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Nick stared across the operations room at where Jenny and Sarah were having a conversation about something that would undoubtedly be a mystery to every male member of the human race, and which he was therefore glad he wasn’t required to participate in.
However, it wasn’t their topic of conversation, or even really the fact that they were talking at all, which had caught Nick’s attention. It was their laughter.
Jenny didn’t laugh very often – not around Nick, anyway, when annoyance, frustration, and exasperation seemed to be her default emotions – and Nick was surprised how happy it made her look. And how…well, how it made her look even more beautiful.
This wasn’t the first time that he’d caught himself watching Jenny and thinking such things. She seemed to have changed recently, in the weeks and months since the ‘Leek Incident’, as everyone had taken to calling it.
Nick still remembered Jenny saying to him, when they’d been trapped together in that cell, that she’d been ‘feeling different recently’, and to Nick’s clumsy, rather untutored eye, she certainly seemed to be acting a little differently.
Oh, she could still deliver a blistering putdown when necessary (and which were normally directed at him, Nick reflected ruefully), and she was still more than capable of convincing the unwitting public that they hadn’t seen what they’d thought they’d seen – by sheer force of personality alone, most of the time.
But she had her softer moments now. too. She seemed more willing to be part of the team, to laugh with Sarah and Abby, to chat with Connor, and to muck in with the rest of them when she had to.
She even looked a little different. Nick couldn’t pretend to be any kind of expert on the female appearance, but even he had noticed that the severe hairstyles and bright make-up were gone, and that her dress sense had changed somewhat – less high-end fashion, and more practical for the job at hand.
Yes, Jenny had definitely changed. She was softer, somehow. More…more…more like Claudia.
Except…she wasn’t, not really. Nick recognised the thought for what it had become – almost force of habit. Jenny was different now, but she was still Jenny. And definitely not Claudia.
And Nick was beginning to realise that Jenny was someone he rather liked.
*~*~*~*~*
“Is he still watching us?” Jenny asked in a low voice.
Sarah slanted her eyes to left briefly, and then grinned. “Yes,” she said. “He is. Although, to be more accurate, he’s still watching you. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you.”
Jenny frowned a little. Although she couldn’t glance at Cutter herself without making it obvious she was aware of his scrutiny, she imagined she could feel his eyes fixed on her. The sensation wasn’t a particularly comfortable one.
He’s probably just cataloguing the ways I differ from his precious Claudia Brown, she thought sourly, and then immediately regretted it. Cutter hadn’t actually called her Claudia for several weeks now, and she was starting to hope that maybe this development might be a permanent one. It turned out that not being constantly tense about what Cutter might say next actually made the man a lot easier – and a lot more pleasant, if she was being honest with herself – to talk to.
“I think he likes you,” Sarah teased. Then she laughed. “You’re blushing, you know.”
“I am not,” Jenny protested, although she could feel her cheeks turning red in blatant contradiction of her denial.
“Uh oh, I think he might be coming over,” Sarah said. “I’ll just leave you to it, shall I?”
“Sarah,” Jenny hissed, but her friend was already leaving. Jenny muttered a distinctly unladylike curse under her breath, and then squared her shoulders and turned round as Cutter said her name.
“Yes, Cutter, can I help you with something?”
“I, er…” Cutter muttered in response.
“Well, come on, spit it out, I haven’t got all day,” Jenny said, very aware that Sarah had only made it as far as the next workbench along and was openly eavesdropping. And Sarah’s smirk was making Jenny feel embarrassed, which in turn was making her more snappish with Cutter than she’d really intended to be.
“Well…” Cutter appeared to be steeling himself for something. “I was just wondering, Jenny Lewis, whether you would care to go out to dinner with me?”
“I…what?” Jenny said, gaping in what she knew was an unattractive manner. Of all the things she’d expected Cutter to come out with, this hadn’t been anywhere near the top of the list.
“Er, dinner, you and me? Maybe tomorrow?” Cutter replied. He already looked like he was losing his nerve, and Jenny thought fast.
Dinner with Cutter. Could this possibly be the worst idea in the history of the world? Although, on the other hand, Cutter was clearly offering her some kind of olive branch, one that it would be harsh of her to refuse.
Besides, she couldn’t deny that really, she did quite want to say yes, Sarah’s teasing notwithstanding. After all, hadn’t she asked him out for something to eat herself only a few weeks ago, before the incident at the museum?
And, in addition, he’d managed to issue the invitation without calling her Claudia.
“Yes,” Jenny heard herself saying. “I’d like that very much, Cutter.”
“Oh. Well, good,” Cutter said. Then he smiled, somewhat self-deprecatingly. “Think of it as my way of apologising for past…misunderstandings, shall we say?”
“I’d rather think of it as a date,” said Jenny, before she could stop herself, and then felt her cheeks turning pink once more.
But Cutter seemed to have gone a little red too, and there was a moment of embarrassed silence before they both suddenly smiled at each other.
“So, tomorrow then?” Cutter said.
“Tomorrow,” Jenny confirmed.
“Good.”
“Good.”
After another short silence, Cutter gestured awkwardly in the direction of his office. “Well, I’ve got some work to be getting on with now,” he said, stumbling over his words a little.
“Me too,” Jenny replied. “So I’ll er…” She made a vague gesture of her own. “…just be going now.”
She pointedly ignored Sarah’s wide grin and thumbs up as she left.
*~*~*~*~*
Nick sat down at the table opposite his dinner companion and looked around.
He’d let Jenny choose the restaurant for their ‘date’ (and even though he’d been privately labelling it as such in his head, he’d still been surprised that she was thinking of it that way too), and had feared that they’d end up somewhere cloyingly romantic.
But as it turned out, he was pleasantly surprised. The little bistro she’d directed him to after he’d picked her up was intimate, but not overbearingly so, with an easy, relaxed atmosphere and enough fellow diners that Nick didn’t feel like he and Jenny stood out, but not so many as to make the place noisy and frantic.
Having finished inspecting their surroundings, Nick turned his attention back to Jenny, suddenly remembering one of the necessary ‘date’ courtesies. “You look nice,” he told her.
It was only the truth. Jenny had reverted somewhat to her old mode of dress for the evening, although in some indefinable way she still looked like the softer, more approachable Jenny that Nick had become used to in recent months. A knee-length black skirt was accompanied by a deep red silk blouse and gold jewellery. Jenny had also swept her hair back from her face, but in a way that made it tumble down over one shoulder. The effect made her look younger, somehow.
By comparison, Nick himself felt rather scruffy. There hadn’t been time for a haircut (which he suspected he probably needed), but he’d scrubbed himself up as best he could, even going to the extent of ironing the shirt and chinos he was wearing. However, he was beginning to wonder whether he should have worn a suit. Although he couldn’t recall seeing the only suit he owned since the last time he’d taken it to the dry cleaners. Which had been at least two years ago.
Jenny smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said. “So do you.”
“I probably should have made more of an effort,” Nick replied, smiling back ruefully.
But Jenny shook her head. “You forget, I normally see you dressed in jeans and ratty t-shirts,” she teased. “This is an improvement. And besides,” she surveyed him consideringly, “you’ve never really struck me as a jacket and tie kind of person.”
Nick laughed. “Well, that’s a relief!”
At that moment, the waiter turned up to take their order, interrupting the flow of conversation. When he departed, there was a moment or two of silence, and then something suddenly occurred to Nick.
“Oh, I meant to tell you – Connor came to see me with an idea earlier that I think we need to run past Lester and the others. Can you set up a…”
Jenny stopped him with a look. “How about we don’t talk about work for once, Cutter?” she said. “This is a date, after all, not a business meeting.”
There was that word again. Nick blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance, but then nodded, smiling at the same time. “You’re right,” he replied. “Let’s talk about something else.” But he quickly realised his mind had gone entirely blank, and he mentally floundered, searching desperately for a topic of conversation. He wasn’t sure he’d ever talked to Jenny about anything other than work.
However, Jenny took pity on him. “Shall we start with something simple?” she said. “What’s your favourite film?”
“My favourite film?” Nick raised his eyebrows at her.
Jenny looked slightly embarrassed at the clichéd nature of her question, but she pressed on determinedly. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Your favourite film.”
Nick though for a moment. “The Great Escape,” he said. “Although I’m pretty sure I could recite it to you word for word at this point. I’ve lost count of the number of Christmases Stephen and I sat and watched it together.” His voice stumbled a little over Stephen’s name, and Jenny’s expression turned sympathetic.
But Nick didn’t really want her sympathy. Not tonight, when they were supposed to be having a nice time. He didn’t want to spoil this. So he waved it away before Jenny had the chance to say anything. “So, what’s your favourite film, then?” he asked quickly.
It was obvious that Jenny knew what he was trying to do, but to Nick’s relief she went along with it.
“Breakfast At Tiffany’s,” she said after a moment. “Or maybe Gone with the Wind.” She smiled in amusement. “People have told me I remind them of Scarlett O’Hara.”
“What, because you’re spoiled and bratty?” Nick replied. Half a second later he realised two things. One, that he’d just deeply insulted Jenny. And two, that he’d let on that he knew much more about Gone with the Wind than a forty-something Scottish professor of evolutionary zoology probably should. “God, Jenny, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I…”
But Jenny was still smiling. “It’s all right, Cutter. I’m used to your terminal cases of foot-in-mouth disease, remember? And besides, I know I can be spoiled and bratty on occasion. Although,” she added, directing a mock glare at him, “I don’t think I’m the only one to whom those adjectives can be applied.”
Nick shrugged sheepishly, acknowledging the truth of her statement. “I do like to have things my own way, I suppose,” he said.
“Anyway,” Jenny continued, still looking rather amused, “how do you know so much about Scarlett O’Hara? I wouldn’t have classed you as a closet fan of sweeping romantic epics.”
Nick felt himself turning a little pink, even though, really, he didn’t have any reason to. “My Mum,” he explained. “The Great Escape might be my choice of Christmas film, but Gone With The Wind was hers. I think I must have seen that film every year between the ages of five and fifteen. Even now, nearly thirty years later, I have to change channel if I come across it accidentally. You’ve never seen a grown man dive for the remote so fast.”
Jenny laughed, and once again Nick was struck by how beautiful it made her look. “Note to self,” she said. “Do not subject Nick Cutter to Gone With The Wind at Christmas.” Her eyes twinkled. “Unless he’s been very naughty.”
Nick cleared his throat, annoyed to feel his blush deepening. There had been several implications in Jenny’s words that he couldn’t decide if he wanted to pursue, or ignore altogether.
Luckily, at that moment the waiter came back with their drinks, and Nick used the opportunity to steer the conversation on to another topic, even as he silently berated himself for being a coward.
*~*~*~*~*
Following Jenny partway up the short flight of stairs that led to her front door, Nick waited a couple of steps behind her as she located her door key in her handbag. She fitted the key into the lock, but instead of unlocking the door, she turned and looked down at Nick.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, Cutter?” Jenny’s tone was light, but also slightly nervous, and Nick hesitated for a moment before smiling and shaking his head.
“Perhaps not tonight.” Part of him wondered if this was just another display of cowardice, but the bigger part knew he was doing the right thing. Moving too fast would be a mistake in this instance.
Jenny smiled back. “All right. Probably for the best.” Then she abruptly walked back down the stairs until she was on a level with Nick. “I had a lovely evening, Nick,” she told him sincerely.
“So did I.”
“We should do this again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Nick replied. He looked at Jenny solemnly. “I’d really like us to make a fresh start, Jenny Lewis.”
Jenny nodded, the look in her eyes showing that the faint emphasis Nick had put on her name hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Well, I think we’ve definitely made some progress on that tonight,” she said. Then she leaned forward and kissed Nick quickly on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Thank you for dinner.”
“Wait a minute, Jenny,” Nick said quickly, as she turned away from him to go back up the steps.
Jenny stopped and looked at him quizzically. “Yes?”
Taking a quick breath, Nick leaned in and kissed Jenny properly, on the lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but he was already wondering if he’d made a horrible mistake when he drew back. However, Jenny didn’t slap him, or shout at him. In fact, she looked rather happy.
“Good night, Nick.”
“Good night, Jenny.”
Nick waited until Jenny had shut and locked her front door behind her, and then walked down the steps to the street and back towards his car.
He was slowly realising that he was feeling pretty happy himself.