Born to Make You Smile

FIVE

My mother was a collector. She loved the thrill of a good find and holding on to sentimental pieces. Her bronze figurines, which she displayed on a shelf in the hallway, had been passed down from her mom, my Oma, who died when I was eight years old.

My mom, Lena, was born in Austria and came to Canada with her parents when she was five. They’d lived in Halifax for several years until moving to Toronto in the early eighties. My mother became pregnant with me at a young age. She married my father, who left when I was two years old and never returned. While I didn’t have a single memory of my father, I’d been told he was controlling and selfish. And that ultimately, my mother and I were better off without him. After he left, my mom had to find her own way. She had no work experience. No diploma or degree. She had nothing but the house. She attended college to be a paralegal, then found work at a successful firm downtown. She’d always tell me: Men show their control with money. Never let them control you like that. Don't be like me, Grace. Be independent. Have your own income. No one can take that away from you.

My eyes ran over the glass display cases in the living room. The Royal Doulton collectibles and horse paraphernalia. My mother adored horses. She used to tell me she would have been an equestrian if not for her leg injury.

She picked out every piece of furniture and decor item in our home. Her signature eclectic style carried through every room. I meticulously kept the house exactly as she’d left it although evidence of the years began to show. The tarnished furniture. The peeling of the aged wallpaper. The shifting and loosening of the hardwood floors. I also noticed several sizable cracks in the ceiling above the bay window. Those were definitely new. And slightly concerning.

The bing-bong of the doorbell shifted my attention. I’d completely lost track of time. Hurried, I swiped on a layer of pink lip gloss and took one last glance in the mirror. I scrunched my curls, then adjusted the cotton straps of my green dress before answering the door.

“Ethan,” I said, my eyes running over him. He looked as if he had just stepped off a photo shoot, perfectly groomed and styled in a fitted gray dress shirt and black pants.

He flashed a wide smile. “You look beautiful.”

My face flushed. “Thank you. So do you. I mean, you look handsome.”

He reached out for a hug, and I went for a handshake, so it became an awkward sort of hug-shake. With some reluctance, I gently wrapped my arm around him. He smelled incredible, like a men’s cologne ad sprung to life.

We sat in his car, a new-looking dark gray BMW. It was such a beautiful evening, and he had the windows down a bit, letting some refreshing June air in. We made small talk, mostly about Aslan and the trials of puppy training.

He took me to a quaint bistro downtown. The ambience straddled the line between fancy and casual, really a perfect place for a first date. Another bonus was that it was quiet, but not too quiet . We could talk comfortably, but we weren’t alone.

The server handed us menus and offered sparkling water before he left us.

With a smile, I studied the attractive man in front of me. His angled face appeared perfectly symmetrical, and his hair was so healthy and thick. He had nice deep eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips. And of course, a perfectly straight, gleaming white set of teeth. Dental assistant approved.

Ethan was beautiful, like a sculpture. I almost had a hard time looking at him, as if staring at beams of sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow.

“So I hope this isn't a strange question,” I said with a pause. “Do you model?”

He chuckled. “I used to, actually, when I was younger. A side gig here and there. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. You carry yourself like one.”

Or maybe because you look like you belong in a museum.

“Would you like wine?” he asked, looking up from the wine menu in his hands.

“A white wine would be nice, thanks.”

When the server returned, I ordered penne in a rosé sauce with shrimp and roasted peppers. Ethan ordered chicken, a baked potato, and made sure the vegetables were steamed with no butter. It made sense he watched his intake, looking the way he did. He crossed his arms at one point, and his biceps bulged against his dress shirt. I wondered how often he went to the gym. My guess was a lot from what I could tell.

We ate our meals and talked more about work and school. He earned his undergraduate degree and MBA at Western University, where he met Will.

“Did you want dessert?” he asked, peering at the menu the server handed us. “Maybe we could share something?”

“What about this fruit tart? Or dulce de leche cheesecake?”

“Dulce de leche cheesecake, you say?” He paused for a beat. “Sold.”

My body melted with ease. My first date with Ethan had turned out a lot better than anticipated.

When the bill came, Ethan grabbed it right away. I was about to suggest we split it until I remembered the advice Dorina drilled into me before the date. It’s just dinner. Let him pay. Trust me!

At the end of the evening, Ethan and I sat in my driveway, chatting. We stared at each other awkwardly during a break in the conversation, and I had a feeling about what was coming next. While my heart fluttered with nerves, I really wanted Ethan to kiss me. I was desperate to feel that spark. But then, he unexpectedly grabbed my hand and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

The action was so refreshing. So wonderfully old-fashioned and respectful. The complete opposite of what I would expect from a man who looked like Ethan. I felt terrible that I’d misjudged him.

“I had a great time tonight, Grace,” he murmured, his deep brown eyes focused on me. “I’d love to see you again.”

I nodded with a smile, my heart beaming. “Absolutely.”

***

A few weeks later, I slipped into Gavin’s car on a warm Friday morning, nestling my full tote beneath my legs.

“Good morning,” I said cheerily.

“Morning, love.” He stared at me wide-eyed for the entirety of our G-Force routine. “By the way, you look so…” He scratched his neck. “Your hair looks very nice. Very pretty. I’m not used to seeing it down and all curled like that.”

“Thank you.” I sank into the chair sheepishly.

Ethan had plans to pick me up after work for our second date. We were going to head downtown for an early dinner, followed by a comedy show. I’d styled my hair and had put extra makeup on. I also brought a change of clothes and packed some makeup to touch it up in case work got the best of me.

“I actually have a date tonight, so I won't need a ride home,” I said. “He's picking me up straight from work since it's on the way downtown.”

“Oh, yes, all right. What’s his name? How did you two meet?”

“Ethan. He’s a friend of Dorina’s boyfriend.”

He scratched his temple. “He’s your age?”

“Twenty-eight.”

He hummed with a furrowed brow. “An older man. As long as he treats you right.”

“So far, so good,” I said, biting my lip with a smile as I remembered the sweet way he’d kissed my hand.

“I see.” He leaned back in his seat and tapped the steering wheel as we sat in traffic. “Well, since I'll be driving on my own this afternoon, I’ll get to blast that song you despise.”

The song in reference was Hot Chocolate’s “You Sexy Thing.” I wasn’t sure why, but something about the tune agitated me.

“I don't despise it. It’s just not my favorite.”

“In that case, what do you say I play it right now?”

I waved my hands in the air. “No! Please don’t.”

He let out a sinister laugh and gently nudged me with his elbow.

***

After the last patient left and I cleaned up, I went into the washroom to change out of my scrubs and into a flowy powder-blue dress, which I’d chosen since the thin rayon material could be stashed away without wrinkling. The dress had capped sleeves and a scooped neckline with just a hint of cleavage showing—flirty yet tasteful. I also brought flat silver sandals to go with it—cute but also easy to walk in since I knew parking downtown was a nightmare. As I did up the straps, my phone beeped with a message.

Ethan: Hey, Grace. I'm here! Can I come in?

Me: Yes, I'm almost ready :)

Ethan: K, I'll be at the front.

When I pulled the clip from my hair, my golden curls fell to my shoulders. I touched up my makeup with a bit of blush and gloss. I headed to Gavin's office to tell him I was leaving but stopped when I heard the murmurs of his and Ethan's voices in the reception area. On my way to the front, I caught sight of them talking to each other, Ethan's giant frame towering over Gavin, who I’d always thought was fairly tall at about an inch under six feet.

Ethan looked striking. His white dress shirt was tucked into navy pants, and his outfit perfectly fitted as if it were tailored for him. I glanced at Tina, who flashed me a look and mouthed an exaggerated, “ Wow, ” as she tilted her head toward my date.

“Have a great evening, Tina,” I said with a smirk.

“You too,” she answered, wide-eyed, subtly fluffing her ear-length light-brown hair.

Both men turned to look when they heard us. Ethan smiled while Gavin stared blankly, adjusting his glasses.

I gave a small wave. “Hi, Ethan.”

“Grace. You look gorgeous,” he said.

I looked up at him, craning my neck in the process. He had to be at least a foot taller than my five-three frame. “Thanks, so do you. But I'm so tiny next to you in my flats.”

“That's okay. I love it.” Ethan licked his lips, then turned to Gavin. “Dr. Brinley, do you mind if I use your restroom before we go?”

“Go right ahead. It’s down the hall, first door on the left.”

Ethan thanked him, then walked away.

With his hands in his pockets, Gavin glared at me with an overstated nod of agreement, then leaned in close. “He’s very handsome and polite. And tall . I bet he must drive a convertible.”

I chuckled. “You approve?”

“It's not as if you require my approval, but based on first impressions alone, he seems like the perfect gentleman.” He paused for a beat as he looked me over, brows raised. “By the way, you look stunning. That’s definitely your color. It makes your blue eyes sparkle.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks flushed with warmth.

Eventually, Ethan and I made our way downtown, getting stuck in a bit of traffic on Yonge Street.

“Your boss is a really nice guy,” said Ethan.

“Yeah. He’s great.” I nodded. “By the way, what were you two talking about before I came in?”

“Not much. He asked me about my job, and then he talked about you.”

“Me?” My eyes widened. “What did he say?”

“All good things, of course. How incredible you are. How you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to his dental practice.”

“Oh. Well. All right,” I said, my cheeks crimson.

I was a bit taken aback. Sure, Gavin had praised me many times before, but knowing he’d said that to Ethan made my chest swell with a smug sense of pride and honor. I thought about when I first started working for him and how he was in a pinch and needed a temporary assistant. After about a week, he hired me permanently. In his words, I was the best assistant he’d ever had .

Ethan scrolled through the satellite radio stations. “What kind of music do you like?”

“I’m good with anything,” I said with a smile, trying to be as compliant as possible.

“You have to have a favorite. What do you put on at home or in the car?”

I shrugged. “Pop. New age. Retro. But I suppose my favorite is ’70s disco and funk.”

It was a little embarrassing that Gavin's taste in music had become deeply ingrained into me as a result of our carpooling over the years.

Ethan chuckled. “Really? That's pretty cool. I think there’s a station here.”

The car was essentially at a standstill, so he had a chance to search through the stations. He stopped at one called “’70s Fever.” A few songs played, and I resisted the temptation to groove out. Then, as if a cruel joke had been planned, “You Sexy Thing” came on.

I laughed to myself, picturing Gavin moving along to the beat.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Ethan graciously dropped me off while he parked the car despite my telling him I could walk. I had my flats on, after all.

“I'll wait for you at the front,” I said before I got out of his car.

While I waited, I couldn't resist texting Gavin.

Me: Guess what song was playing in my date’s car?? : /

He replied right away.

Gavin: Seems you can't escape it :P

Me: I know! It haunts me wherever I go.

Gavin: Haha! ;) But you'd better get back to your suitor.

Me: He dropped me off. I’m just waiting for him to park.

Gavin: Ahh. Very good. Definitely a gentleman.

Me: Haha.

Gavin: Maybe the song is a sign!

Me: What do you mean?

Gavin: That you should believe in miracles :) :) :)

Me: Hehe. We'll see.

Gavin: Have a great night, Grace.

Me: Thanks, you too! :)

Following dinner and the comedy show, Ethan and I found ourselves parked in my driveway. I shifted my body closer, hoping he would kiss me this time.

Ethan gazed into my eyes. “I had a great time tonight.”

My heart raced with anticipation.

He leaned in, closing the space between us, and put his lips on mine. His kiss started calm and delicate, then he picked up the pace, and his motions became more hurried. The coarse feel of his scruff rubbing against my skin was new and interesting. He moved his tongue into my mouth to stroke mine. Then he slowed, pulling away.

The kiss was really great. Definitely the best kiss I’d ever had. Not that I had much to compare it to. While it didn’t set off grand fireworks, it felt pleasant and satisfying. And I was open to doing it again.

As I lay in bed that evening, I thought about the date with Ethan and our kiss. It had been a romantic and sweet kiss. Not too heavy nor too tame. Perfect, really.

For some reason, my mind wandered back to the passionate kiss I’d observed between Gavin and Michelle. The flashbacks of it caused unexpected pulses of blood to rush between my thighs.

Maybe it was the act of secretly watching them that got me going.

Was I a closet voyeur or something?

Then I thought about Gavin's lips on me instead. Kissing me. The fantasy was quick, but throbbing heat struck my lower body with such ferocity the intensity caught me by surprise.

Oh no. Whatever spark was lit the day I’d witnessed that kiss had to be extinguished. I tried to focus on a childhood memory involving Gavin instead.

Losing my front tooth!

I was eight, and I had finally lost my left central incisor. With my favorite Beanie Baby in hand, I ran over to the fence and yelled at Gavin, who was in his backyard raking leaves. He came closer, and I told him the news with great excitement, showing off the huge gap in my teeth.

“The tooth fairy will pay you a visit tonight,” he’d said happily.

I wasn’t really sure about this tooth fairy business. She supposedly took an old, useless tooth and paid you for it? It didn’t sound like a good deal at all. A little too good to be true.

“I’m not sure I believe in the tooth fairy anymore,” I’d said.

“Ahh.” He nodded. “But you know, if you don’t believe, she may no longer bring you money.”

“Well. That’s no good.” My braided pigtails swayed side to side as I shook my head. “I could use that extra cash. Then I can buy more Beanie Babies to add to my collection. I wanna fill up my whole room so I can swim in them!”

I held up Avalanche, my husky Beanie, so Gavin could see her.

He put a hand on his chest and laughed. “Oh, Grace, love. You are a delight. You never cease to make me smile.”

However, as my mind came back to the present, I couldn’t help but think about other ways I could make Gavin smile. My thoughts ventured well beyond a kiss on the lips.

I groaned, knowing I had to find a way to make these renegade feelings stop before they barrelled out of control.