It was amazing to be out of the house. Michael would love this. John was all I needed. And these little surprises, like taking me to the art store was so important.
Even with the basket in his hand, he looked very handsome. God, he could fit in anywhere, no matter what. It was obvious, though, he didn’t think so.
John was always calm and cool about everything he did. He smiled at me as I gathered a few more paints. The smell of fresh paint and new paper and glue was sweet to my senses.
As John picked up a few tubes of paint from the basket to examine them, I found eyes staring at us again. Girls wondered if he was someone famous. He just had that face—like he should be on the cover of magazines.
His silent question: I do?
You do, John Slater.
John chuckled. “So, how do you know which ones are the right ones?” he asked, regarding the brushes in the basket.
I shrugged. “I just do, I guess. Besides, they’re all different sizes. I just get what feels right.”
“Good enough for me. So, why do you prefer oil paint? Is it easier to use than acrylic?”
I gazed at him and smiled.
“I’m just curious, Miss Belle, since it’s something you enjoy, I want to learn more about it.”
“It’s easier for me,” I admitted with a grin.
John arched his brow, then nodded. “Some find oil harder to use.”
“I never have.”
“Self-taught?”
I nodded, smiling as I thought about Rachel’s attempt to impress him by learning to paint. John caught the image from my mind. “Looks like Rachel is trying to learn the craft to nab you back, John Slater.”
“Miss Belle, it’s Müller; you’re gonna get me discovered.”
“Does it matter now?” I took hold of his arm.
“I guess not.” He kissed my hand.
“You’re right about Rachel, though. It’s more than your talented artistic skills that have nabbed me to you, Miss Belle.”
After getting everything I needed, John paid, and we headed to the car. We pulled out of the parking lot and drove off.
John reminded me to stay out of his head. “No peeking.”
“I won’t. I promised.”
John grinned as he pulled into a restaurant parking lot. He turned off the engine and turned to face me. “I thought I’d take you out for dinner as well, since you couldn’t meet with dear old dad.”
“But, John, the place is full. There’s a line outside.”
There was a small crowd of patrons; in their hands they held buzzers provided by the restaurant to notify them when their tables were ready.
“Way ahead of you, Miss Belle. I made reservations. We already have a table waiting.” He lifted his phone, revealing a text from the restaurant, notifying us that our table was ready.
John jumped out of the car and helped me out, then led me inside. There was a tank near the hostess’ station filled with lobsters, large and small. Above the tank was a sign, stating the price for lobster was according to weight. There was also a shelf with different wines in perfect view of the patrons eating.
As soon as we stepped up to the station, the hostess showed us to a quiet table in the back. “Your waiter should be out momentarily,” she announced while laying menus on the table.
“Thank you,” John said amiably.
“Enjoy. And happy birthday, miss,” she said.
I glanced over at John as he took a seat in front of me.
“Hey, it got us a table quicker.”
“You told them it’s my birthday?”
“Close to your birthday,” he said.
“This place is nice. Is this the same restaurant you guys came to?”
“Naw, the other place was more for snobs. Besides, you don’t want to run into him there. He frequents those places. He’s the biggest snob alive,” he joked.
I laughed.
“This place is nice, without the snobs, and far more romantic, Miss Belle.”
“So, Michael knew what you planned?”
“Of course, Miss Belle, you think I wouldn’t run this by him? I want him to trust me, even though I can’t tell him most of what I want to.”
I grinned.
The server was a slender, nerdy-looking girl with blonde hair. She put bread and butter in front of us as she stood politely alongside the table. John looked up. She looked flustered when he greeted her with those beautiful green eyes. I wanted to assure her that everyone reacted that way.
“Can I start you guys with something to drink?” she asked courteously.
John gazed at me.
She likes you.
I hadn’t noticed, John answered and winked. It might work in our favor, he joked.
I gave him a cheesy grin and he laughed.
The waitress continued to smile; she did not understand about our private mental conversation.
“What would you like to drink?” the waitress asked me.
I went quiet. The girl was smiling, but I could see she was nervous, standing there and trying not to stare at John.
John noticed my nervousness and scanned the room. A few sets of eyes stared over. He cleared his throat; his cheeks were glowing. “What would you like to drink, Claudia?”
Lemonade. I didn’t have a problem speaking our secret way and grinned.
“Do you have lemonade?” John asked her.
She nodded nervously. “Yes, I can get that for you.”
“Lemonade for the lady, and I’ll have some hot tea please,” John ordered.
Our waitress almost dropped her notepad because her hands were trembling so much. She nodded, and scrawled hastily. “Would you like an appetizer?”
I shook my head.
He smiled. “Do you know what you want, baby?”
The girl blinked as she looked over at me. I realized she was one of those people who readily broadcasted their thoughts. She’s so lucky, she wondered, how did she nail such a hottie?
I laughed to myself.
John was watching me … and blushing.
“I’m not sure.” It was easier to speak to him than the nervous waitress, desperately trying not to ogle my boyfriend.
“Would you like more time?” she asked.
I think he knew it wasn’t a matter of needing more time. Silently, he asked: Would you like me to order for you, Miss Belle?
I nodded and he smiled.
“We’d like to order, if it’s alright.” John grinned at her, then rolled his eyes at me. He must have been eavesdropping on her thoughts through our bond.
She was gushing over his good looks. “Oh sure, of course,” she said, gripping her notepad.
“Please bring her the fried catfish fillets,” he requested politely, and she drew closer, leaning over John’s side to take his order.
A strange feeling came over me. Was I jealous?
No reason to be, Miss Belle. John winked.
The color returned to my face. How naturally he did things so much better than others; he seemed to own the place.
Own the place? He was unfamiliar with the saying.
I giggled, causing the waitress to glance at me quizzically.
God, they’re so sweet and cute together. Her thoughts interrupted my own. I wish I could have that with Bruce. That asshole can’t even remember my birthday. I bet he remembers simple things about her like what her favorite flower is.
Daisies, right? John silently verified.
I smiled, nodding back.
“I’ll have the filet mignon,” he said to our still nervous waitress.
“The eight or ten ounce?”
“Eight is fine.”
“On hers, would she like a baked potato, soup, or French fries?”
John looked at me. “Get her some French fries and make it two instead of four fillets.” he said, smiling.
He knew me so well.
What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t, Miss Belle?
“And for you, sir? The filet mignon comes with two sides.” She bit her lower lip. “Grilled veggies, mashed potatoes, or a baked potato?”
“Grilled veggies and mash potatoes is fine, thank you,” John said.
“Ok, would you like anything else?” she asked politely.
“That’ll be all. Thanks.”
The waitress finished writing down our order as John handed her the menus. She smiled at John as she put the notepad in the little pocket of her apron, but didn’t glance my way before clumsily backing away.
I think that describes me when I’m in your presence, Miss Belle. John grinned.
I doubt that. It was so much easier talking with each other mentally. It was becoming so natural.
Everything is so natural with you, baby.
Could you always … speak mentally to anyone?
John shook his head. No, I can honestly say that I never have. I can’t without you. What did you do to me, Miss Belle? I can only do it with you. I can hear people’s thoughts, too. He wasn’t afraid, just curious.
I’m not sure, Mr. Slater. I watched him closely.
Does it bother you?
No, of course not. It’s just different hearing people’s intimate thoughts. Now, I’m relieved you didn’t come with us to the dinner. That would have been one awkward dinner. The EEP waves of the watch would have gone crazy.
I don’t hear it now.
I lowered the volume.
Can it be read, the watch? I mean, be detected by your employers?
No. John paused. He wanted to reassure me, but I could tell he hadn’t thought about it before.
Are you unsure, John Slater?
John laughed out loud.
Yet I couldn’t help imagine what it might have looked like to those around us. We were talking in our heads, but then one of us would burst into laughter. It had to seem strange to outsiders.
I like it. I don’t care, John reassured me.
We look mad, I joked.
A waiter, holding a tray loaded with several drinks, dropped off two glasses of water at our table. “Your drinks will be out in a moment,” he informed us and walked away.
I looked at John as he took a drink of the water. He rested his elbows on the table and caught me staring.
“What?” He was so clueless about how perfect he was.
I smiled in response and he grinned back beautifully. I wanted to kiss him.
“Does everyone always behave like this around you?” I asked.
“Like what?”
My brow wrinkled.
John chuckled. “Miss Belle, you know I don’t get out much.”
“I’m sure you do,” I argued. “You’re not new to all this, Mr. Müller.”
John reached for my hand and held it tightly.
I glanced around the restaurant. Some patrons were still looking at us. Servers chatting by the bar continued to glance at our table. When they noticed me looking, they averted their gazes. All the eyes on us were making me jealous.
“Hey,” John urged.
He leaned forward in his seat, squeezing my hand. When that still didn’t draw my attention to him, he tapped a fingernail on the table. “What are you looking at?” he asked with the same big grin. He turned, but missed the crew by the bar, because they’d already dispersed.
“Hey, ignore these people. This is our moment, you and I.” He rested his chin on his hand and stared at me.
I looked down.
“I was nothing until I met you. I was just a creature with no emotion or heart. I love what I’ve become with you.” He spoke softly, yet kept that big grin.
God, I loved him.
I love you, too, baby.
“I have so much more planned for you—for both of us—once we leave this world behind,” he smiled.
“John, you are just so full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Our waitress returned with our drinks. She set the hot tea in front of John and the lemonade in front of me. I drank it immediately, hoping it would help cool the embarrassment that had to be glowing red on my face.
She left, stumbling away. I felt her pain, thoughts of her boyfriend and longings of John’s good looks continued to stir in her mind.
“It’s weird, hearing every single person’s thoughts you come across,” he mused.
Our eyes met again as he pushed his tea aside.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Sometimes things just come into my mind without much control. At the start of our day, it was hard concentrating and not seeing the things in your head, because you didn’t want me to.”
“Ah,” he said, smiling. “Has it always been like that?”
“Pretty much. My mother hated it. I had to practice not doing it. After an incident in elementary school, my dad pulled me out of school and began homeschooling me. I did a few months in a private school before I came here to Milton.”
“I didn’t know that. So, Milton’s been the first public school you’ve attend exclusively since you were a child?”
“Yeah,” I answered, taking another drink of the sour-sweet lemonade.
“Wow. What happened?”
“I don’t remember much but, what I can from my father’s scolding, was that I almost hurt someone.” I let myself get momentarily lost in the memory.
It’s alright, Miss Belle, you don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.
No, it’s actually nice to speak to someone … I’ve been holding back a lot. I smiled at him as he reached for my hand again. I remember my father scolding me after school, after the incident. I was only five. I clearly and very distinctly remember him saying that the bad people would find me if I did things like that again … and they would take me away from him.
Bad people? What did he mean?
I shrugged. I never knew. He would never go into detail. As I got older, he hardly spoke about it. I do remember him and Mother talking privately about someone. Not by name, just by reference. It was always, “he will be looking for her” or “he’ll discover her”. I never knew what that meant, but I got the feeling they knew who ‘he’ was …
John was speechless for a moment. Was he trying to figure out my parents?
Just absorbing all this information, Miss Belle. Your parents sound a little cruel. He gripped my hand. You okay?
I only smiled back and nodded.
I hope you don’t think badly of me for saying so?
I don’t. I often tried to understand them, to down-play their cruelty and harsh words, but you’re right. I feel bad for not missing them as much as I should. You think that makes me a bad person?
He squeezed my hand. No, it doesn’t.