Chapter 3: Makin' Sweet Music

Steam poured out from the bathroom door as Scarlett scampered into the closet to reach her robe, her body covered in goosebumps from the cool bedroom air. She tied the sash snugly around her waist while she scanned the rows of potentially acceptable outfits for her date.

To her absolute delight, Jason called three days after the gala and invited her to the jazz club. Despite their obvious chemistry, Scarlett was more nervous about their date than she had been on any other. Her latest committed relationship happened to be her very first. She and her high school sweetheart were together for two years before she found him in bed with another woman. Following the breakup, she believed she would never find genuine love. She couldn't be sure how her date with Jason would end, but she preferred to keep an open mind. He seemed like a charming bad boy with a secret soft side she couldn't wait to explore.

After ten minutes of sorting her clothes, she decided on a short red dress with a flowing skirt and a pair of rose gold heels. She straightened her hair, applied a tasteful amount of makeup, and slipped a rose gold bracelet over her wrist to match her shoes.

"Perfect," she exclaimed as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. She grabbed her purse, locked her front door, and stepped into the elevator. As the numbers on the dial gradually reduced, Scarlett anxiously bounced on the balls of her feet. Jason was very seductive at the gala, making her suspicious of his intentions. She had been used for her body her entire life, dressing scantily and smiling at a camera to make ends meet. All Scarlett wanted was to spend her life with someone trustworthy. Someone to remind her she had depths beyond her reflection. Someone to encourage the use of her voice for more than idle conversation.

Scarlett opened the front oak doors of the lobby and breathed in the cool night air. Her eyes wandered over the busy sidewalk and chaotic roadway before they landed on a red Lamborghini parked across the street. She smiled eagerly as she spotted Jason leaning against the driver's side door, looking devilishly handsome in a burgundy leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans, and combat boots. He gave her a slight nod as she approached the car.

"Hello, Jason. It's good to see you again."

"Likewise. You ready?"

"Absolutely! Awesome car, by the way," she said, eyeing the expensive vehicle.

"Thanks. I brought it as a backup plan."

She quirked her head to the side. "Backup plan? For what?"

"In case this date doesn't go well. You may end up hating me before the night's over, but as long as you dig the car, I'll consider it a win."

The two laughed as Jason pressed the button on his keys to lift the doors. Scarlett stepped inside and took a seat on the smooth white leather. The interior was incredibly sleek and modern. The dashboard controls were surrounded with glowing red LEDs, and polished black wood enclosed the gearshift. The engine rumbled like a racecar, purring with anticipation.

Jason hopped in and turned onto the highway. He glanced over at Scarlett, and his mind raced as he saw how astonishingly beautiful she looked. Her ruby lips formed a dreamy smile as the lights of the neon signs glittered in her green eyes. He mentally slapped himself, realizing he didn't compliment her in any way.

"You... look gorgeous tonight," he choked, his voice hoarse.

"Thanks. You look very nice yourself," she returned with a nervous grin. She faced the window again and sighed quietly. "Why is it suddenly so hard to talk to him?'" she thought.

Jason would've banged his head against the dashboard if Scarlett had not been in the car beside him.

"Why is this so damn difficult?! I've never had a problem talking to girls before! Now I'm clamming up like a fucking oyster!" he mentally scolded himself.

Fortunately, they arrived at the club quickly. Scarlett hummed with satisfaction as a trumpet's rich, seductive melody poured through the club's open doorway. It was a modest place. Several wooden tables and a few booths stood at the back of the room. Closer to the entrance was a dance floor beneath colored lights. A live band played the piano, bass, drums, trumpet, and saxophone on stage.

Jason accompanied her to a darkened corner booth and ordered two draft beers.

"So...how've you been lately?" Jason asked. "I know it's only been a few days..."

"Everything is fine! Work is still exhausting, but that's nothing unusual," she replied, her gaze falling.

"If you don't want to do it anymore, don't be afraid to move on. Take a shot in the dark! You might find you enjoy the result."

"I wish it were that simple. Once you step into the spotlight, you can never go back. No matter where I go, people will see that girl in a catalog, potential employers included. Modeling isn't seen as the picture of professionalism."

"Why try to hide it then? We all do things we're not proud of. If you learn to embrace your flaws, other people's judgments won't bother you anymore."

She nodded, evaluating his advice. "I suppose so."

"Your career has taught you to care too much about society's opinion. If you go out there and show people what you can do, you'll realize that not giving a damn will boost your confidence. If people can't look past that part of your life to see what you have to offer, then they can go fuck themselves!"

Scarlett gasped, nearly spewing beer from her nose. She and Jason laughed heartily as she wiped the foam from her chin. "You know, you're absolutely right! I need to build up some confidence and seek out some new passions."

Jason smirked over the rim of his glass. "Although, I think it's sexy when you get all bashful."

Her eyes widened, and a blush spread to her cheeks. He seemed to have an excellent habit of catching her off guard. Scarlett hastily took a sip of her drink and examined the clubgoers on the dance floor. Some looked to be in their mid-fifties, and others appeared to be teenagers. People from all generations loved jazz in Gotham.

Scarlett tapped Jason's hand and motioned to the dance floor. "Whenever I'm out with my friends, we play this game where we guess the lives of the people around us. Want to try?"

"I love a good challenge. How do you play?" Jason asked curiously.

"Look at the couple in the left corner," she instructed. "They're both in their late forties and are here to get away from their three obnoxious teenagers," Scarlett snickered.

Jason grinned. "Oh, this is easy. Let me give it a shot."

Jason scanned the room for his next target.

"There, on the left. Two teenagers from Gotham High. He's one of the popular kids who can easily get a date. I'm guessing by his Letterman jacket that he's on the football team. The girl he's with is a bit of a bookworm and probably doesn't get out much. There's a book bag on the table behind them with To Kill A Mockingbird sticking out of the flap. It's most likely hers. Were it a Friday night, I'd say he's only trying to get laid and blow off steam after the homecoming game. However, the fact that it's early on a weeknight and they're alone suggests he has a crush on her and doesn't want his friends to know. His buddies are probably pressuring him to go out with some skanky cheerleader or homecoming queen, but that's not his type. Right now, he's trying to teach her how to dance."

Scarlett gawked in amazement. "You're incredibly observant!"

"Nah, I'm just good at reading people."

"Really? How well can you read me?"

He stared at her thoughtfully. "I think...you like me and want this date to go well."

Scarlett blushed at his abruptness. "That's easy. Of course, I like you, and I want this to go well. Isn't that everyone's expectation for a first date?"

"I can also tell you're trying to shake the dust of your old life and be your own person, but you're too nervous about going after what you want. You're so concerned with how you come across to other people that the thought of standing up to anyone is almost paralyzing. That's why you moved to Gotham. You wanted to take a risk and face the danger head-on to prove to your mother you could take charge of your own life. You're also proving to yourself that by living in America's most dangerous city, you have what it takes to survive without her interference."

"How do you-"

"I told you, I'm good at reading people," he declared with a confident smirk. "Besides, I know exactly what it feels like."

"You moved here too?"

"No, I'm a brat from The Narrows of the East End. I know this city like the back of my hand. What I meant was...I understand the need to break free from someone's control."

Scarlett stared contemplatively at the surface of the table. He was right about her. How was he so clever?

"You know a lot about me, but I don't know much about you. Was that part of your plan? Redirect my questions to maintain a level of mysteriousness?" she challenged mischievously.

"While I love a good mystery, I'm a fairly open book. What do you want to know?"

"What are your hobbies? What's your job? You know...basic questions."

"I'm working at Earl Cooper's Auto Repair shop, and I like to ride motorcycles with my brother Dick and my friend Roy Harper. Bruce owns a property in Rural Gotham that we converted into a racetrack."

"Speaking of, how did you meet Bruce Wayne? If you lived in the city your whole life, how did you meet one of the wealthiest men in the country?"

"I was orphaned. My mother abandoned me, my father died in prison, and my stepmother overdosed on prescription drugs."

Her eyes softened. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how you must have felt."

"There's no use dwelling on the things I can't change. Anyways, I met Bruce when I was twelve. I did some...work...on his car," he said smugly. It was technically accurate. He did work on Bruce's car; he stole the tires from the Batmobile.

"He adopted you? That was incredibly kind of him. Everyone believes his "nice guy" routine is just a cover."

"He isn't always a nice guy, but he tries to help people in need," Jason stated with a faraway look. Jason was the only person Bruce couldn't help in his hour of need. Even though they reconciled, the topic of his "death" was a sore one.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to darken the mood," she said regretfully. "We were supposed to be having a good time."

"Well, the night's still young," he said, grasping her hand. "Let's dance."

...

"Jason, let me get it!"

"No! The date was my idea, so I'm paying for it!"

"Let me pay for my half, at least!"

"I'm trying to be a gentleman for once in my life, and you're kind of fucking it up," he said, sliding the check back in his direction.

"You are a gentleman. You made it through an entire evening without finding a way to take me home. That's more than I can say for most guys I've been on dates with."

"That's not entirely true. Since the gala, I've come up with nine different plans to get you back to my place and twelve different things I want to do once we get there. I'm just being discreet."

Scarlett held her breath, unsure how to respond to such a bold declaration. "You haven't done anything yet."

"Baby steps," he quipped.

She arched an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine. I'll let you pay for your half."

Scarlett studied him carefully. "What's the catch?"

"You have to go on a second date with me," he winked.

Scarlett huffed in mock- irritation, yet her smile gave her away.

"What's the matter? Am I that repulsive?" Jason asked, turning his lip teasingly.

"No, I had a wonderful time! I...really like you, Jason," she uttered with a pink rouge appearing on her cheeks.

"What's wrong, then?"

"Nothing at all. I think it's adorably irritating how cocky you are."

Jason couldn't help but blush. "What the fuck? Why am I blushing? I don't blush!"

Scarlett sighed. "I'll go out with you again, but let me leave a tip!"

"No! Jeez, you're more stubborn than me! I didn't think that was possible," he said, grabbing his jacket and leading her out the door.

Scarlett didn't understand why but as she sat in Jason's car waiting to go home, she couldn't help but want to feel more of his presence. They had only met a short time ago, but something about his personality was mysterious and exciting. He was a puzzle she desperately wanted to solve.

Once they arrived at her apartment building, Jason walked Scarlett to the lobby doors.

"I'll give you a call sometime next week. Let me know when you're free," he said. He inched closer to her and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. Scarlett gasped faintly at the sudden contact. The feeling of his lips on her skin was intoxicating. It was the kind of sensation that sends an electric pulse down one's spine and brings a sudden warmth to the chest.

She felt almost the same feeling when the masked vigilante Red Hood saved her. It was curious how two different men seemed so alike. Surely, there wasn't the slightest possibility they were the same. It would be too large of a coincidence in so little time, so she pushed the tantalizing notion out of her mind...for the time being.