Office meetups had never been my thing. Hanging out within the office environment was a burden enough, but at least there I had my role and interacted with others within the boundaries of our duties. Outside of the office though was another thing; there were no handovers, no project deadlines, and no checking up on the progress of tasks. I had to be me and talk about real-life issues.
I did spend a small amount of time outside of work with Kimmie and along with George we had more of a friendly relationship rather than just work colleagues, but it didn't make team get-togethers any easier. Thankfully, Kimmie was talkative as usual and dominated any conversations that were directed at us.
Jamie had already messaged to let me know that he would most likely arrive after the meal as he'd had some trouble getting away from plans that he'd already committed to. His delay, however, worked in my favour as I hadn't been looking forward to all eyes on us as we ate, which was something I was anxious enough about it already.
Why hadn't I thought through the idea of inviting a twenty-year-old to a work meal? I couldn't fathom, but I knew Kimmie's intervention was heavily to blame. She also insisted that having a 'younger man on my arm', as she referred to it, wasn't anything to be embarrassed about and aside from George, who may be invested in the situation for an entirely different reason, nobody would probably bat an eyelid at it.
I couldn't be too sure if that would be the case, aside from her deduction on George and his interest in my apparent date which had me on edge enough as it was.
George had been quieter than usual that evening, which seemed strange as it was his last gathering with the team and was a joint meal for him on the account that he would be leaving. Another thing which gave me anxiety, especially as his disinterest in the whole evening seemed to come about around the same time that Kimmie had decided to bring up the fact that I would have a 'man friend', again a Kimmie term, meeting me.
But then, as much as I hated that she had put me on the spot, I couldn't help but be silently grateful. I not only got the chance to spend the evening with Jamie, but the awkwardness that would have been present had he shown up unexpectedly, had been drowned out by Kimmie's earlier teasing.
Excited post-meal chatter had turned to a lighter talk between smaller groups as people randomly left the seating to take turns on the dancefloor, of which I had managed to bypass what must have been the fifth attempt to get me to join them when I finally saw Jamie standing near the bar. So using my need for a drink top-up as an excuse, I too left the seating area to greet and brief him, before he noticed me and approached our table.
"I'm so glad you could make it," I said as I subconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself in to kiss his cheek.
He too wrapped his arms around me and held me close as he apologised for being late.
"I'm with the group in the mid-right of the room," I said and watched as his eyes took in my workgroup. "If you feel uncomfortable at all just signal me or something and I'll make an excuse for us to leave."
Jamie laughed at that. "I'm sure I'll be fine, Veronica. I'm not a kid, you know?"
"Of course," I quickly answered, realising that I may have come off a little 'momsy' as he had sometimes teased me about. "I just know you get uncomfortable and I don't want you to feel like that because of me."
"As long as you're comfortable, I am." His reply was clear and direct. "Just tell me how you'd like me to play this, and I'm good."
"Play this?" I asked, but before Jamie could respond, Kimmie had already found us and was calling out as she swiftly approached.
"This isn't one of your café dates, you two have to spend the night with us," she said and waved her hand in a quick gesture to the rest of the team members, some of whom were watching, before fixing her gaze on Jamie. "You're hot Jamie, I imagine."
Jamie's smile widened as he shot me a glance, his eyebrows raising slightly before he settled his gaze back on Kimmie.
"Very apt," she added.
"I've never referred to you as that," I said in my defence. It was actually Kimmie who always referred to him in that way although she'd never seen him before then.
"No problem. I think your friend agrees," he said before raising his hand towards her. "You must be brutally truthful Kimmie."
Kimmie gave a light laugh and nodded before shaking Jamie's hand.
"I've never referred to you as that either," I said, directing my statement at Kimmie.
It was a term that Jamie had chosen after I had told him enough stories of the situations Kimmie had gotten herself, and sometimes even me, in due to statements she had made that were perhaps a little too honest.
"It's apt," she said with a shrug of her shoulders and then after gripping hold of my wrist to ensure I followed she announced that she would be taking care of drink refills but would need help carrying them back to the tables.
I mouthed an apology to Jamie who gave a small shrug and followed suit behind Kimmie to the bar.
After settling back at our table, Jamie gave a small introduction to George, who gave his friendliest reply though I could see the scepticism in it, and a few other colleagues who were sitting in our circle and then seamlessly joined in with the group as if he were already one of them.
I see, I thought as I pondered on his earlier statement about how he should play this. Jamie was a showman through and through. I'd seen it in his interactions with Owen and the shopkeeper when he made his bulk purchase of Twinkies. In fact, with everyone I'd seen him interact with he had the same confident man-of-the-hour routine.
Not that he didn't exude confidence whenever we interacted, but his whole showman persona was dampened albeit very slightly, and there were often, even more so in more recent interactions, times when he seemed a lot more vulnerable and innocent than he liked to showcase. It came across in the most subtle of ways, like how his eyes seemed to hold a sadness behind them whenever he let his guard down, and how he sometimes, for no reason seemed so unsure of himself and would try to cover it up with his beautiful grin which that I was noticing looked sometimes out of place. And most prominently, it was in the delicate way he uttered the word 'please', and sounded almost like a child in need of help, and it was probably for that exact reason that I could never refuse him whenever he did.
"Do you think you could help me with the next round of drinks?" I asked Jamie after he combed his fingers through his hair for the fourth time. It wasn't something he did often when we talked, as such I assumed it was an indication of his discomfort which was a shame as it was such a simple yet highly seductive action that made me wish I was the one running my fingers through his hair instead.
"Of course," he answered, his smile tinkering more on the grateful side than simply happy.
"I'm so sorry," I said, as soon as we were out of earshot of any of my work group. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot."
"No problem," Jamie replied with a small laugh. "You seemed just as uncomfortable."
So he was uncomfortable, a realisation that, having him confess didn't make me feel any better.
I slid my arm around his waist and leaned into him in a semi-hug. "You should just tell me. I don't want you to play any parts that you're not comfortable playing," I said before letting out a small laugh. "I don't want to you play any parts at all."
Jamie pulled me in to complete the hug. "If I'm gonna get more of this, it's worth the effort," he said into my ear.
Again a confession that didn't comfort me in the slightest. I wasn't happy knowing that he felt he had to make an effort to receive a reward, which was something he often alluded to in other circumstances.
"Jamie," I said, pulling away to look into his face. "You can do this whenever you want, you don't have to earn it."
Jamie's eyebrows furrowed as they might when a painful memory revisited you, and he stared back, speechless for a moment until he pulled me back close to him and let out a heavy breath. "Thank you," he whispered.
Jamie held me for a good twenty seconds longer before releasing me and taking my hand in his. "We should get those drinks, right?" he said and led me to the bar.
"Jamie," I called softly, as he spoke with the bartender and ordered the drinks. My mind was still focused on the completely torn look that he had given me before our hug. Should I ask him about it?
Jamie turned back to me and his smile softened from the showman smile he was offering to the bartender to what I understood as his more genuine smile. "Everything ok?" he asked.
That's what I wanted to ask you, I mused, but then I guessed the middle of a nightclub wasn't the place to try to get him to open up. I nodded, smiled back and decided the best thing for that moment would be to turn the conversation to something a lot lighter, which also turned into the ideal opportunity to confirm our invitation plans.
"So," I started. "I was thinking you could come around on Friday."
"To your place?"
I nodded again. "Jay will be out for the night, so it will be a perfect first night."
Jamie didn't react for a moment, his dark eyes concealing whatever feeling he may have been experiencing. "First night?" he eventually asked.
"Evening," I rushed. "I just meant our first evening together without having the awkwardness of meeting Jay for the first time. Though I'm sure he won't be awkward he's kind of rooting for you already."
"Really?" he asked with a small chuckle. "But, yeah. Friday will be great, you just caught me off guard."
Jamie reverted to his quieter self after that, I assumed it was on account of me telling him that he didn't need to protect me from the spotlight of my work colleagues and that would be my job. We also agreed that if the opportunity ever came when I met up with his friends he could take full reign as I was sure I would feel somewhat uneasy, which led to another short discussion about whether he would feel strange if I were to hang out with him and his friends, specifically with my age being a possible issue. To which he gave an unequivocal, 'No'. He didn't care what his friends thought about me being an older woman, he was happy with it and that was all he needed to worry about.
By the time we got back to the table, there were a few complaints as we'd taken a little longer than simply getting drinks. Most of the group though didn't seem too bothered by our delay. Some had already taken to the main floor to dance while others had filtered down into even smaller circles which suited me perfectly as I did my best to play my part rather than leave all the spotlight on Jamie.
Jamie still played his role, with each smile, laugh and gesture perfectly rehearsed except for the moments when the others were engrossed in a joke or story that neither he nor I felt a part of. In those moments he would turn to me and whisper his own observations or comments, and the contrast between showman Jamie and my Jamie grew more profound. Up until that night, aside from Owen and the background characters of Noir's, all of our meetings had consisted solely of me and Jamie in our little bubble. He wasn't much different, except that he seemed a lot more natural and relaxed, although I am sure I was the only one who recognised him as much.
Yet another paradox in the person Jamie was; he'd previously told me that he wanted people to see the real him, yet his go-to persona seemed to be concealing exactly that. Was it an instinctual response? I couldn't figure it out, but I jotted it down as yet another question I wanted to put to him when we were alone.
"Hey," Kimmie screamed excitedly. "Penny requested the next three songs for us, so you guys all better get up on the dance floor."
My insides rolled as Kimmie beckoned everyone up to dance.
"I don't dance Kimmie," I said before offering an apologetic smile to Jamie, who just raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"Well, either you dance with Jamie, or I'm going to," she said before tugging Jamie up by his arm.
Jamie shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "Are you gonna let this happen?" he asked.
"I don't dance, Jamie," I argued.
"No offence to Kimmie, but I'd much rather dance with you," Jamie said and reached out to take my hand.
"No offence taken, of course," Kimmie answered but still hadn't let go of Jamie's arm.
"Besides, take a look at the dancefloor," he said before leaning in and whispering. "I don't think anybody will be watching you except for me."
My gaze flickered over to the mass of bodies that swayed and bounced on the dancefloor, and just as Jamie had suggested each person's attention seemed solely on themselves or their dancing partner, which made the blood rush to my face as I imagined Jamie watching me.
"You coming?"
I exhaled a deep breath, and, after Kimmie gave her you-got-the-punchline wink, I accepted.