Plain Jane

Tattoo's and Assault Charges

The next day I woke up with Darren's heavy head on my shoulder and the blanket entirely on him.

"Darren you blanket hog!" I yelled, pushing him off of me and grabbing it back from him. He groaned in his sleep, a little drool escaping from his mouth, and my lips curled in disdain, but as soon as I got up and saw my reflection in the mirror my disdain turned into outright horror.

My red hair was matted and all over the place in stringy pieces and mycheek had a smear of lip gloss across it. My grey eyes looked crazy and my shirt and pencil skirt from yesterday were astray. I looked down at the one thing I knew would be perfect, because I always made sure they were, my nails and toenails. I had small feet and hands and I had a thing for nail polish and clean hands and clean feet so I always had them painted or done, and they always matched each other. This week they were an eggshell blue and I wiggled them, trying to think about the many things I had to do today, Saturday was always my busiest day, in fact it was always New York's busiest day.

I had to go grocery shopping for Darren and I, I had a lunch date with my mother and I was expected to go out tonight with Darren and Lacy at the new club Blackout in downtown New York. I sighed, turning on the hot water in my shower and stepping in, using my favorite peach mango scrub to make my skin smell good.

I stepped out, blowdrying and straightening my curly red hair to perfection, putting on some mint flavored chap stick, so all the guys I wouldn't kiss today could taste it, and throwing on a tight, white, lace dress that flared out at the knees and matching it with red open toe wedges. I admired my appearance, ignoring the fact that it took me three and a half hours to look like this and now I had to rush through shopping for the apartment just to make it to lunch on time.

I grabbed a black clutch and my phone, typing out a quick message to my mother reminding her of our lunch date, she had a habit of forgetting things. I walked towards the front door, calling out a goodbye to a still sleeping Darren, and shutting the door to the apartment.

.....

"Taxi!" I yell. None of them stop for me, just like usual. The New York sky was bright blue, and the only sign of the horrible storm yesterday was the wet sidewalks, and the giant puddles that I carefully avoided.

I continued my trek walking down the street, hoping to find a waiting taxi to steal off the curb. I looked around at my surroundings, my heart jumping at every sleek black car I saw.

There was no way I would ever see Ryan again, that was just a coincidence last night. I bumped into a body, causing them to spill their coffee on the front of their shirt. I mumble through an apology, reaching into my clutch to pretend I was looking for a napkin.

"Sorry I don't-" I start to say, but the man cuts me off. "You don't have a napkin huh?" He asks.

"No, sorry." I answer.

He starts laughing, but it looks like he's about to punch a wall. "I've been in New York two days and three people have bumped into me, pretending to look for napkins, then apologizing and hurrying down the street. What is it with you inconsiderate bitches these days?" He asks dryly.

"Excuse me?" I ask, my eyebrow raising.

"Yeah you walk down the street, not paying attention to your surroundings and acting as if you're the only damn one on this whole island but you're not. If you didn't notice." He snaps.

"I did notice actually, maybe if you didn't stand at a complete standstill in the middle of the sidewalk people wouldn't bump into you!" I throw my hands up.

"Maybe if you watched where you were walking I would be okay to stand here." He fumes. We glare at each other for a full five seconds, both of our chests heaving up and down.

"Look would you like me to buy you a new coffee?" I ask finally. He loosens his tie and nods. "I think its needed."

"There's a coffee shop right up the street, follow me." I say, walking ahead of him. He matches my pace easily and within minutes were inside the chilly coffee shop.

"Black with two sugars." He says.

I scoff, "How boring."

"Well I'm sorry what would you like me to order?" He snaps. I walk over to the counter, tapping my eggshell colored nails on the glass counter, looking thoughtfully at the menu. "How about we both have a nonfat strawberry milkshake with sugar free whipped cream and one teaspoon of caramel." I ask the girl behind the counter. She nods writing it all down and walking towards the back to fill the order, I wasn't feeling coffee anyways.

"Looks like you really went crazy on the sugar here huh? What a dangerous move with the one teaspoon of caramel." He says sarcastically.

I look up at him for the first time, taking in his appearance. He has disheveled hair that looks like he just put a hand through it and left it like that, his eyes are vibrant and blue and had look to them, like he's constantly outspoken but has so much to say, and he has muscles that peek out of his tailored business suit.

He looks like a classic New York business man, but his frown lines do nothing for his face which has dimples every time he talks and slight stubble underneath his chin.

"I'm sorry Mr. Tourist, this is how we do it in the Big Apple. Sugar is a no, and it looks like you rarely have any with the muscles on your arms." I comment. His eyebrow shoots up with amusement and the coffee girl comes back with our order. I pay her and the man grabs my wrist lightly, leading me over to a corner of the shop.

"Want to see something not many people get to see in their lives?" He asks.

"Look I'm not into seeing your junk or any of that, I just want to take my milkshake and get on." I reply, backing away slightly.

"No, God, for a red head you sure act like a blonde." He remarks and I glare at him. He puts his drink on a nearby table and takes off his tuxedo jacket, leaving only his white dress shirt. Then slowly he unbuttons it, exposing his very muscular arms, which are covered in intricate tattoos.

Wait what?

"Wow." I breathe. That's hot. Like really hot. He's now only exposed in a white wife beater that shows off both arms, which are covered in sleeves of tattoos so that you couldn't see any of his skin. There were bright red tattoos, blue tattoos, black ones, big ones, small ones. I couldn't even make out what half of them actually were. I was at a loss for words, why did he have to go and do this now I would be a nervous wreck like I always am around cute guys. But this guy was hot, like Ryan James hot.

There you go letting that wretched man invade your thoughts, especially when your in the presence of a secret bad boy in a business man costume. "That's really- that's pretty- g-g-great." I stutter as he puts his tuxedo back on.

"Yeah well you noticed my muscles instead of my expensive Armani suit, so I figured you deserve to see something else ya know?" He smiles a toothy grin, and I stare at his deep dimples that adorned both sides of his cheeks.

"Well I got to go, now I'm late to a lunch date and I don't have time to go grocery shopping." I sigh, turning around to walk out of the shop. I look out the window and lock eyes with a passing man in a grey suit, his dark eyes bring back memories from last night and I realize who it is.

Ryan James.

The rest of the people passing by are blurred out and I can't hear anything but my beating heart and I can't see anything but him.

But the tattooted man interrupts me by pulling on my arm and I'm yanked back to reality like a cold glass of water being poured on my head.

"Wait, would you like to go to dinner tonight?" He asks.

I look up at him, not processing his words, my mind still on Ryan. "Yeah- well no I can't not tonight but tomorrow sounds good. Wait what's your name?" I ask, the words coming out in a jumble.

He laughs and I smile, even though I don't know what he's laughing at. "My name is Cayden, here I'll put my number in your phone." He says, grabbing my phone and typing in his contact information.

"Thanks, I'll catch you around." I respond robotically, walking out of the shop, Ryan nowhere to be seen.

.....

Th lunch with my mother flew by, the usual questions pertaining to my love life and if I was a lesbian, which she assured me was perfectly fine as long as I gave her grand-babies.

I asked the usual questions about dad and she lied her way through them, even though I knew she was lying I didn't have the heart to tell her I knew his cancer was getting worse. As soon as I saw her identical grey eyes start to flood with tears I changed the subject, hoping I hadn't ruined her whole day, she hated the word cancer.

I had inherited much of my looks from my mom and most of my personality from my dad. My mom and I had identical eyes and red hair, and the same dainty body type, my dad was always calm and quiet and he had grown out of his nervous stage, unlike me. He said when he met my mom he almost threw up and he couldn't speak coherent sentences, that's how he knew he was in love with her.

I bid goodbye to her, assuring her that I was not a lesbian and that I was not in a relationship and would not be bringing someone home anytime, much to her sadness.

I walked out the doors to the small restaurant, the bell dinging behind me, and quickly made my way to an idling taxi on the curb. This was New York, we steal other people's taxis all the time, so you should probably hurry if you called a taxi ahead of time. I smile at the driver just as a very pissed off woman comes out of her building, watching me pull away from the curb in the taxi she called.

"Take me to the nearest grocery store please." I ask.

"N' problem ma'am." He replies, taking a drag out of his cigarette. I wrinkle my nose in disgust, closing the seal between us. We drive in silence, the only sound heard is the honking cars around us. In New York everything is always moving so fast, constantly having somewhere to go and be, never a dull moment.

That's the thing I love most about the city, you're never alone, and even though sometimes that's a bad thing, I love it. I relish in it.

That is until I stop outside an upscale grocery store in Upper Manhattan twenty minutes later and see Ryan wheeling a cart inside. My stomach does an angry flip and I turn around to tell the driver to keep driving but he's talking on the phone.

He hangs up. "Can you take me a little further to the next one?" I ask, even though I don't have time.

"No, now get out." He says. I roll my eyes at him and hand him the excessive amount of money, walking slowly towards the carts. A man hands me one and I walk even slower, trying to figure out the opposite way to go, so I wouldn't run into him. I mean it was a big store right?

It almost works, I don't see him the entire time and I start to relax as I get to the last thing on my list: meat. Darren has this thing of using a different meat every time we eat. It gets exhausting fetching it for him, but it always taste good so I don't complain, much.

But the first sight I see at the meat buying station is Ryan, of course. I look at the time on my phone, hoping I had enough to walk around the store once more and come back but I didn't I had to buy this now and get out so I could go get ready for tonight. I started to nervously walk towards where Ryan was standing, but my phone buzzed, a welcome distraction.

So was I supposed to wait 24 hrs till I texted you? Because I couldn't wait.

-C

I stare at the unknown number for a minute before I finally realize its Cadyen. I type a quick response and send it: Yes, but I guess I should have expected a surprise from an undercover business man (;

I looked up, and started pushing my cart, only to ram right into his. I bite my lip nervously, focusing my eyes down on his shoes.

"Maybe you should pay attention instead of texting every man in New York." He snaps.

"I was only texting one man, thank you for your concern." I snap, still not meeting his eyes.

"Why won't you look in my eyes? Afraid I have too much of a hold on you already, Red?" He teases.

I look up into his dark eyes, instantly regretting it, but I won't show him he has a effect on me, well I'll try. "No." I answer. "And my name is Jane, I told you yesterday." I snap, I hated when people called me Red.

"And my name is Ryan, what's the difference?" He asks.

"I didn't call you another name." I answer, and my phone buzzes again so I unlock it quickly reading the message, not caring he was right in front of me.

Dinner tomorrow at the Pina Gras? -C

Sure, but isn't that a little expensive for a tourist? (; -J

His reply comes instantly.

J? Now I'm curious what is your name Red? -C

I ignore the fact that he called me Red, because he doesn't know my name so just this once, I allow it.

Jane. Now, I have things to do and places to be so I'll think of a clever nickname to call you later. (; -J

"So he can call you Red huh?" Ryan asks angrily, reading over my shoulder. I jump, shoving my cart away from me and putting both hands on his chest and shoving him away also.

"Why don't you mind your own business Mr. James." I snap, grabbing my cart roughly and starting to push it away.

"Well whoever this C guy is, you seem to like him. He's probably a self proclaimed murderer." Ryan laughs at his own joke, pushing his cart in the same direction as mine.

"That's not even a thing." I sigh.

"Well I bet I'm way better looking than him, but that's just me." He says absentmindedly.

I have to hold myself back from agreeing with him. I mean Cayden had tattoos and a beautiful body but so did Ryan, minus any tattoos that I know about, and there was just something about Ryan that Cayden didn't have and I didn't even know Cayden, but Ryan was... Ryan.

"Agree with me, you know you want to." Ryan says, arrogance in his voice.

"I just want to get my meat and leave." I sigh.

"I could help you with that." Ryan laughs and I look at him confused, then what he just said dawns on me and I feel my face heat up. "Well actually I don't know if I could help you with that because in order for me to help you, I have to be attracted to you, and that's obviously not the case, so disregard my statement." He smirks, and I try to fake a smile but I can feel the tears building up as my self confidence comes crumbling down. To be called ugly by the hottest guy I've ever seen is probably the most embarrassing thing I've ever experienced.

No, being cheated on is the first, but this comes in at a close second. I blink back the tears and walk faster pushing my cart further and further so that he couldn't see the tears brimming. This was a bad idea, I could have just gone shopping another day, we could have ordered pizza or Chinese. I blink faster and faster, willing the tears to not fall, my mascara would be completely ruined. I hear fast approaching footsteps and I stop abruptly, waiting for his fast apologies and trying to make me not cry, just like all guys.

But I guess I didn't realize that this was Ryan James and all he really wanted to do was hand me back my bracelet and tear my confidence down a little more, completely destroying it. "Your dress does nothing for your figure, you should get a personal stylist, your hair looks frizzy." He says, and I look down at my shoes, the tears freely falling. Who says that?

I bring me head up to stare at him in his eyes, glaring, and I rear my hand back, letting it fly towards his face, and as it comes in contact with his skin it seems like it burns my entire palm.

He doesn't even flinch and his already towering frame seems to loom over me and my short frame seems to shrink back. "You're going to regret that." He says angrily. I was afraid he was going to hit me but instead he grabs my cart roughly shoving it towards the cashier, waiting impatiently for them to ring everything up, then just as I start to grab my credit card, his is already being ran through the card machine and he has payed for it all. I look at him in amusement and confusion, and his jaw is clenched tight his eyes shooting fire. He grabs the bags on his arms and walks out the door, as I try to catch up with his long strides.

"What do you think you're doing?" I yell.

"Taking these to my car." He answers.

"Why?" I get angrier.

"Because you are going to cook me dinner tonight." He says simply.

"You must be out of your damn mind." I laugh sarcastically, my sarcasm turning into huge gaping fits of laughter.

He slams his trunk door, striding towards me, his jaw set even harder. "You will or I'll sue you." He snaps.

"For what?" I ask, meeting his eyes.

"Assault." He smirks.

"You wouldn't." I say defiantly.

"Oh really?" He pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen a couple of times then holding it to his ear.

"Who are you calling? Your mommy?" I tease rudely.

"My mothers dead." He says. "Hello Mr. Johnson, I would like you to draw up some lawsuit papers because-" I barely process his first sentence before I start waving my arms wildly, telling him to end the phone call. "Hold on a second Mr. Johnson." He puts his hand on the receiver. "What's that Jane?" He asks.

"Fine, I'll cook for you." I mumble.

"Never mind Mr. Johnson." He ends the call. "Get in the car." His voice is cold, it almost makes me shiver. I roll my eyes, stalking towards the car and slamming the door.

"Now, I want spaghetti tonight, and I want it by 6:30." He replies, easing into the car and starting it. I don't reply and he looks over at me then back at the road. "Did you hear me?" He asks.

"Yup." I pop the 'p'.

"Why didn't you respond?" He asks. I ignore him and look out the window. He doesn't say anything but then I feel a hand clamp down on my knee, inching its way slowly up my leg.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask. He doesn't respond. I place my small hand on his larger one, stopping it from going any farther. "I don't know what you think this is but this isn't some cheesy romance novel with a happy ending, we don't have s*x, we don't get married, and you don't get anything out of this but food." I snap. He smiles, and keeps his hand in its place.

"I suggest you move the hand." I snap. And he does. Farther up my leg. You know what? Two can play at that game. I put my hand on his knee, moving it up just as slowly, raking my nails up his thigh. He moves his hand off my thigh like its on fire, pushing away my hand just as fast.

"S' what I thought." I smirk.