Mateo Rojas | Poe Dameron (blacksquadron) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-02-26 22:17:00 |
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She’d lasted until midnight at the Jazz House, soaking up how glamorous a town like Dunhaven could become in the blink of an eye -- or at least how easily its inhabitants slipped into tuxedos and evening gowns for a night where they could forget everything else and pretend to be someone else. Despite its proximity to Washington D.C., sometimes Dunhaven existed in its own little bubble. Asha had missed the quirks of the town more than she’d realized. And she’d come back wanting answers. She’d never been able to shake the strange things she’d seen in her dreams while she lived in Dunhaven during her undergraduate studies. She’d finally left -- still in her cocktail dress -- in search of something a bit quieter. While she’d found that at the Pourhouse, she’d also found a familiar face. She slid onto the stool beside Mateo at the bar and smiled. “We meet again.” Grace and Diego had years of quiet nights between them. And, with everything that had been revealed regarding the whethertos and the whyfors of who all their family was (in addition to how it played out universe-wise), Mateo felt he owed Diego on multiple levels. Ergo his offer to babysit so that they could have an event all to themselves with no real ETA necessary. Plus, he loved his nieces. After the tea parties, dipping into Mom’s makeup and nailpolish, and finally movies right before bed, Mateo could admit that he was both fulfilled and somehow ready for round two. So, when Grace and Diego came home (still far earlier than he thought appropriate), he decided to end his evening at the Pourhouse. In sweats, with a few poorly painted fingernails and a mussed half-glittered countenance, he didn’t quite look himself. But Johnny Walker didn’t judge. On the other hand … he turned with a blink of surprise. Asha. Oh shit … “Hey.” He signalled to the bartender. “She’s on my tab,” was called out. Then, back to her. All red lace with a mask dangling from her fingertips, her appearance told him all he needed to know. “I heard it was a shindig.” “You don’t --” Asha’s voice died on her lips; it was too late to stop Mateo once the bartender nodded in recognition. She hadn’t walked over just so he could buy her a drink -- she could buy plenty of her own -- and she didn’t want to feel beholden to him. But, another voice in her head spoke up, he offered. She ordered one of the bourbon-based cocktails from the menu, and then looked back at Mateo, finally getting a chance to take in his appearance. Smiling, she shrugged a shoulder. “Sure, but it looks like you had more fun.” “ … my nieces,” he said by way of explanation. His evening had been quite a lot of fun. And it wasn’t those elements that made him embarrassed. There was a beautiful woman sitting next to him - one that he had disrespected in another time - and he was wearing sweatpants. But he smiled gainfully. “Their parents rarely get to go out and I offered.” She’d been expecting something else -- his own kid, maybe -- though why, she couldn’t say. It wouldn’t have been a good thing if he’d spent time with his own child and then gone to the bar after. The reality was better than her wayward imagination, and it made her smile brightly at him. “That’s sweet,” she told him, and she meant it. “I bet they love the hell out of you.” “ … I’m still “Uncle Mateo from Chicago” so we haven’t knocked off that magic new dust. After awhile, it won’t be so fun to partake in glitter tea parties and beauty shop.” He had determined, however, that he was going to buy Hannah a box of dinosaurs. Just for the hell of it. He smiled tentatively. “Do you have any kids?” Asha scoffed. “Me? Lord, no.” The bartender set her drink down in front of her and wandered away again. “I’m too busy for kids.” It was the bane of her mother’s existence, from the way she acted. It’d gotten in the way of prior relationships, too -- that she didn’t want to compromise her career for a family, and couldn’t see a way she could commit to both with the attention they’d both need. “What about you?” “ … about the same.” That was, of course, until he and his stupid dreams landed in Dunhaven for quiet life. Mateo had enough flings to see him through but he was focused on how he meant to help his neighborhood, how here he would rest and eventually get back to making sure the kids that grew up like he did didn’t end up behind bars. “You get shit when you’re home, too?” How spot-on he was made Asha throw her head back and laugh. “All the damn time.” There were aunties and neighbors and friends of her parents who always had an opinion -- not to mention her own mother. In truth, Asha always imagined it would happen eventually, but then her career started to take off. Now? Now, Asha wasn’t sure how it would fit. She took a sip of her drink, eyes narrowed a little at him over the edge of her glass. “Looks like I was right about seeing you around. I should’ve bet on it.” He snorted. That was one thing about Asha. Even if he’d met her less than a handful of times, she had that easy way about her that just made talking simple. Since most of his colleagues were entitled male assholes, he rarely experienced it. “Yeah, want to make another bet?” He smiled crookedly. “You must be feeling lucky.” Asha raised a brow. “Maybe I am.” She still didn’t know how she felt about finding out he was in Dunhaven, too. She’d thought it would be fine, at first, but that hadn’t lasted long. He’d gotten cagey quickly, and it’d thrown Asha for a loop. The Mateo who sat next to her was the one she remembered, though. His smile was disarming -- she remembered that, too. “What are we betting on?” “I bet you’ll see me again. Friday night … a proper date. I owe you after so long and …” here, he paused. He knew a lot of men and women had one night stands and moved on. It wasn’t his way, though. And he had carried a good amount of guilt over it that overwhelmed him quickly enough when he realized Asha had moved here. “I owe you,” he repeated. “I want to owe you.” That was the last thing she’d expected, but Asha knew right away that she wasn’t going to say no. She’d liked Mateo when they had first met, and if she’d been at a different point of her life then, she would’ve tried to shift their connection into something deeper than just one night. But at the time, she’d known it wouldn’t fit. “You don’t owe me anything, Mateo,” Asha insisted. “We had a good night, didn’t we?” Her brow furrowed a little. “I’m not saying no, I just… don’t want you asking me out of guilt or anything like that.” “It isn’t guilt. I …” he frowned. “I wasn’t raised for flirting and one night stands. I’ve regretted the way I treated you and honestly, would like the opportunity to take you on an actual date.” Quirking a corner of his lip, he leaned forward and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “One that doesn’t include cocktail dresses and sweatpants.” “So what am I supposed to wear instead?” she asked, “an evening gown?” It was hard to resist the way her stomach flipped, seeing the way he was looking at her, but Asha pushed through it. “If you had these regrets, why didn’t you ever look me up?” “I don’t know … I was busy. Pretty stupid, too. You started your career and I went home to make a difference in Chicago.” He turned to his drink, allowing himself a long pull before he looked back at her again. “I didn’t make enough of a difference.” He paused. “But that’s not what we’re discussing.” Asha smiled a little. She’d give him the pretty stupid thing, only because he’d been holding onto guilt for years. But it was true, too, that he was busy. She’d kept tabs as much as she could from halfway across the country, so she knew enough. She’d been busy, too. She knew that. “What if we’re both in sweatpants?” she asked him. “Because I think you look pretty damn good.” A laugh -- “You say that but you’re the one in a cocktail dress, making my heart go all wild.” And it was. He felt the damn thing knocking insistently against his ribs as he let himself lean closer. He paused. “Hey. You may not know this since it doesn’t get covered in WaPo … but I can cook decently well. Wear sweats and bring a bottle of wine. I’ll cook dinner.” “Yeah?” Asha leaned in, too, her drink entirely forgotten. “I think I’ll have to defer judgment until I see the evidence for myself.” It was taking everything she had not to kiss him already, or ask him back to her place. That was, in particular, contrary to what he was asking for. “Next Friday. It’s a date. And this time --” She held her hand out to him. “Let me put my number in your phone.” Mateo had an idea. It was a risky move but he was brave. He slid his phone over the bar slowly, using their proximity to deliver a soft kiss to her temple before he sat back and offered her a quirked brow. “Pick out your favorite emoji and put it next to your name. Then I’ll text you mine.” Slightly elementary, he knew. But fun? He hoped. It was hard to tell how much of Mateo’s actions were just fueled by alcohol. That was what had gotten them into the spot he felt guilty about now, and Asha didn’t want him to walk headlong into something else he wished he’d handled differently. … but the press of his lips against her skin made her shiver. To hell with holding back and to regret, she thought. She’d always lived in the moment and gone after exactly what she wanted; why should she stop now? She looked at him with a curious expression. “All right.” She made sure the screen was out of his view, and then tapped in her name and number. The emoji was last, only because she wasn’t sure how she should play it. Serious? Flirtatious? Should she go with one she used all of the time, or one that meant more? She finally settled on the cherry blossom, in part because she knew he’d remember her tattoo (or hoped he would), and then passed his phone back. His only response, on seeing the emoji, was to quirk a quick brow at her. “Appropriate,” he claimed, before digging in his pocket to leave a generous amount of cash on the bar. “I’ll text you my favorite later so you know I have your number right.” Mateo couldn’t believe his luck. To encounter this woman again - and in Dunhaven, of all places - was altogether kismet. It seemed inconsequential to dwell in the past. Especially when she was right here. He rose from the bar. “This old man needs an early night, though.” Asha stared at him as he stood up. While she certainly hadn’t expected the night to end the way it had the first time they’d had drinks together, she’d also thought that this -- whatever it was -- was going well enough that he wouldn’t want to bail just yet. It took her a moment to brush off her pride and remind herself that she was a goddamn catch; if he didn’t follow through, it was his loss, not hers. She stood, too, so she could give him a proper goodbye -- a kiss to his cheek, and she didn’t bother wiping away any residual lipstick. “Don’t take too long,” she warned. “A girl’s not going to wait around for years.” “I learned my lesson,” he told her, palm cupping her face to hold her there for a moment. “You’re going to hear from me as soon as I walk out the door and around the corner.” Since, of course, Mateo lived right above his office the Pourhouse was just a mild hike from his sofa. “I need to see you again …” When she kissed him, his eyes closed briefly, his smile now beaming from between his bitten lower lip. “See you soon.” And before the night (or his sweatpants) could betray his feelings any further, he turned and left the bar. |