Time to Change

Eli ran her hands through her curls before she answered the door. It was exactly seven o'clock and James was always on time. She smiled as she met his blue eyes and stepped out of the door. It was only her second date with James and it was still in that slightly awkward phase where she wasn't sure how much she should reveal because she could actually see their relationship going somewhere. It was still in that awkward phase where she wasn't sure how much information was too much.

“You look beautiful, Eli,” James said, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

He reached for her hand and, while there were no butterflies in her stomach, it wasn't a hollow feeling. She linked her fingers with his and allowed him to lead her down the three flights of stairs and to his car. And, okay, James was perfect on paper, she could admit that. He was twenty five, fresh out of law school, and was working at his father's law firm. And he wasn't boring or stuffy—though he did wear khaki shorts and loafers and polo shirts. But Eli just told herself that she wasn't used to that—she was used to guys in skinnies and band tees and wearing beanies all year 'round. But she also told herself that comparing James to Alex—or any guy back in Baltimore—wasn't a smart idea. She told herself that James could be good for her...if she let him.

“Are you okay, babe?” James asked as he lightly gripped her elbow and led her towards the restaurant.

Eli looked up at him curiously, eyes narrowing.

James shook his head. “Sorry. Is second date too soon for pet names? It just kinda...slipped.”

“A little early,” Eli said. “I don't really...do pet names.”

“I retract my statement,” James said, smiling. “But the question still stands.”

Eli laughed lightly. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

James nodded as they approached the hostess stand. “Hi, I have a reservation for two under Chamberlain.”

The hostess glanced down at the sheet, highlighting his name, before sending him a bright smile. She grabbed two menus from the side of the stand and looked between the two of them. “Right this way.”

James' hand slid from his elbow to her waist and led her towards the table. Like a gentleman, he pulled out her chair for her before sitting down himself. He thanked the waitress before ordering a bottle of Pinot Grigio for both of them.

Eli bit her lip, watching him across the table. She didn't feel like starting the date off on the wrong foot but he reminded her of Alex so much in that minute—taking the initiative to order for her (like she couldn't do it herself) and ordering alcohol (which was not her drink of choice). But she bit it back.

“The calamari here is wonderful,” James said, opening a menu and glancing over it.

Eli had the feeling that he was doing it just for show. She glanced around the restaurant, taking in the mood lighting, the silk tablecloths, the bottles of wine and champagne practically being tossed around. Then her gaze shifted to all of the diners—dressed elegantly in designer clothes, designer jewelry, designer suits, all of it. The works. She couldn't help but feel a little bit out of place. She still viewed herself as a small town girl from the outskirts of Baltimore, even though she was thrust into the modeling world, and she was still trying to fit in wherever she was.

“I'm, uh, not a fan of seafood,” Eli said softly.

“It's an acquired taste, I don't blame you,” James told her. “It took me years to stomach salmon because my parents always told me it was something I had to like to fit into this world.”

Eli smiled, though it wasn't from humor, it was from empathy. For at least a minute, she could relate to him. He, too, was still trying to fit into a world that might not have been meant for him. “Is this the life you wanted?”

Okay, it wasn't a good second-date question. Hell, it probably wouldn't have even been an adequate eighth-date question. But it was the first one that came to mind. Later, Eli would be able to blame it jitters or she could even just say that she liked to get to know people sooner or she could even say that she doesn't abide by proper dating etiquette. Either way, the question was out before she could stop it.

James paused for a minute, eyes glancing over the menu before he replied. He folded the menu shut and set it on the table. “You, uh, cut right to the chase, don't you?”

Eli bit her lip. “Would you believe that, honestly, that is not a phrase that would normally be used to describe me?”

“It's refreshing, I promise you. It's not a bad quality to have, however it seems to be one that is lacking amongst people in Los Angeles sometimes,” he said. He fell silent for a minute as the waitress returned, pouring them glasses of wine, before asking for their order. “Oh, um, I would like the calamari with the vegetable side, please. And may I have Italian dressing for my salad?”

“Of course,” the waitress replied, scribbling down his order quickly. “And for you, ma'am?”

“Oh, um, I would like...” she trailed off for a minute before grabbing the menu and opening it quickly. “Could I get a six ounce filet mignon with a baked potato, butter only, please?”

“Of course. I'll put these orders in and they'll be out as soon as possible,” the waitress said, reaching for their menus. “Sir, would you like your salad now or with your meal?”

James glanced at Eli quickly and she sent him a small smile. “Um, before the meal, please.”

“Would you like a salad as well?” the waitress asked Eli.

“Oh, um, yes, please,” Eli said, nodding. “Italian dressing as well, please.”

The waitress nodded. “Of course. I'll be right back with those.”

“Thank you,” James said, sending her a smile as she walked away.

“Are you thankful for the distraction?” Eli asked, laughing just slightly. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable but, well, she was actually very curious.

James smiled. “I was momentarily, yes. But... It's the age old story of the Los Angeles elite, you know? My father is a huge lawyer, rarely had time for me, even though I'm his first-born and only son, yet he always managed to instill in me the desire to be a lawyer. I made it through my first four years without any real hiccup and struggled through law school because it's... It's not what I wanted.”

Eli's eyes widened at the last statement but she tried to hide it.

“That's the first time I've ever admitted that,” James said softly, sending her a wink, trying to write off the significance of his statement. “It was something I never had a choice in. And I guess I've been okay with that because it's paying my bills and allowing me to live the kind of life that I want,” he told her, shrugging.

“So... You could see yourself doing this for the rest of your life just to live the lifestyle that you're accustomed to?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I don't know if I could do that,” Eli admitted softly.

“No? How did you get involved in modeling? That...doesn't really seem like you,” James said. “I mean, I don't want to presume that I know everything about you,” he amended.

“No, it's okay,” Eli said, shrugging. “It's not really like me. Trust me, when my best friend found out...”

“I can only imagine what she said.”

“Yeah, he was pretty shocked,” she told him. She didn't miss the small quirk of James' eyebrow when he heard the masculine pronoun but it didn't bother her. Maybe she was trying to test the waters to see how he would react to her having a male as her best friend.

“So... Why?”

Eli shook her head slowly.

“C'mon, you delved into my life, let me delve into yours,” he said, smiling. He glanced up at the waitress as she placed the salads in front of them.

“That's a valid argument,” Eli said, taking a quick bite of her salad. “Well, I've been doing it for about...three and a half years. Halfway through my freshman year, my loan fell through. I later found out it was because of my mother's credit and...all of that wonderful business. Long story short, I needed money. And apart from hooking or selling drugs, this was...the easiest option.”

James nodded slowly.

“The...hooking and drugs...that was a joke,” she said awkwardly, shrugging lightly. “I was approached earlier but declined because it's not what I love. But when I realized it would pay my bills and help with school, I sucked it up.”

“So you, too, are stuck doing something you don't like just to live,” James said. “We're in the same boat, huh?”

“Another good point,” Eli agreed.

“I'm full of them.”

Eli smiled. “I really don't plan on doing it forever. Once I get a job that I'm actually passionate about...then I'll give it up.”

“That's admirable,” James said.

Eli was about to reply when her phone beeped. Frowning, she pulled it out of her clutch. “I'm sorry, I really thought it was on vibrate or something,” she said, checking it quickly. Her frown deepened when she saw it was a text message from Alex.

It's really annoying when you ignore me all day. I know you're only mad because I made a valid point. Just text me back—I'd like to know the bastard didn't rape and kill you.

Eli shook her head, her jaw clenching.

“Are. Are you okay?” James asked. He could sense the sudden change in her mood and wasn't sure if it was wise to ask or not.

“No. No, I am not. Because you know what infuriates me?” Eli asked, turning her phone onto silent mode.

“I—“

She didn't wait for an answer. “My best friend is such a douche bag. Every single guy I go out with is the scum of the earth but his girlfriend hates me and hates when he comes to visit me and that's not a problem? Sorry, honey, but he and I have been friends a lot long than y'all have been dating. But no. No, he doesn't see my side of the argument because he always has to be right,” she ranted, shoving her phone back into her clutch. “I just want to slap the shit out of him right now.”

“It sounds to me like your best friend has a crush on you,” James said, taking a sip of his drink.

Eli frowned. “That is so high school.”

James smiled. “I mean, it makes sense to me. But we can always operate from the asshole angle, if that's what you would prefer.”

“That is what I would prefer,” Eli said, lifting her own glass. “Can we toast to that?”

James laughed, raising his own glass. “To your best friend being an asshole.”

+

After Alex walked off stage, he showered quickly and changed into a fresh pair of clothes. His mood was still, well, less than stellar and he found himself checking his phone every five minutes. When he realized that Eli wasn't going to be texting him anytime soon, he frowned, and sat down on the couch. The rest of his band was showering or loading the bus—he wasn't quite sure and, well, he didn't really care—or something and he was thankful for the alone time.

He told himself he refused to text her first—he had nothing to apologize for, right? He was her friend. And friends are allowed to point out when their friends do something stupid, right? Even as he tried to justify his reasons to himself, he knew they sounded asinine. And, okay, if he could actually admit it to himself, he would admit that he was an asshole. And, okay, maybe he went too far.

Well, the first step was admitting, right?

Alex Gaskarth was not the type of guy to apologize. Okay, correction, he was not the type of guy who usually apologized first. It normally took a lot for him to say those two little words—flogging and berating were usually included (okay, maybe not). Even where Eli was concerned—his best friend, the girl who could get him to apologize after saying something stupid with just one look, the girl who kept him in line, and the girl who had never left his side.

“Dammit,” he muttered, unlocking his phone and texting her quickly. And, okay, maybe he should've apologized. Maybe he should've.

But he didn't.

+

As Eli and James walked along the streets of L.A., a slightly uncomfortable and awkward silence overwhelmed them. The rest of dinner had gone...as good as expected and, as soon as Eli declined desert, James had paid for the meal and suggested a walk. Eli was trying, she really was, to not let Alex's last text message drive her crazy, but she couldn't help it.

She suddenly regretted not turning her phone off instead of just on silent—the urge to check and see if Alex had sent anything else was overwhelming. She was practically fighting with herself to not pull the phone out of her clutch and see what he said. Knowing Alex (and she did—very well), she knew he would have more to say; she knew he wouldn't stop until it erupted into a huge fight; and she knew he wouldn't stop until he had declared himself the winner.

“Are you okay?”

Eli glanced up at him, her eyes wide. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, hands cupping the sides of her face. “I'm a horrible date. I'm so sorry, James.”

James smiled softly (and, okay, if Eli wasn't otherwise preoccupied, she probably would have internally swooned over the dimple because, really, what girl doesn't appreciate a dimple?) and shook his head. “No, you're not a horrible date. You have a lot on your mind, it happens.”

Eli laughed, though the situation wasn't funny. “I'm sorry. He just...makes me so mad and I shouldn't let it distract me from your wonderful company.”

“And now you're trying to make it up to me, aren't you?” he joked, winking at her.

Eli flushed lightly. “It's possible.”

James laughed lightly.

Eli enjoyed the silence for a minute, pleased with the fact that it didn't feel so awkward anymore, and took the chance to look around. It was barely ten that night and the streets were busy—but sometimes it felt like they were always busy. “What time is it?” she muttered, more to herself than to James.

“Five 'til ten,” James answered.

“Oh,” Eli said, digging through her clutch for her cell phone. She would always use the 'wondering the time' excuse when, really, she just wanted to see if Alex had contacted her again. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned when she saw that Alex had called her five times and left no message. How typical, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

“Did he call you?”

“Yes,” she said, shoving her phone roughly into her clutch and shutting it tightly. “I promise, I'm done with stewing for the rest of the night.”

James smiled. “I hope so. Otherwise I think I would ruin my chance at a third date.”

Eli flushed again, thankful for the dim street lights because they made it less obvious, and couldn't help but feel more than a little shy. “I mean...you'd want to go on a third date? After I've been so horribly distracted and uninteresting?”

“Well, aside from that, I think it's been a pretty good date, right?” he asked.

“It definitely scores in the top five,” she told him, nodding slightly.

James smiled. “How about this—I walk you to the door, like a true gentleman, and we call it a night. Then I will call you tomorrow, at a reasonable hour, and we will discuss our next date.”

Eli laughed. “I think that sounds like a perfectly acceptable end to our date.”

“Good,” James said, holding out his hand.

Eli curled her fingers around his and allowed him to lead her the three blocks to her apartment building and up the stairs to her door. And then it was time for the awkwardness to resume. Since it was only their second date (and Eli wouldn't exactly refer to herself as a dating master), she wasn't sure if a kiss on the cheek was acceptable, if a hug was too lame, or an actual kiss was too much.

However, James seemed to know how to answer that question.

That much became clear to her when she felt James' lips against her own.