn't get my joke' and 'I'm sorry you don't like humor' weren't going to help his case any, and he knew that.
And then he pouted, even though he knew that parents were immune to pouting. Matty was better at pouting than Gabe would ever be, darn kid.
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Jess pursed her lips, tugging irritatedly at the apron cord at her waist until it came off with a snap. The insufferable idiot! Ugh!
"Come on," she said shortly and, ignoring the flower, latched onto his arm and dragged him as inconspicuously as possible (not very, admittedly), to the kitchen, past the quired eyebrows of the cooks and busers with their arms full of dishes, and outside to the break room. It wasn't much of a room, being outside, and didn't offer much rest or relaxation; but as it was in the open air, the waitstaff could smoke, and that was just as good for most of them. Jess dropped Gabe's arm to wrap both hers around herself, shivering but still as sharp as ever. "You already said that." Because, of course, understanding was Jess' strong suit.
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"Well," he paused. "I meant it," he finally said. "You look very nice today," he added.
Well, what else could he do? He apologized! Twice! "So don't be mad at me," he continued. "I said I was sorry. I didn't know it was going to upset you, it was only a little joke."
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Chivalry. How nice. At least, it would have been were Jess not jaded to the point of absurdity. But she tacitly accepted the coat, arms still crossed over her chest, and gave herself a moment to cool down. So to speak.
These were the times she wished she still smoked. What she wouldn't give for a cigarette. "Don't bother with the compliments," she said finally. "It's fine." Sort of. "You didn't know."
Not that he really could. Because, hey, dead husbands?? Lawsuits? Marriage being a touchy subject? Not exactly prime dinner conversation.
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He'd meant it, when he'd written that she was driving him insane. No one else was as difficult as she was. Gabe was used to things being easy - it was practically what defined his existence.
"You know, you can talk to me about stuff," he finally said. "I mean, like the stuff you said in the Compendium."
Reply
"Rather be tricky than simple," she said, shrugging. She'd learned pretty quickly after her grandfather died that being terribly simple was just a bad idea all around; all that heart on your sleeve stuff only worked if you didn't have things to hide. Which, naturally, she always had.
And then she scoffed, and gave her first smile of the night. It was barely there, watery and tremulous, more wry curve of her lips than a real smile--but it was better than steely coldness. Oh, well. She'd given it her best shot. "You don't want to hear about that stuff." Another hitch of her shoulders. "Turn your hair gray."
Reply
"Would it be an Anderson Cooper gray?" he asked, eyebrows raising with interest. "That might be an intriguing look for me. Silver curls. What do you think?" His smile only widened, almost reaching Cheshire Cat - proportions.
Reply
Jess scoffed, halfway between a laugh and a sigh, and her hand was on her head before she realized it. It was a pretty familiar path from forehead to scalp, unfortunately. Her mouth flattened and curved at the same time, an awkward lopsided grin that was more disbelieving than anything. Some guys never quit.
"I'm not really possible to 'get,' Gabe," she said, giving him a half-hearted smile and consolatory pat on the arm. Then she was taking off the coat and folding it up, handing it back. "And I think my break's over."
Reply
"I'll see you later, Jessica," he told her; Gabe leaned over and down a bit, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, just over her forehead. "Have a good night. Tell Matty I said hello."
Reply
"Impossible," she said again, shaking her head. But it was hard to deny someone so damn optimistic; a bewildered little grin came through.
She accepted the kiss with far more grace than she accepted most things (Heaven only knew why, being as cantankerous as she often was) and led him back out to the entrance of the kitchen. He could find his way out from there. A sharp look at the waitstaff nearby quelled the smirks brought about by Gabe's unquashable grin--no, guys, nothing had happened, thanks--and she was tossing her apron back around her waist.
The daisy was still in her hand. Huh. She grabbed one of the cocktal glasses on her way out to the floor, filled it with water from one of the taps behind the bar, and tossed the flower in. Flowers. Strange, that.
Reply
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