Dead Sexy: Second Endings 1

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Dead Sexy: Second Endings 1 Page 19

by Lulu M. Sylvian


  Tonight, we were in store for another speed dating meeting. We arrived about fifteen minutes early, as usual. Holly liked to check out the crowd before we began. I liked to be surprised. I had a bad habit of setting myself up for disappointment. Guys who appeared as if they would be nice tended to have the opposite personality. I found that if I removed any chance for me to prejudge a person, I was more open during the five minute discussion, and less disappointed from any expectations. I tried to be a decent human. It never lasted long, especially since as soon as the speed dates were over, I was the first one to start making fun of the whole event.

  Everyone scattered throughout the room. Chairs and tables had been set up in a big circle. Some people sat, some milled about waiting for it to begin. Holly and I huddled close together trying to decide if we wanted Mexican or the sports bar afterwards. I was leaning toward the bar. The bartender was really hot, and I felt like wings were the perfect food tonight.

  “Ah-hem.” The club organizer stood in the front of the circle of tables. He had a hat that he held in front of him. “Okay, I recognize a few of you.” He nodded toward Holly and me. “And some of you are new. So, let me explain how this works. We have twelve ladies and eleven gentlemen tonight, so we finish after all the ladies have a five minute date with all the gentlemen. We’ll be done in an hour. I need a lady to draw from the hat to see which group is on the inside.”

  A woman with black hair, in a red strapless dress with matching red lipstick, pulled a piece of paper from the hat. I felt incredibly underdressed having come straight from work. She handed the organizer the slip of paper. “Alright, ladies you will be on the outside ring, which means you move and the men will have the inner ring, and they stay in place. I’m going to ask you now to stand behind a chair. Remember ladies, on the outer ring, please. Since we have more ladies tonight there will be an empty space. You get a five minute date with air.”

  There was shuffling around as everyone found a chair to stand behind. I smiled at the guy across from me. He looked nice enough—Sandy hair, Dockers, and a light blue button-down shirt. I reminded myself to not assume personality based on appearance.

  “When the alarm sounds you can begin. Ladies, please move to your left on the next alarm.”

  He sounded a buzzer, and we sat.

  I extended my hand, as did my date.

  “Gillian, how are you today?”

  “Jim, and I’m doing great. Wanna get out of here and get laid when this is over. I live about five minutes away.”

  And score one for Gillian’s bad judgment. I had a ‘let’s get laid’ right out of the starting gate. I zoned out and smiled and nodded, and thought about how extra hot sauce on wings would be good tonight. I contemplated the merits of blue cheese versus ranch for dipping sauce until the buzzer sounded.

  I left let’s-get-laid-Jim and moved to my left. The woman next to me shifted right, and we had a minor crash. Apologies and giggles over the confusion, it happens every time, and it would happen at least one more time tonight before everyone shifted with precision.

  My next date was Tad. Tad was in car sales. Tad was really interested in what I drove and thought he could get me into a newer Toyota for a reasonable price. He slipped me his business card. There was always at least one sales guy, usually someone with a multi-level marketing brand. I think they were so used to selling things, they forgot that now was the time to sell themselves and not their products.

  After Tad, I landed another lets have sex guy. I didn’t even bother to remember his name. What I did remember was the expression on my neighbor’s face when she turned to me as we were switching. Her eyes were crazy and her brows drawn together. Clearly, she signaled that this was not a high quality five minutes I was stepping up to.

  My fourth date was a complete surprise.

  “David?” I had not expected him to be at a dating event. I figured he was still with Jenny. I said as much.

  “We aren’t together anymore.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to know, but at the same time, I did want to know why not. He had blown a good thing with me for her.

  “Why?” My curiosity got the better of me.

  “It’s really none of your business.” He huffed through his nose.

  I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not going to say anything, I’m not here to argue or discuss what ifs.”

  Hell, I didn’t really even want to talk to him anymore. I folded my arms and turned my focus toward the floor. David did the same. We would never be friends again. For whatever reason, he was single again, and I hoped it had been as ego crushing as finding out he had been cheating on me.

  My time with David was an excruciating long five minutes.

  The next guy had the unfortunate position of being after David. I barely remember anything about him except he had cats. I spend most of my time fuming about David. Tattoo boy was next. From what I could see, he was covered from his knuckles to his neck. I didn’t mind tattoos, but it was the only memorable thing about him.

  When the buzzer sounded, I noticed the next guy was big. Like, football player big. He had thick shoulders about a mile wide. When I stepped in front of him, a huge smile crossed his handsome face, exposing incredibly white teeth. He had naturally tan skin, his brown hair was long to his shoulders and in dreads. His features made me think he was part Pacific Islander, Samoan or Hawaiian. He had a wide mouth, and a straight nose that was slightly on the wide side. His jaw was incredibly square. Then I looked at his eyes, and felt all the blood leave my body. The same brow line, the same color and shape, they were Peter’s eyes.

  I felt tears sting my own, and I gasped out his name. “Peter.” My hand flew to my mouth as I realized what I had done. I was so embarrassed. I had just called this incredibly good looking guy who in no way resembled Peter Keith, except for the eyes, Peter.

  “Hi, Gilligan.” He smiled then reached forward and bopped me on the nose. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  I know my jaw dropped open. I was speechless. Tears escaped my eyes.

  “My name is Brand.” He nodded. “But, um. I remember you. I remember everything from my life as Peter.”

  I stared at him. “Brand.” I could barely whisper. But it was Peter with a different face and body. “How?”

  He looked at the watch on his wrist. His forearms rippled with muscle, bands of patterned tattoos circled his arm. Peter, I mean Brand, was huge, all muscle. He had to be a body builder.

  “We’re almost out of time. Meet me out front when this is over?”

  The buzzer sounded while I nodded.

  I reluctantly shifted to the next guy. I kept looking back at Peter. Brand. I had to think of him as Brand. It was him. Every cell in my body recognized him—my brain was having a hard time catching up.

  My date repeated something urgently.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I had not been paying attention.

  “Are you okay? You’re crying. Did that jerk say something to you to upset you? Should I report him?” I sat across from a nice guy, he seemed genuinely concerned.

  “No, no, I’m fine. Turns out we both have a mutual friend who died.” I waved my hand trying to dry up my tears. “Unexpected memories, nothing more.”

  I glanced back at Brand when it was time to move again. I ended up at the empty table. That was fine. It gave me an opportunity to stare at a small section of his shoulder, all that I could see from this angle. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to finish this. I started counting the men. I had three more five minute dates after this. Fifteen minutes before I’d be able to talk to Brand again.

  The buzzer sounded, and I shifted again. I introduced myself, my date did the same, his name was David. I began babbling.

  “I’m sure you’ve already heard this tonight, but you’re the second David I’ve talked to. I used to date the other one. Until then, he was the only David I can remember having met. After we started dating, I started to meet a lot of guys named David. I’m guessing it�
��s just I was all of a sudden aware of the name. Do you meet a lot of people with the same name? I’ve never met anyone with my name before. It’s a family name so it’s not exactly on any baby name lists. As a kid, I could never find those souvenirs with my name on it. They always had David, so I bet you got lots of those as a kid since you could find your name.”

  From the expression on David number two’s face, I must have prattled on nonstop the entire time. The next five minutes were passed in boring tedium as I was the one stuck pretending to listen as the guy across from me babbled on. I guess it was instant karmic payback. He either talked about networked video games or work. I wasn’t really certain, but I did hear the word server several times. Maybe he wasn’t talking about computers at all but waitresses and waiters. I didn’t pay attention. Peter, Brand, was right over there, and I had to play nice before I could talk to him again.

  One last date. These five minutes were longer than the time I spent with my ex, David. I admitted to the guy across from me that I either talked too much or didn’t pay enough attention. He barely spoke at all. I ended up spending the last few minutes staring at the floor and chewing my thumbnail in awkward silence waiting for the buzzer. As soon as it sounded, I made for the door. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I was on the other side of it. I wanted to pound on Peter for abandoning me, because that’s what it still felt like. I also wanted to jump into his arms and hold him and kiss him. I still loved him.

  I beat Brand outside by eight pacing steps. He walked out the door and stood there. I stared at him. He was bigger now. Brand was not only wide through the shoulders, he was much taller than Peter had been. I didn’t say anything. Everything I wanted to say, everything I thought about in the past fifteen minutes, it was all gone. He was Peter—I could feel it in my bones. Everything about him, except his outward appearance, was Peter.

  He took a small step toward me. “Gil.” His voice was soft, and I lost it. I threw myself into his arms sobbing. It felt familiar and foreign all at once.

  “You left me,” I managed to say between gulping for air.

  “I didn’t mean to. This happened, and it took so much longer than I thought it would.”

  I pushed back to look at him. I stepped away and he leaned against the wall. I hugged myself. He glanced up and down the hall, to see if it was clear.

  “What happened?” I asked, my voice small, barely able to escape my throat.

  “My name is Brandon Paulo, until six months ago I was a professional football player. One day I took a hit and flat lined on the practice field. They said I suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

  Holly rushed through the door. “There you are, Gil. I was looking for.… Oh hi… you’re Brand, right?” She looked from him to me a few times. “Oh, you two are, okay.” She turned to me, “I’ll just be inside when you’re ready to go.” She then mouthed ‘bring him for drinks,’ before she went back into the meeting room.

  Brand nodded. “I always thought Holly was nice. Especially when she brought you soup when you were sick.”

  My eyes started leaking like crazy, not that I wasn’t already on the verge of crying again. But he had confirmed something that the only people who knew where Holly, myself, and my ghost.

  “Oh my God, Peter.” I covered my mouth again. I was in shock.

  “It’s been a wild recovery. I don’t know how I woke up in this body, and I don’t really know what happened to Brandon. I’m not joking when I say I remember everything from being Peter. That includes you. Your hair’s grown out a bit. I like it.”

  He kept his distance. But he looked like a big cat coiled and ready to pounce. “This body suffers from retrograde amnesia. More of Brandon’s memories are coming back, and I can remember things once someone has reminded me about them. I’m still missing big chunks of Brand’s past, my past.” He paused, holding his hands out in supplication. “I have so much to make up to you, and Holly is in there waiting for you. Can I call you sometime, so we can talk?”

  I nodded. I was perfectly willing to stay here in the hallway and listen to him for hours.

  “I want to show you something.” Brand began unbuttoning his shirt. I got glimpses of an incredibly well-defined chest and warm caramel skin. He unbuttoned about half the buttons, and then he pulled the shirt to expose the flesh of his left shoulder and pectoral. The combination of physique and what he showed me made all moisture leave my mouth.

  Tattooed across his shoulder and covering a good portion of the left side of his chest was a tiger prowling through a stand of bamboo. The work was beautifully executed and had an Asian look to it. He clearly had had the tattoo for quite a while as some of the colors were faded. I tentatively reached forward to touch it. I paused as I realized what I was doing. I was about to reach out and caress this man’s tattooed chest. Technically, he was still a stranger, even though he was Peter. I pulled my hand back and bit my thumbnail.

  “I always thought a tiger suited you,” I laughed. “I’ve got something to show you too.”

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a slightly bent copy of the first Tails from the Urban Jungle. I carried one with me most of the time to show off.

  “I made Johnny Urban a were-tiger after you left.” I flipped through the book, then opened it wide to the page I was looking for. Spread across two pages was a full color illustration of a blond man with exceptionally broad shoulders and a very similar tiger tattoo across half of his chest. I handed Brand the book.

  He held it reverently. “You did it. This is awesome, Gilligan. Shit, I always knew you were really good.” He smiled as he flipped through the book. He began reading the back cover, “Denver’s story telling ranks her among the grandfathers of American twentieth century sci-fi adventure, William Powers Stapleton and Edgar Rice Burroughs. Johnny Urban is a modern hero that joins the ranks of Flash Gordon, Sebastian Hale, and Tarzan.”

  His mouth hung open a little when his gaze returned to my face.

  “Keep it.” I nodded, turning my focus to my phone. “Okay, what’s your phone number?” I programmed his number in, then immediately called him. He programmed my number into his phone too. “You are going to call me tonight.” It wasn’t a question, we needed to continue this conversation, but he was right, I was keeping Holly waiting.

  “A few more things you need to know, ’cause I know as soon as you and Holly get to your margaritas, you’re going to look me up online. I don’t want you finding this out from the internet okay. So like, I’m from a kind of family that’s done stuff. My father was an Olympic runner and was on cereal boxes, and my sister is some kind of dancer in the movies.”

  I nodded. Okay, so he came with some celebrity credit. I would have to figure out how to deal with that later, right now, I had to deal with Peter, Brand, being here.

  “There’s more. I have a five year old son. His name is Devon. His mother and I aren’t together. We were never married. She seems like a nice person, she lets me see him, and she showed me his baby pictures while I was in the hospital to help me remember. She’s married now, so our relationship is only because of Devon. He’s a pretty amazing kid. I didn’t want you to find that out and start making up wild stories in your head like you do.”

  I bit my nail and nodded at him. He knew me. I pulled the door open and was stepping through.

  “One more thing, Gillian, I’m still in love with you.”

  I felt the air leave my lungs. Peter had crappy timing. I stood inside the door. It swung shut behind me. Peter finally admitted to being in love with me. After all this time, he finally said the words. I pushed back through the door. He was walking down the hall.

  I called after him, “If you don’t call me tonight, I’ll kill you all over again, Peter Keith!”

  He smiled at me. It was broad and full of gleaming white teeth.

  Brand called me two hours after I met him. He said he waited as long as he could, giving Holly and me time to have wings and beer. We were still at the bar when he called.
I called him back as soon as I got home. I tried not to rush through my evening with Holly, but I wanted, no, I needed to talk to Brand. After a very long phone conversation, I knew he was Peter. All doubts were gone, not that I had any.

  22

  We met the next day for a very long lunch date. When I arrived at the arranged restaurant, he had a bouquet of mixed flowers for me. I think he was the first man to bring me flowers. I sat and he talked. I could hardly believe he came back, but here he was, and he wanted me. He never meant to abandon me. I didn’t know if I should trust him or not. But it was hard keeping him at a distance. I had missed him so much, and I still loved him equally as much.

  He mentioned all the ways he let me down. I didn’t have to tell him, he knew. He wanted to make it all up to me. He even brought up helping me develop the story concept of the psychic girl who saw messages in the hair on the tub wall. He said everything I desperately needed to hear. He couldn’t get into my head any more, this proved to me he had been paying attention.

  My plans were to slowly ease back into a relationship with him. I invited him over to meet Mike, and to hang out the next Sunday. I was going to have to figure out when he could meet Trina. She wasn’t going to believe this. Then again, I might not tell her who he was. Of course I would, I was thinking crazy for a minute.

  I had thought Brand was big but he was even bigger once he was inside, confined by walls and a ceiling. He seemed even taller and broader in an enclosed space. He moved through the condo as if he had been there before. I knew he had as Peter, but it was disconcerting to actually see him physically there, even if it was in a different body.

  He helped me with my Sunday grocery shopping, and now sat on his usual stool as I did my food prep for the week.

  “If you tell me what to do, I can help,” he said leaning over the counter. He even tried to look down my shirt, like always.

  I glared at him. The best part of that was that I could actually see him. My glare didn’t last long before it turned into a grin.

 

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