by Robin Roseau
And so, it was weird, but when I could get her talking, I found her fascinating, and it was easy to listen attentively.
She also had a sense of humor. It was subtle, and as I laughed at something she said, I found myself wondering how often I was missing her jokes.
Then I realized she was staring at me intently, and her face had grown sober. I stilled. As she continued to stare, I felt like I was under a looking glass.
"You're staring," I said softly.
"You're beautiful," she said. "And delightful. I enjoy hearing you laugh."
I offered a hesitant smile.
"You've let me do all the talking," she added.
My smile broadened. "I wouldn't put it that way."
"Oh?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"No. I'd say something like, I made you do all the talking."
She laughed briefly then sobered again. "Why? Don't even try suggesting you're shy."
"I wouldn't say shy," I agreed. "But I recognize the differences between us."
"Oh?" she prompted again, her eyebrow again punctuating the word.
"I'm not stupid," I said. "But I'm young and inexperienced. My world is smaller than yours has been."
"Ah," she said, nodding briefly.
She glanced down at my hand. I'd left it resting on the table as much as I could, available for her if she wanted to hold it. So far, she hadn't. She stared at it for a moment, but she didn't accept the implied offer. Then she looked back up again. "How does this work now?"
"Hmm," I said with another smile. "First, you decide if you want it to work."
"And if I do?"
"Then you pay the bill and invite me somewhere we can continue to talk. Just remember you'll have to take me home later."
Cassidy looked me up and down pointedly. "And if I want to do more than talk?"
I smiled again, although not too broadly. "Maybe we can do a little more than just talk," I agreed. I gave her my own appraising look. "I think I'd enjoy that. But it's just the first date."
She nodded, and it took no time at all to pay the bill. We stood together, and I helped her into her coat. She led the way from the restaurant. Then she did something she hadn't done yet. She took my arm and turned us towards her car.
She led me straight to the passenger door, and then she turned me to face her, stepping closer. She reached with a hand and caressed my cheek, and I thought she was about to try to kiss me.
Like the other women I’d met, Cassidy was twice my age, and then some, but she was well put together and attractive, I thought. I'd already decided to allow all the kisses she wanted.
But she didn't kiss me. Instead she simply caressed my cheek, quite tenderly, but her look was one of hunger, or so I decided.
Then she opened the door and handed me into the car.
She crossed to her own side and climbed in. A minute later we left the parking lot. I set my hand where she could take it if she wanted, but she didn't. Instead, we drove in silence for a couple of minutes before she asked, "What is this going to cost me?"
"You already paid it," I said.
She glanced over at me then turned her attention to the road before she said, "I don't understand."
"You bought dinner. Cassidy, you don't have to give me any more money than you think I'm worth. But I already told you. Tonight is about seeing whether you want a relationship with me. I don't want any money tonight, and if you offer, I won't take it."
She navigated a turn then asked, "Is that why we only do a little more than talking tonight?"
I sighed. "Cassidy, can't we just focus on a relationship? I like you. You're smart and worldly. I think I'd enjoy spending time with you. I've gotten the impression you'd enjoy time with me. If we hit it off, then I can tell you about my situation next time we get together."
She glanced at me again. "I’d like to know what you cost."
I’d had it. I’d had to work to make a conversation, and while I’d like her when she actually spoke, I’d gotten the impression she wasn’t with me for the talking. I stared at her for a minute then answered coldly, "I see. Please take me home."
"I am."
"My home," I said. "School is the other way. Do you need directions?"
Her tone was just as cold as she replied, "I thought you wanted a relationship."
"I do," I said. "But you seem to want a prostitute. Please turn around."
"What's the difference?"
"The relationship," I said, putting as much ice into it as I could. "If driving me home is asking too much, you can drop me anywhere I can call a cab, and I'll take cab money."
Without a word, she pulled to the side, let a car pass us, then executed a U-turn. For the next several minutes, neither of us said a word. I folded my arms and stared out the window.
But finally I said, "You don't know me. You don't know my situation. You can judge if you want. But you don't know that my cousin outed me to my family over Christmas dinner. You don't know that they threw me out the door, nearly literally, ninety minutes later. You know I'm going to college, and you probably have a pretty good idea what that costs. But you may not know the college isn't offering a full scholarship in spite of the change in my family status. But from that, you can guess I'll be on the street at the end of this term if I don't find a way to pay for next year."
I sighed. "You want to know what I cost? Well, let's talk my ultimate dream. I find someone I like who likes me. She wants an exclusive relationship with me, and she understands what it means to take care of me. You perhaps remember on the web site where it talks about taking care of the sugar babies. She gives me a weekly or perhaps monthly check. I need enough for school and somewhere to live during the breaks along with some spending money. I have to pay taxes on it, so that may be about fifteen hundred a week. On top of that, maybe she'll take me places. Maybe she'll buy me gifts. Or maybe she won't. I don't know."
Cassidy didn't say a word.
"Until that happens, I'm open to going out with women who don't want that commitment. I can't go out every night. I'm trying to go to school, after all, and I want good grades. I figure I can probably go out maybe three nights a week and still attend to my schoolwork. But I still need that fifteen hundred a week, or close to it, so that's five hundred a night. Maybe it's a little more if it's a big extravaganza. Maybe it's a little less if it's just dinner and conversation for a few hours, and I can study when I get back home."
I stared out the window another minute.
"I'm not trying to get rich. I'm not trying to soak a bunch of rich women out of their life savings. I'm just trying to stay in school. If this works out, I could actually come out of it without being hopelessly in debt. But if you want to judge me for that, go ahead. You wouldn't be the first."
I shut up after that, but I found myself brushing a tear from my eye.
It didn't help that I had liked her, as hard as it had been to get her to talk.
She didn't say a word until we reached the very edge of campus. But at that point she pulled over to the side and put the car into park. I decided she wasn't even driving me to my dorm, so I released the seatbelt and reached for the handle to climb out, but I stopped with a word from Cassidy.
"Wait."
I remained on the edge of my seat but turned my head. "What?"
"I'm sorry."
I froze for a moment then flopped back to the seat. "Go on."
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Look. I'm older and theoretically wiser, but I still make mistakes. I like you, Astrid. I-"
I stared for a moment, wondering whether she was going to say it. "You want me."
"Yes. I want you. May I take you home with me?"
"I told you I don't put out on the first date."
"To talk," she said. "Will you let me hold you?"
I looked at her in the dim light, but she seemed to carry an earnest expression.
"You know you're going to have to drive all the way back here later. I'm not spending the night."
<
br /> "Was that a 'Yes'?" The pleasure and hope were evident in her voice.
I thought just a moment then said, "Sure. I'd like that."
"Thank you." She put the car back into gear, took a slow, careful U-turn, and then we were retracing our route again. A moment later, she accepted my offer, reaching over to take my hand in hers, entwining our fingers.
We rode in silence from there.
Ticklish
Cassidy's home was in one of those upscale suburban neighborhoods, the kind with a brick-lined entrance and the housing community name prominently displayed. Once past the entrance, the streets meandered, and Cassidy drove slowly while I looked out the window at all the big houses in their large, snow-covered yards.
Cassidy's house was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was a beautiful, two-story house, the front in stone and wood, with big windows and a stately front entrance. She came to a stop in front of the three-car garage and shut down the car.
"Nice," I said.
"It's bigger than I need," she said. "I bought it from a friend a few years ago. It came with some features I really liked, and the neighborhood is quiet. I liked the kitchen, and I couldn't find the sort of kitchen I wanted in a smaller house."
Then we climbed from the car, and she caught up to me at the front, taking my arm again. Cassidy led me to the front door, and a minute later, she was taking my coat from me. She hung up both coats, but she left her shoes on, so I didn't ask about mine.
"Tour?" I asked.
"Will you let me show it to you during the daylight?" she asked.
"Was that an attempt to get me to spend the night?"
"Oh. No. It just shows best during the day."
"All right," I said. And so I let her take my arm and lead me to the room immediately to the right of the foyer, a lovely sitting room. She led me to the sofa, waited until I was seated, then stepped away. She pulled the blinds on the windows then turned to me, her back against the wall. We stared at each other.
"Please wait here," she said.
"All right."
She stepped from the room, and I listened to her progress through the house, her heels clicking against the wood floors. A minute or so later, I heard her returning, and I made sure I was smiling by the time she stepped into the room. She was carrying two small glasses in one hand and a decorative bottle in the other. She set everything down on the coffee table then took her place on the sofa beside me, turned to face me. I looked at her then pointedly at the bottle.
"I'm 19, and you still have to drive me home."
"One glass won't be a problem," she said. She turned to the bottle. It was brand new, the cork still sealed, and she worked for a moment. "A new bottle," she said. "As you can see." She finished with the seal and set the bottle back down. Then she handed me both glasses. I thought she wanted me to hold them while she poured, but instead she said, "I once had a date drug me."
"What?"
She nodded. Then she gestured with her nose. "Both glasses are clean."
"Cassidy-"
"Humor me, Astrid," she said. "Both glasses are clean, and it's a new bottle. Please check the glasses for yourself, and you saw me remove the seal from the bottle."
I sighed but then did what she said, inspecting both glasses.
They looked like miniature martini glasses, I thought, although not quite as wide at the top as a shrunk martini glass might be. They were each crystal clean. I set them both down with a nod.
"This is Grand Marnais," she said. "It's cognac. You may not like it, but I hope you'll try at least a little. It's not vodka or tequila. It's meant to be sipped, not slammed." And then she pulled the cork from the bottle and poured both glasses, just an ounce or so in each glass. She set the bottle aside then gestured to the two glasses. I picked up one and she took the other.
"I like to hold mine here," she said, cradling it near her chest. She smiled. I pulled my glass closer and sniffed at it. It smelled really quite good, and I returned the smile. She sipped from hers, and I took a small sip from mine. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I couldn't say I liked it, but I thought I might grow to like it. I smiled.
Cassidy held the glass against her chest, letting the scent waft up, so I did the same thing. We smiled at each other a moment.
Finally she said, "I like you. And I'm attracted to you."
"I like you, too, Cassidy," I said. "And I'm attracted to you."
"Oh, please," she said.
I set my free hand on her knee. She glanced down at it, but before she could react further, I said, "Let me explain."
"All right," she said slowly.
I withdrew my hand but smiled again. "There's an elephant in the room, so let's just acknowledge it. I wouldn't be here if the promise of money wasn't on the table. But I don't think I'd have been invited if I wasn't young and attractive, either. Would I?"
"No," she said. "I suppose not."
"But if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here, either. If I were a prostitute, maybe I wouldn't care whether I liked you. I'd just be here for as much money as I could get you to pay me with as little investment as possible."
She didn't respond to that.
"But that's not what we're talking about," I continued. "We're talking about a relationship. We're talking about spending time together. We're talking about, well, talking. Conversations. I'm not such a good actress that I could fake enjoying my time with you. Oh, maybe for an evening, but not consistently."
"All right," she said again, even more slowly.
"If I were just here for money, I could make more from guys."
She snorted.
"But I have no interest in men," I said. I looked her up and down pointedly. "Yeah, you're the age you are. So? You're very well put together. You're smart and witty. You carry yourself well. When you're not worried what I think, or what I cost, you appear confident, which I find sexy." I shrugged. "I have no intention of faking interest or enjoyment. If I don't enjoy something, I'll tell you." I shrugged again. "I didn't particularly care for our car ride. I didn't necessarily like having to work this hard to get you to talk." I gestured with the little glass. "I haven't decided how I feel about this, but I suspect if you keep giving me these little glasses, it's going to grow on me."
She snorted again. "Probably."
"Is it expensive?"
She gestured to the bottle. "That's their base quality. That bottle is about $25, so no, I don't think it's expensive. They have higher qualities made with cognac that's aged much longer. Those are expensive. But be careful if you order it in a restaurant."
"I can't do that for another two years," I said. I smiled again. "I'm happy to be here. Okay?"
"Okay," she said. But she looked away.
I managed to suppress a sigh. "What's wrong?"
"I had plans tonight." She didn't look at me. "I think I'm an idiot."
I smiled, but she didn't see it. "This is a pretty new situation for both of us. We're both still learning. So we'll learn a little together. We're both adults. We'll forgive mistakes. But this is going to work best if we're honest with each other."
"I suppose that's true," she said.
She still didn't look at me. So I set a hand on her arm. "You said you wanted to hold me. Did that change?"
"No." Her voice cracked as she said it, such a simple word.
I set my glass down on the coffee table. "I'd like that, Cassidy."
Her glass joined mine, and then she rotated back to me. I held still while she wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and then I moved closer to her, pressing against her side, and leaning us both back against the sofa, working to get comfortable. I laid my head against her shoulder, pressed my forehead against her cheek, and closed my eyes.
Then I sighed, smiled, and said, "This is nice."
She remained stiff, and for a few minutes, we didn't talk. But then I heard cloth against cloth as she shifted slightly, and a moment later there were fingers against my cheek. She caressed lightly
.
"Is this all right?"
"Of course," I said.
After that, I let myself enjoy what she was doing. Her touch felt nice. She caressed my cheek and ear. For a while, she ran fingers through my hair. She caressed my arm and then set her hand on my knee for a while.
She was actually pretty polite. She didn't try to paw me up, which I appreciated.
Then her hand came back up to caress my cheek. She ran a thumb across my lips, and I raised my face. She lowered hers.
Our first kiss was tentative. Sweet, but short and tentative.
"Mmm," I said. "I bet you can do better than that."
And so, our second was far less tentative. Oh, she didn't maul me, but it was longer, much longer, and when she flicked at me with her tongue, I opened, but instead of letting her invade, I flicked with mine, and we had a little tongue dance between us.
After a few seconds of that, she moaned, broke the kiss, and pulled me tightly against her, one arm wrapped around my head.
"I'm afraid," she whispered.
"Why?"
She didn't answer, not directly. Instead, she tightened for a moment then pushed me away, pressing me backwards towards the sofa. I felt a twinge of rejection, but I opened my eyes, and I read anguish across her face.
"Cassidy?" I asked. I lifted a hand to touch her, but she captured it.
"You don't know me," she said.
"So we get to know each other," I said. "That's the nature of a relationship."
"You don't know what I want."
"Well, not in detail," I said. "But I can guess some of it."
She'd turned away, but she looked back towards me, her eyes meeting mine. "I had such... ideas about tonight."
I thought fantasies might have been a more accurate word.
But I waited. I wanted to see how much she'd say without prompting.
"I had this..." She shook her head. "I had this vision, I guess. I'd pay you. And you'd have to do whatever I wanted."
"Ah," I said. "Let me ask you something. In your ideas, was tonight a one-night stand?"
"No."