"Johnny?"
I looked into the deep brown eyes of the male copy of Olivia Hallindale. His smile perfectly accented his chiseled jawline, and a rogue piece of his dirty blond hair sat on his forehead just above his dominant brow. These Hallidale genes are too pretty, but they made two perfect specimens.
"Hello, Gracie," he greeted me with his smooth style.
"Hey Johnny," I giggled. "Are you here to – You are my date today, aren't you?"
He nodded and pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind his back, "Are you disappointed?" He remembered my favorite flower, white roses with red tips.
"Not at all!" I giggled and took the flowers, "I'm so happy that it is you. I am guaranteed to have a good time today."
"Knowing my sister, she probably made a big deal about it and made it feel almost sinister."
"Hey, you punk," Olivia called out from behind us. "If she found anything sinister, it is because of her pessimistic attitude."
I moved to invite him inside so he could properly greet his twin sister and Dinah. Dinah looked him over with her keen eye before leaning in for the hug. "Seriously, Johnny," she proclaimed, "if you ever want to make a little side money, on top of the 'restoring classic cars' gig, I can make some room for you in my model lineup."
"That is so flattering, Dinah, but I will stick to my cars," he smiled.
"What a waste," she sighed and moved past us to get to her office.
He chuckled but turned to me with an excited twinkle in his eyes, "So, are you ready?" I nodded enthusiastically.
"What do you think?" he motioned to the vehicle, "She is a jet-black Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, recently restored by yours truly." He looked so proud of it and did such a good job; she looked in fabulous condition.
"Johnny, this is lovely," I willingly admire the handiwork.
"Thanks, Grace," he opened the door for me. Once he was settled behind the wheel, he explained, "I found this baby in our dad's salvage lot. Mom said it was the first 'project' car he bought, but the business took off before he could even touch it."
"So, you did it in memory of him."
"Yep. But I fell in love with this baby. I named her Morticia," he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to get the reference.
"Because Morticia Addams' favorite color is black?"
"That-a-girl!" The way Johnny plays right into my strengths always made me smile. Growing up, he went from the pain-in-the-butt brother that would chase me around the playground to the high school superstar that took this uber-nerd to prom. In some ways, my life has always been a bit of a cheesy rom-com, but I can't complain.
"So where are we going," I turned to him as he started the engine.
"I have the whole day planned for us," he explained. "First stop, Printers' Row Art Fest!"
I excitedly clapped and giggled, and he smiled widely. "I have been wanting to go but haven't had the opportunity."
"I figured as much, you've been working really hard lately, and it feels like none of us have seen you in a year," he explained.
"Really?" I cringed. "I am sorry. I just got into my headspace and couldn't get out of the cycle."
"I figured," he sighed, "that dumbass has no idea what he let go of."
"Got that right! I am a Queen," I announced to the world as we got on the highway toward Chicago City Center.
"That you are," he chuckled.
"I'm glad you finally realize that," I teased.
"Whoa, hey! I have always treated you like a queen."
I gave him a pointed side glance, "Always?"
"Okay, Pre-pubescent Me doesn't count. He didn't treat any girl like a queen."
"That's a fair statement," I laughed. "You did get better once we were in high school."
"Thank you!" He threw up his hands in the air.
Before long, we arrived at our destination. People bustled in and out of vendor booths. We saw kids flipping through the pages of my favorite childhood books. Women were filling two or three bags full of paperback adventures, and the men were just as greedy.
The street was wall-to-wall people. Johnny had to grab my hand and pull me through the crowd. He took me up to a vendor table and then dropped my hand so we could sift through buckets of books and magazines. Johnny came prepared with his wallet and one bag for each of us.
"As long as you can fit it in the bag, you can have it."
I looked between him and the streets of multiple vendors selling books. I did that at least twice, then smiled maniacally and whispered, "Challenge accepted."
Once we were satisfied with one vendor, he would pick up my hand and move us to the next one.
"Gracie, what was that one author you are collecting?"
"You mean David Baldacci," I replied.
"Yeah! Do you have a list of what you are missing?"
"Yeah, I'll send it to you." A couple of minutes later, "Hey Johnny, have you read this one? I really think you would like it."
"That's what you said when you tricked me into doing my book report on the Scarlet Pimpernel."
"And did you like it?"
"That's not–"
"Did you like it?"
"Yes," he growled.
"See? I think you might like this one."
We went on like that, flittering from vendor to vendor like a bee pollinating a daisy field. Our conversations revolved around the passing years, silly things his clients have done or asked for, and my crazy stories of work in the fashion industry. Our next stop was lunch at our favorite pizza place. We knew that no self-respecting Chicago native would step foot in a tourist trap like Gino's, which is why we loved it. Watching the tourists enjoy a Chicago Deep Dish for the first time is satisfying. You can learn a little more about different state cultures by how they treat their staff, eat or even talk to each other.
Johnny and I were grateful to be seated in a booth with a perfect view of the many patrons. We ordered our usual "Meaty Legend" pizza and looked around as we waited.
"Where do you think that family's been today?" I asked Johnny.
"Well, if they were smart, they should've been at Navy Pier with that many kids."
I giggled, "That is what I was thinking too." I nearly jumped out of my seat when my phone went off. The ringer was much louder than usual, just in case Johnny and I got separated and he needed to call me.
The tone signaled a text from Olivia. It simply stated, "Woodworth boys have challenged us to Karaoke at the Songbird. You and Johnny should join us." I smirked at the idea and quickly put my phone away. Johnny looked between me and the phone.
"That wouldn't be Mr. Cheesecake, would it?"
I giggled at his nickname, "No, it was your sist– How do you know about Mr. Cheesecake?!"
He shrugged, "I have my sources."
"What did Olivia say?"
He knew he couldn't deny his sources, so he smiled and relented, "She just mentioned that there were some boys around the office, and you ran into one of them on one of these blind dates. I'm starting to think there may be more to that story."
I opened and closed my mouth several times, and thankfully the waiter showed up with our pizza. Johnny and I pretended to be slightly distracted as we readied our plates. I bit into the delicious melted cheese just as Johnny began again.
"Looking back at our time together, I realize I made one mistake in high school," he sighed.
I looked over my meat-piled slice of heaven into those safe, familiar brown eyes. "What was that," I asked after I swallowed my mouth full.
He thought for a brief second before moving to my side of the booth. I was a little too confused to figure out what was going on to react. He had taken the pizza out of my hand as he spoke, "I forgot to tell you that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together."
He kissed me. His lips were pressed firmly against mine. My eyes were wide open as I processed what was happening. I, so badly, wanted to enjoy this moment, but it felt like we were trying too hard to catch something that could have been. I used to pray for a moment like this in high school, but now it was about ten years too late.
He broke the kiss with a sigh, "I think I missed my chance."
"I do love you, Johnny," I tried to reassure him, "but I am not in love with you… not anymore."
"Mr. Cheesecake must really be something special." He returned to his side of the table and acted as if nothing had happened.
"I don't know yet," I replied. I wasn't lying. Mr. Cheesecake was a beautiful idea but did I really know him? "I am taking my time with him."
"I would love to get a look at the guy that made you come out of your shell again."
"Do you mean that?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"You may have a chance tonight if you are up for it." I handed him my phone with the message from his sister. He looked at me with a sly grin and nodded.
"Better warm up those vocal cords," he suggested, "we are about to bring down the house."