Save the Date!, page 4
Chapter 7
"Are you sure you have to come?" Gemma asked, glancing at Dixon, still sitting in the passenger seat of her car. So making a wish at 11:11 in the morning that the man sitting in her car would suddenly vanish didn't exactly work as well as Gemma had hoped. Maybe she could annoy him to the point of wanting to leave. She had already put on a mix of her favorite country music, but that didn't seem to be working as well as Gemma had originally planned. So it was time for Plan C. Verbal contact. Ugh.
"Trust me," Dixon said, turning his head so he looked in her direction. "If there was even a slight chance that I didn't have to, I wouldn't be here."
"I mean," Gemma continued as though she hadn't heard him. "I'm just grabbing some books from my school's bookstore. I really don't think I need someone to accompany me to do that. I really don't think people I go to school with want me dead."
"You can never be certain of anything," Dixon told her, and surprisingly, he wasn't being dry or sarcastic. In fact, if Gemma had to guess, it almost sounded as though he was bitter, as though he was speaking from personal experience.
"I don't think that's true," she murmured in a conversational tone.
"Yeah?" Dixon asked, arching a brow as he regarded her with an inquisitive stare. "Then what are you certain of, if you don't mind my asking?"
"I don't," Gemma replied. "And I'll tell you. I am certain that even though I'm in an odd predicament that might border on cruel and unusual, my parents are only trying to protect me. I am certain that James Dean was and is the greatest actor of all time. I am certain that Green Day is the best band on the planet and Eminem is the best rapper in the game. I am certain that one day, I want to live in Los Angeles and manage Hollywood movie stars."
"Those aren't certainties," Dixon argued, shaking his head slightly. His copper hair fell in his face, the tresses almost hiding his eyes. "Those are opinions."
"So, what, am I not allowed to be certain of what I believe?" Gemma asked, giving him an odd look before returning her eyes back to the road. "Hey, you were the one who asked me what I'm certain of, and those things are what I'm certain of."
"Really?" Dixon asked. "Okay, then, if James Dean was such a good actor, why didn't he ever receive an Oscar to honor his talent?"
Instead of being offended, Gemma chuckled. "You're silly," she told him, shooting him a smile. Dixon looked completely baffled by her reaction to his criticism, but he didn't have to wait long for an explanation. "Just because the Academy, who didn't even nominate The Dark Knight for Best Picture, doesn't award someone with a Best Actor trophy doesn't mean that an actor isn't talented. Johnny Depp, arguably the best actor to have ever walked on this planet, hasn't won the trophy. I don't need a bunch of old guys to tell me who has talent and who doesn't. And, I think that if James Dean survived and continued to act, he may have won a trophy of his own. But you know what, who knows?" She paused a moment, letting her words to sink in.
Dixon took a moment to stew over what she had said. He hated to admit it, but she was pretty wise when she wanted to be.
"You're a very passionate person," he told her finally, trying to come up with words that were correct. "Why do you project yourself as…" He let his voice trail off, not exactly sure how to finish it. He didn't want to offend her, per se, but he wasn't exactly sure how to make her out.
"This is who I am," she said, her voice softer. She didn't seem perturbed by his comments, but her eyes weren't shining as they had once been. Not that he had noticed or anything. "I come off as goofy and quirky and silly, but that's okay. I'm a happy person. What people see when they look at me is exactly what they get. But people still judge me based on who they think I am, and they don't exactly realize I am capable of serious conversation." She shrugged her shoulders indifferently, but a sad smile touched her lips. "Well, that's not my problem, is it? People are missing out."
"A diamond in the rough," Dixon stated before he could stop himself.
Gemma pulled into the Lot B of her school, where the bookstore was located, and parked the car. She smiled at him.
"That's a nice way of looking at it," she agreed, and then her face became wary. "Look, I know we're supposed to be engaged and everything, but that doesn't mean we have to, like, hold hands or kiss or anything, right?"
"I've always felt that such dramatic displays of public affection happen when couples are insecure with themselves and feel they have something to prove," Dixon told her as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
Gemma paused as she opened her door. "Yeah," she murmured. "Me too."
Dixon and Gemma headed into the bookstore, the size of it comparable to a Borders or a Barnes & Noble. She saw a couple of people she knew due to previous classes they shared, and while she smiled politely at them, she could tell they were looking at Dixon with curiosity. She glanced up at him as the two walked downstairs, where the textbooks were located. Today, he was wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. For whatever reason, clothes seemed to fit his body quite nicely. It probably had to do with the fact that he was in incredible shape. He could be a model if he wanted to be. Well, maybe not a model. But God, he had nice arms.
Not that Gemma liked him or anything. Her mind was just stating facts.
It was his eyes, though, that were double-take worthy. She and Gillian called him Code Blue for a reason.
Gemma snickered. Code Blue. Priceless.
Dixon glanced down at her, unsure as to why she was laughing. By the look on her face, he figured she had thought of something funny for whatever reason, and had to refrain from allowing himself to smile at her antics.
She was quite unique, a true diamond in the rough.
Not that he was suddenly enjoying her company or anything. But it could be worse. He could be getting shot at and whatnot.
It didn't take long for the couple to find the necessary textbooks for Gemma's fall semester. What surprised Dixon was the fact that she was taking fifteen units. It didn't seem like a lot, but he remembered when he was in college, classes were a lot more work than he had originally expected. What surprised Gemma, on the other hand, was the fact that Dixon had offered to carry her books. Well, he didn't actually say anything; every time she grabbed a book, he would take it from her and that was that.
It was a good thing, too, because by the time they reached the check-out, she probably would have dropped her books.
There, at the register, was none other than Troy Carter, student and football player by day, Greek god by night. Just looking at him caused her heart to stop. He had deep brown eyes with flecks of green scattered about, a square jaw, and messy black hair. He was tall, maybe a couple of inches shorter than Dixon, and quite built. Well, he had to be, didn't he? He was quarterback of the varsity football team.
"Hey Gems," he greeted, and when he flashed her that trademark heart-breaking smile with the dimple popping, Gemma bit her bottom lip.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what Gemma was thinking, and once Dixon did, he had to press his lips together to keep from laughing at her. She may be wise, but she did experience infatuation to the point of forgetting her own name.
"H-hey," Gemma managed to respond. It was then that she remembered Dixon was here and she hated life at that moment. "This is my… f… ffffff…" Dixon had to mask his laughter with coughing, but Gemma knew exactly what he was thinking and she glared at him. "Fiancé. Dixon. His name is Dixon and he is my fiancé."
There. She did it.
After she had paid for her books, she all but stomped to her car. "This is just great," she muttered under her breath. "I had my whole life planned out and I was going to marry Troy and we were going to have two kids and he would play for the NFL and then somebody had to threaten my life." She started the car, which masked her own growl. "So not fair."
Dixon couldn't hold his laughter in now if he tried.
Chapter 8
When they reached the Harrison's home, Dixon bid Gemma a temporary goodbye and hopped into his own car, heading for home. Despite the Hollywood glamour and mysteriousness people tried to paint the CIA with, Dixon did not live in an extraordinary home. He didn't have fast, flashy cars or girls in sexy dresses hanging on his every word, willing to go to bed with him with a smooth retort with his southern accent. If anything, his life was quite normal even though his job wasn't.
Dixon Black currently resided ten minutes away from his employer's home, in a gated apartment complex with a beautiful view of a park from his second-story room. It was bigger than most apartments, but that couldn't be helped. In all honesty, he had expected to be sharing this space with someone, with her. But, as Dixon knew from personal experience, sometimes life just didn't go as planned, and he had to continue to move on.
He missed his life back in Atlanta, back as a detective. He even missed the FBI. He missed his partner, Edwin Long, who always flirted with the women whether they were young or old, beautiful or ugly, slim or obese, blonde or brunette. He always managed to amuse Dixon, though Dixon had never been as forward as old Edwin had been. Edwin was the warm charm of the partnership while Dixon was the mysterious and brooding action of the gang.
He really hadn't had all that many friends because of his quietness. It wasn't as though Dixon wasn't social, of course, but he preferred to listen to people speak rather than participate in the activity himself. People revealed much more than they realized when they weren't aware that other people were listening.
They were the perfect combination, up until the point where his superior, a cold, frigid woman he came to look to as his mother, merely referred to by the name G, told him he was being loaned out to the CIA for a very important case that involved both bureaus. Edwin was already on another case, already partnered with someone else, and Dixon was on the back of his motorcycle, heading to a new home, a new life.
Of course when he had told his long-distance, longtime girlfriend, Eva Shaun, she was none too pleased. He had actually been planning to propose to her right before he left, in the same way he had described to Gemma a couple of days ago. In fact, he had wanted Eva to leave Atlanta and come to Virginia with him.
But Eva had never been fond of traveling, and she didn't seem excited about leaving her home.
"I can't have a relationship with someone who isn't there anymore," she had said in her usual, low voice, her piercing blue eyes near rivaling his own but falling slightly short. “I can’t wait around for you, Dixon. I’ve done it. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t.”
He understood. He didn't ask her to tag along with him if she didn't want to.
Currently, Dixon was standing on the balcony of his apartment, leaning on the banister as his midnight blue eyes stared up at the night sky.
Now that he thought about it, he realized that maybe he should have fought for her harder. Maybe he should have shown just how important it was to him that she come with him, that he had already leased an apartment with an extra room that could be turned into an art studio. But he said nothing of the sort. Instead, he walked out of her life, and she let him.
It was partly her fault too. He left without her and she had let him.
Even so, Dixon knew he had trouble with intimacy. Not, of course, with the physical intimacy, but with the actual feelings. Eva had always been quite logical herself, and she never seemed to mind. He thought she was the One. She had no problem with his problem. He thought it would work out.
But the more Dixon continued to think about it, he couldn't remember the last time the two had told each other that they loved each other. Had they even said it at all? Did it matter, even now?
He had been in Virginia for the past two years now, and he was actually enjoying himself more than he had originally thought it was possible. Brent Harrison was a good boss, he found out, someone he could respect nearly as much he respected G. He actually liked his partner Harvey, even though he was quite different from how Edwin was. Harvey seemed intent on exploring all possible facets of the case before assigning a suspect with charges. It was a completely different way of going about things, but Dixon was intrigued by it only because many other agents tried to put someone away for a crime without fully investigating somebody further.
And now?
Now he was assigned an undercover case, protecting Brent Harrison's twenty year old daughter, someone he found could be quite unnerving when she wanted to be. If anyone managed to elicit some sort of emotion out of the man, it was Gemma. He was aggravated, annoyed, defensive, and… Well, he would never admit it aloud, but he was curious about her as well. He had never met anybody quite like her, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
He would find out sooner rather than later, it would seem.
---
Currently, Gemma was lying flat on her back in her vast backyard, her hands placed behind her head, her long fingers interlocked, and her brown eyes fixed on the bright moon above her. The perfectly manicured grass was cool on her skin, and the night was still warm with summer. The stars were nearly as bright as the moon. The only thing she could hear were the crickets. It was beautiful, peaceful.
School started in a couple of weeks – she would start her last semester before transferring to a university in the spring. She found herself to be excited at the prospect of returning, but nervous and even wary at the same time. Soon, though, she would be thrust out into the world of careers, which seemed to be a problem because she had absolutely no idea what she wanted to do with her life.
Which was silly because with Brent Harrison as her father, she could probably do anything she wanted.
Except, of course, live in the dormitories at her college. Apparently, it was cheaper to live at home and her parents could keep a watchful eye on her. Not that she would do anything she would regret, but many wanted criminals who knew about Gemma Harrison's existence used her by means of threatening her life. Gemma wasn't aware of many of the threats (though they were all quite credible), but she didn't mind living at home anyways. Her parents were never there, so she normally had the house to herself.
Well, that was before Code Blue became her temporary, fake fiancé.
Goodness, she did not like that man. He was cold and indifferent, as though he didn't care about anyone but himself. Even when he did smile, it still looked icy, calculated… Was the man even capable of having fun?
Though, she had to admit, he was quite handsome. She could do much worse when it came to the physical appearance of her fiancé.
But she wanted Troy. She always had. Ever since senior year of high school…
She smiled at the thought. Troy, to her, had always been perfection personified. And he seemed to genuinely like her in return. At least, that was what she had thought. He was always so sweet when it came to her; how was she not supposed to fall in love with him? But with Dixon blocking her from ever developing such a relationship with the quarterback of the football team, the whole prospect seemed absolutely impossible now.
How long was she supposed to pretend, anyways? How long until Tony got another girlfriend he stayed with for a meager couple of months before finding a new one? How long until Gemma was allowed to take control of her life?
She cocked her head to the side while keeping it firmly resting on the grass. She had always liked the particular love quote that said despite the distance between two people, they were always looking up at the same moon. It comforted her to know that no matter what happened to her, Troy looked up at the same moon as she did.
Was she in love with him? She couldn't exactly say. She had never been in love with somebody before, but she liked him very much. That still counted for something, didn't it?
Gemma thought it did.
She sighed softly through her nose, reveling in the warmth the night offered. She didn't like admitting it, but she did have fun with Code Blue whenever the two were together. She smiled, rolling her eyes at such a thought, but it was true and she knew it.
For a moment, she wondered where he was, what he was doing. Did this whole fake marriage ruin any prospect of a relationship between him and some woman? She bit her bottom lip, hoping that it didn't.
Did the man even believe in love? He seemed rather cynical on the whole matter, if she did say so herself.
Oh well.
And then, she idly wondered if he was looking up at the moon just now. Not like it mattered, but the thought was still there nonetheless.
Chapter 9
Don't forget to check your schedule! I think you have something planned for today! Love, Mom.
Gemma frowned upon reading the neatly-scripted note. It was too early for her mother's excitement, even if it was only through handwriting. She sighed through her nose, relenting her original disposition, and trudged over to her desk before plopping into her chair. Currently, she was training her body to wake up early in preparation for school. Gemma always preferred taking morning classes so that by the time she had finished, she still had the afternoons and evenings to finish homework, hang out with friends, and other normal college activities.
However, such a practice required her to get up early even on the weekends so as to not throw her schedule off. Today was Saturday, and the time was 8:23am. And already her mother was reminding her of a required, menial task that had to do for her fake wedding. It would seem to Gemma that her mother was more excited about planning a fake wedding than she had ever been (or at least that Gemma had remembered), and Gemma wondered if Carlene would feel similarly when her daughter actually got married.
What if she's worse?
No. Gemma let out a controlled breath, her eyes closed. Don't even allow yourself to think about such things.
The planner that had been given to her by her very ecstatic mother was lying on the table. Gemma had yet to crack the thing open, afraid to look at what was actually written in there. However, she knew she needed to, so she took a breath and forced herself to look. now was a particular time where she needed to do so, and so she did.
