The Perfection of Love (14 page)

“You like?”  He jerked his chin at the room but he still looked confident in what he’d done.

“Don’t be facetious.  There isn’t a woman alive that couldn’t be affected by this.  Thank you Deacon.”  I leaned up to give him a quick peck on his cheek but he turned and pulled me into him fully and took complete control of the kiss.  I didn’t mind at all.

A cough that came from behind us caused us to break away and I tried to hide behind Deacon as a waiter gestured towards the table.  Deacon smirked at me.  He was in no way embarrassed about being caught kissing like a pair of randy teenagers.  He took my hand and led me to the table, holding out my chair for me to sit down.  The food was absolutely amazing.  I tried dishes that I’d never even heard of and at some points I couldn’t even respond to Deacons questions because I was too busy savoring the food.  When we did talk I ended up laughing so hard I had to be careful not to snort my wine at him.  Deacon was seriously funny.  I hadn’t realized that he’d met so many of the other tutors at the university and he did impressions of most of them as he couldn’t remember their names.  His imitations were dead on and I was in hysterics by the time he’d finished.  We talked about everything from books and films to hobbies and dreams.  I was amazed by how much we had in common.  During a rare moment of silence I took the opportunity to ask Deacon the question that had been burning me since he started at the university.

“Deacon, why did you really come to do this project with me?”  He looked up and his smile slightly faded.

“I got into cosmetic surgery for a simple reason.  I was incredibly smart and wanted to earn a lot of money.  I became exceptionally good at what I did and I worked every hour I could to earn as much as I could.  I didn’t care about anyone who came through my door as long as they could afford my fees.  One of my clients was an eighteen year old girl.  Her mum had bought her a breast enlargement and a nose job to make her beautiful.  At the time I didn’t agree with her but  once she was signed off with regard to her mental state, I got on with doing my part.  Her mum was a complete bitch.  She’d go on at her about how she needed to get with the program if she wanted to find herself a good husband when she was older.  The girl was timid and I could tell she didn’t really want the surgery but I didn’t want to get involved.  I performed the surgery and sent her on her way after.  Four months later she killed herself.  Left a suicide note explaining that she had thought she was beautiful even if her mum didn’t think so and that she didn’t want to end up like her.  Basically a superficial bitch.  She’d rather be dead than grow up to be like her.  After that I stopped performing surgery for a while.  I felt responsible for her death.  I saw something was wrong but I did my work anyway.  Once I finished with my self- loathing I decided to do something about what I’d experienced.  I changed the ethics of my practice and hired a better psychologist to screen my patients.  We now have a psychology arm of the practice that offers counseling to women only.  I still wanted to do more and I needed the knowledge for that and that’s when I began reading journals and any theoretical papers I could get my hands on that would help me to understand what drives women to physically alter themselves.  That’s when I came across your papers.  At first it was about the content of what you were writing about but I pretty soon realized you had a specific writing style and I wanted to meet the person behind the words.  I couldn’t have imagined how beautiful you’d actually be in person.”

I’d begun to hold Deacons hand after he’d told me that the poor girl had killed herself.  I couldn’t begin to imagine how guilty he must have felt.  I can’t lie, part of me thought that’s what happens when you’re a money oriented git but at least he was trying to put things right.  Deacon was holding my hand firmly now and staring at our entwined hands as if it was his anchor to here and now.

“That’s a lot of guilt to carry around with you Deacon.  The important thing is that you’ve learned from your experience and you’re now helping people.”  He was still staring at our hands but now he was playing with my fingers. “Deacon.”  He finally met my eyes.  “You need to let go of the past and move on.  Tormenting yourself over it won’t help anyone.”  He gave me a weak smile and I saw him mentally shake off his demons.  I wasn’t sure they were completely gone but he was trying to focus on our date.

“So you’ve pried into my past.  Time to return the favour.”  Oh shit.  Walked into that one.  “You never talk about Jacob’s dad.  In fact you avoid any topics that could potentially lead to him being talked about.  So what’s the situation with that?”  Oh he’d gone straight for it.  Well bad luck mate because I had no intention of talking about it.

“We got together.  He wasn’t what he seemed.  I got pregnant.  He still wasn’t what he seemed.  We broke up.  Simple.”  I moved my attention to my glass of wine and I think he took the hint that the conversation was over where that was concerned.  My palms were sweating.  I hated when anyone asked me about Mitchell.  I knew I shouldn’t but I felt ashamed for letting him treat me the way he did for so long and also letting Jakey witness some of it.  What kind of a mother was I that I couldn’t protect my son?

“Ok.  I’m surprised you gave me that much information to be honest.  Second question. “

“I don’t think I agreed to a second question.”  I was seriously worried about where this was going to go.

“Technically you didn’t really answer my first question, so I get to ask you a second.  Especially as I shared my pretty demons with you.”  Damn him!

“How were you able to get so far in your psychology career and raise Jacob at the same time?  I’m assuming you haven’t been with his dad for a little while now.”

I sighed.  I was going to answer because one: he was right.  He’d been open with me and two: part of me wanted to be open with him.

“When I started seeing Jakey’s dad I was a straight A student.  I got pregnant just before my final year.  The perk of having three sisters is that I’ve always got a babysitter to choose from so it really wasn’t that hard for me to continue with my studies.  Jakey’s dad was all about his image and it wouldn’t have suited him to have been saddled with a girlfriend who had no brains or prospects so he was actually very supportive of me studying and getting my degree.”  I left out the part where Mitchell used the fact that I needed to study as a way to cut me off from my friends and he would refuse to look after Jakey if I wanted to socialize with my new university friends, constantly reminding me that I was a mother and I’d given up my right to a social life when I decided to become a mum.  When I’d argue that I could do both, he would turn it on me and say that I regretted having Jakey, which had never crossed my mind.  At the time it didn’t click that him encouraging me to go to university was just another way for him to control where I was and who I was spending my time with.  “I managed to complete my bachelor’s degree in three years, my masters in eighteen months and now I’m working on getting my PhD.  People think Tara is the only one that’s logical but even I love things to run in order.  Doing my PhD just seems the natural thing for me to do.”  Deacon nodded and seemed to accept my answer.

“Are you ready for part two?”  He looked so excited.

“What’s part two?”

“That would be telling.  Now let’s go woman.”  He kissed the back of my hand and led me out of the restaurant.  I thought we were going back to his car but Deacon steered me down the cobbled street past the nearby bars and late night cafes.

“How do you know where you’re going? You’re not even from this country let alone city.”  Curiosity was killing me.

“Well during all these weeks that you’ve been rejecting me, I’ve been exploring and finding things that interest me and keep me occupied while I pined over you.”  I gently elbowed him in his ribs and he laughed just as he opened the door to a bar that was advertising an open mic night.  I’d never been to an open mic night before but the vibe in the bar was really nice.  There was a curvy lady on stage at the moment crooning away to one of my favourite songs, Jazmine Sullivans, Good Enough.  When she finished that song she whispered in the keyboard players ear and they began another of my favourites,  Melanie Fionas, It Kills Me.  I read somewhere that when you’re happy you enjoy the music but when you’re sad you feel the lyrics.  That was the reason I loved these songs.  When I was with Mitchell and I heard them, I can feel the pain as clear as my own.  Right now I was happier than I’d been in a very long time and I was able to just enjoy the talent that this woman was showcasing.  I hadn’t noticed a short man in jeans and a well worn t-shirt come up behind us and pat Deacon on the back.

“Hey Dea, you gonna go on tonight?”  I turned abruptly in Deacons direction.

“You sing?”  This man clearly had talents I hadn’t begun to unearth.  I mentally blamed the wine I’d drunk earlier for the dirty thoughts that came after wondering exactly what talents would be of benefit to my body.  Was it hot in here or was it me?

“Dea’s one of our best singers.  Why don’t you jump on after Clare’s finished?”  The man looked eager to hear Deacon sing and so was I.  I couldn’t imagine what kind of singing voice he had.

“I’d like to hear you sing Deacon.”  I said this with pure honesty and hoped that it would encourage him, and I may have batted my eyelashes.  His face softened and I knew I was going to get my way.

“I had wanted to just spend the night in your company but since you asked like that I’ll have to indulge you.”  He gave me another quick peck and walked towards the stage.  I couldn’t help but notice the women closest to the stage stopping their conversations to watch him walk past or grabbing his hands and saying hello as though they knew him intimately.  I also couldn’t help but notice the huge pang of jealousy and the urge to slap the bitches silly for touching my bloke.  Woah.  When did I start thinking of him as ‘my bloke’? 

When Clare had finished her song she took a small sheepish bow and walked off the side of the stage, giving Deacon a hug on her way.  He must come here quite often to be so friendly with these people.  Deacon picked up a guitar and settled onto the seat on the stage like a pro.  There was nothing that could have prepared me for what came next.

“Hey everyone.  I hadn’t planned to come here and sing anything tonight as I’m on a date with the beautiful lady standing by the bar in those sexy black jeans that I will be peeling her out of later.  Anyone try to talk to her while I’m here, I promise you I’ll break your arms.”  He laughed and I died when everyone turned to find out who he was talking about.  I hated this kind of attention on me.  “I’m only gonna sing one song because she wanted to hear me so hopefully she won’t think I sound like a drowning cat.”  He started to play the guitar and then began to sing Paul Wellers, You Do Something To Me.  It was beautiful.  He sang with such depth to his voice and the lyrics touched me.  He didn’t take his eyes of me the whole time and it genuinely felt like he was not only touching my soul but healing it as well.  Deacon finished to the loudest applause I’d probably ever heard outside of a real concert and bounced over to me ignoring the females vying for his attention.  He pulled me into his arms and buried his head in my neck.  I loved when he did that.  I pulled back to look at him. 

“Did you like?”  He looked slightly embarrassed.  I had very rarely seen Deacon look anything but confident and this side to him was cute beyond belief.

“Deacon you were amazing.  What else can you do with that mouth of yours? I gave him my best sultry look that was supposed to show him an invitation and I think he got the message.

“We need to go.  Now.”  He grabbed my hand and practically dragged me to the door.

“What happened to us being on a date?”  I was laughing so hard I couldn’t keep up.

“You waggled your damn eyebrows and pouted those sexy lips of yours.  The date isn’t over, we’re just reconvening at my place.  Now let’s go woman!”  He resumed dragging me and when I wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking he scooped me up and ran with me in his arms.

We got to his car and he wasn’t even out of breath.  He placed me down on the passenger side and I went to turn to open the door but he spun me back around and crashed his lips into mine.  He possessed me.  In that moment I completely belonged to Deacon.

“Deacon, what happened to you not touching me until I asked you to?”

“I’m weak willed.  What can I say?  You need to get in the car Dana.”  Now Deacon was breathless and it more than satisfied me to know that I was the one that had made him that way.  He pressed his temple against mine so his lips were close to my ear but not touching.  “If it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t want anyone to see any part of your skin but me, I would take you right here, right now up against my car.