Color Me (under construction).

6. Dinner

Beau stood in front of her mirror, her big brown eyes staring back at her. She smoothed her short black dress with her shaking hands. Her brown curls fell around her shoulders and cascaded down her back. She grabbed at the cuffs of her sleeves as she took a deep breath. From the confines of her grey bedsheets her phone went off. Her heart fell from its rightful place behind her ribs to the pit of her stomach. Before the ringing sent the caller to voicemail she slid the little green button along the bottom of the screen.

"Hello?" She answered.

The voice from the other end was the only one she had been expecting, and her eyes shot to the clock. "I'm here, you ready?"

It was exactly eight o'clock - Mr. Krasinski was a punctual man. Beau nodded, the thought of being alone with him rendering her speechless. She was nervous and something told him so as he lightly chuckled, "It's okay, Beau. It's just dinner."

"I know," she whispered, her feet still planted where she stood beside her bed. She closed her eyes, "I'm ready...but I can't move."

"Do you want me to come up?"

Beau snapped her eyes open, the question throwing her into overdrive. She stuttered in the receiver as she nearly jogged to the door, "N-no, I'm coming. Stay where you are." She ended the call.

Her hands ran along the walls as she shut lights off as she went. Her parents were sitting up in their bed watching some show before going to sleep. Beau floated past their doorway and bounced down the stairs. She thanked herself for not exactly wearing high heels but opted for her heeled ankle boots. As her hand wrapped around the cool door handle, she nodded to herself.

"It's okay, Beau. It's just dinner," she repeated what Mr. Krasinski told her. With that, she stepped through the threshold into the night.

The cold air nipped at her exposed legs, little goosebumps dotting her skin. Her hair blew back from her shoulders, revealing her open neck. Mr. Krasinski stood by his car, his arms folded across his broad chest. His black suit matched Beau perfectly, his white dress-shirt matching her skin in the pale moonlight. He looked good, too good, and Beau had to force herself to look away.

Mr. Krasinski extended his hand for her to take, her small hand fight so well in his. He opened the passenger door with a gentle tug and helped her in. Once her cold legs touched the heated leather seats, she melted with relief. It was colder than she planned, and she wished she took stockings into consideration.

When Mr. Krasinski got in and twisted the key into the ignition, he glanced over at Beau. She was already watching him, her heart hammering in her chest as his cologne filled the small space. He smiled at her, his white teeth seeming impossible in the blue glow of his radio. His hands gripped the steering wheel as the emotion in his eyes changed the second he looked at her dress. She watched him without a word, his head turning to the dashboard as he moved the car into drive.

Neither of them said anything as they drove. Beau's eyes took in the blur of street lights and walking pedestrians who scurried into warmer places. Sitting in this car with Mr. Krasinski right now felt all sorts of right - Beau was comfortable in his presence when she thought she wasn't going to be. She looked over at him, her curiosity getting the best of her as she leaned her head back against the headrest. She crossed her right leg over her knee to turn fully completely.

"Mr. Krasinski," she said quietly with a smile.

He looked over at her and shook his head, "John."

Beau bit her lip to keep the smile from growing, "Where are we going, John?"

He just smiled at her, his eyes never leaving the road. Her heart hammered, and for half a second she wondered if this was a good idea. She thought about what her friends and parents would think if she never came home. Or if someone came across her body in a ditch - wearing a tattered dress and beaten beyond recognition. She'd become a Jane Doe but always suspected as Beau. Her eyes watched him carefully, a new tone of her thoughts.

John glanced at her, her brows creased and lips a tight line, he sighed, "It's Solaré, it's a beautiful formal restaurant, it's public and there's nothing to worry about." His free hand pointed off towards a large building that seemed to go up forever, "See." Beau could see one of the higher floors clearly, as it's bright lights sparkled down as if they were calling to her.

Her jaw dropped as she leaned forward, "Wait, you said you lived around here?"

"Yes, a few blocks away actually. It's past the apartments and into the housing neighborhoods."

She nodded speechlessly because this was her dream. She wanted nothing more than to become a great author, live in a buzzing city with beautiful night-life, and have her favorite restaurants, and be generally nonchalant about it all. John was living her almost dream, and she was speechless. A feeling tiptoed along her spine as John pulled into the parking lot. John cut the engine and rounded the car, his arm helping her from her warm seat. His arm fell to the curve of her lower back as he led her into the elegant building.

The elevator ride was quiet apart from the drumming of Beau's heart. She restrained herself from reaching out and touching his chest to see if he was just as nervous. Standing beside him, she felt his warmth emanating from him and subconsciously, she stepped closer. John hooked her arm through his as the bell for their floor dinged.

The two stepped from the elevator and were met with a short man with a buzzed head. He nodded toward them and began walking away. John looked at Beau and shrugged, his long legs pulling her with him as he followed the quiet man. He took them to a table and stood aside as they got seated.

As the short man left them to their own devices, John inclined one of his brows, "That was interesting."

"Have you never been here?" Beau asked with wide eyes.

John peeked over his menu and shook his head, "Nope - never."

Beau took a deep breath and realized she didn't care. She let out a small giggle that turned into a hearty laugh. John watched her with a smile, his eyes telling her that it was, indeed, something to laugh at.