by Alice Ward
The sour way he said it twisted my heart. Things needed to end. At that point, I wanted them to end, and I knew that, even if he wasn’t pleased with it then, he would be someday soon. But, damn, it still hurt.
I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said stiffly, and I had no clue what that meant. Yeah, what? He was sorry too? Or he couldn’t give less of a fuck?
Either way, the conversation was over.
“Bye,” I murmured. The door clicked softly behind me.
CHAPTER SIX
Evie smiled smugly at me from across the table.
“Okay,” I spat. “You can stop now.”
She only grinned wider. “I’m just so happy for you.”
“Well, I’m not.” My shoulders slumped forward, and I stirred the thin black straw in my mojito. The tapas bar bustled with activity around us, so full that I’d decided it probably safest to wait until the dinner rush was over to even attempt to go to the bathroom. If I happened to trip and fall down, I’d be stampeded by the hipster waiters and the high heeled gaggles of women they were serving.
“You’re free,” Evie sang out. “Free! Free! Free!”
“I know, and it’s what I wanted.”
“It’s where you were headed.”
I nodded. “It was inevitable, but it still sucks.”
Evie shook her head, her hoop earrings swaying. “See, this is what can happen. You go for some guy who you know isn’t right for you, but because you jump in, you end up getting attached anyway. It’s happened to me more than once, and that’s why I’m careful now. You gotta watch yourself. I know we’re supposed to be sexually liberated women and all, but that doesn’t mean we can ignore the ways we innately tick.”
“Ugh,” I spat in agreement. “You’re right. Why are we that way? What’s with that?”
She shrugged. “Biology? Human nature? Though I guess those are, like, the same thing. I don’t know. All I know is that you’re better off without Derek What’s-His-Name. Now you can finally move on.” She pumped her eyebrows up and down. “You can call up the other What’s-His-Name. The hot one.”
“Cristiano?”
“Is there anyone else?”
“No,” I sighed, and warmth filled my belly. “Not when they’re being compared to him.”
“So what are you waiting for? Blaire, the second you sleep with someone else, you’ll be over Derek like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Remember? It’s biology,” she slurred slightly.
“I can’t.”
“Because it’s too soon?”
“Yes,” I immediately said, choosing to share only one of the reasons I couldn’t.
Her eyes narrowed. “And why else?”
“Why are you psychic now? When did this happen?”
“You’re clearly ga-ga for Cristiano, so I just don’t get why you’re not halfway to his place right now.”
“B-because,” I sputtered. “It wouldn’t be... professional.”
“Oh, whatever. No one at that orphanage cares. Is there some sort of policy that volunteers can’t date each other or something?”
I scowled at her. “No, of course not.”
“So stop making excuses.”
“And, if you’re speaking about biology and attachment and whatever, well, what if I end up getting super attached to Cristiano and then it doesn’t work out? That’ll suck.”
“Hm.” Evie leaned down to sip her cocktail. “Maybe. But for me, that would be a chance worth taking.”
I stared at her dubiously. “You don’t think I need some time to get over Derek? We broke up today. Pursuing someone else would be—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t say sleazy. Don’t do that to yourself. You’re a human being with needs. And Mr. Basic didn’t do it for you so, you know...”
She stuck her tongue out and then started to say something else, but I interrupted her.
“Okay, okay.” I dropped my face in my hands, then peeked at her between my fingers. “Never mind. I think I need some time.” I stared at the bar’s window past Evie’s shoulder. Headlights from the congested traffic out there pierced the darkness. There were so many people in the world... so many people in just Chicago.
Had I really been wasting my time with Derek? Even though I already missed him, and I thought I would for a while, it sure did feel like going back to him would be a major mistake.
“But I also need to move on,” I muttered. “I just don’t know that I should try doing that with Cristiano. He’s...” I sucked in a sharp breath. “He’s… wow.”
Evie tapped her nails on the table. “Intimidating? Well, you’ll never know what could have been if you don’t try.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. I hadn’t told her about our meeting in the coffee shop, thanks to a bit of shame about sneaking around with him.
“Did you talk about the roses when you saw him at the orphanage?”
“A little bit. He seemed kind of regretful.”
“Please... only because you seemed unhappy about it. If you’d gushed about them, he would have been over the moon.”
I pursed my lips, knowing I’d be an idiot to deny such an idea. “Yeah, he’s pretty slick. I’ve got that much figured out. He knows how to work it. He’s already made a fortune, and he’s only a few years older than us.”
“Mmm,” Evie cooed like she was looking at a delicious piece of steak.
Cristiano Leventis... the man did more than just haunt my dreams. In a very short amount of time, he’d bought out nearly all the real estate in my brain. I thought about him night and day, like it or not. I knew I should have felt awful, breaking up with one man that day and thinking about getting with another that night, but all of my other feelings pushed that guilt down. I burned to know the feel of Cristiano’s naked body against mine, to hear his whispered words in my ear, and to taste his tongue in my mouth.
Even if my biology, as Evie put it, turned on me. Even if it made going to the orphanage awkward. Even if other pressing reasons screwed things up for us.
I’d begun not even caring about the potential consequences.
So what if it all crashed and burned? At least I wouldn’t have to go through the next fifty or sixty years of life beating myself up for not going for it with him. At least I could say I’d taken a shot.
I needed to stop thinking about it so much. I needed to just do.
“Okay,” I nodded. “I’m going for it.”
Evie squealed. “Call him right now.”
“What? No.”
“Just do it. Quick. Before you lose your nerve.”
“No. I need time to think... to... formulate a plan. If I call him right now, I’ll say something awkward and screw it all up.”
She looked at me dumbly. “He’s a guy. You really don’t need to take the time to write him a poem. Send him a text like, hey you wanna Netflix and chill? He’ll get the hidden meaning. Or, even if it’s not there, he’ll put it there.” She winked.
I licked my bottom lip and tasted the matte lipstick there. “I know that. I want it to be... you know, romantic. He’s that way. He sent me roses, for God’s sake.”
Evie’s eyes grew bigger. “Ooh, okay. That’s true, he did do that. So, now I’m excited! What are you thinking?”
I heaved out a long breath. “Well, I have one idea...”
***
I cut the car’s air conditioning and rolled my window down instead. Even having the AC on its lowest setting made the interior a bit too chilly. The fresh air coming in through the open window was perfect. It whipped my hair around, making little pieces of it stick to my face. I slowed down as I approached a stoplight, coming to stop next to a few trees full of pink blossoms. Their sweet scent filled my car, making me feel infinitely better than I had just a few seconds before.
Two days had passed since I called the flower delivery service. It had seemed like a great idea at the time — so much better than texting or calling Cristiano myself. As of two days ago, he probably
still felt like his sending me roses had been questionable and awkward. With my sending him a thank you note attached to a spring bouquet, he’d hopefully get the hint that I was now seeing his actions as positive.
Do women send men flowers? I wondered. Is that a thing?
I decided it didn’t matter and took the turn onto my street. Either he would call me or he wouldn’t. There was nothing else to it and no reason to fuss. Whatever happened, the sun would still rise and set. We would all go about our business as usual. I would see him at the orphanage... and just try to look the other way. I had a life. Things to do, places to be.
I chewed on my bottom lip. Two days. Was that normal? Hadn’t the guy on the phone promised me they would send the delivery out the very next day? Maybe Cristiano was playing it cool and just giving it some time before he responded.
Chill. I needed to chill. Think about something else. Anything else.
Like finding a parking spot.
I navigated into my building’s underground garage and found a space near the elevator. Before climbing from the car, I took a quick look at the time. Eleven-ten.
I sighed. The days were long. Too long.
Or maybe that was just when you were waiting around wondering whether a guy was going to bite at your fishing line or not.
I grabbed my fringe purse and did a quick sweep of the parking garage. As far as they went, it was probably one of the safest ones in Chicago, but I knew better than to walk into any deserted area without scoping out the space first.
I tried to formulate a plan for the day as I rode the elevator up to my floor. I needed to call Michael, Evie’s cousin. He’d said he might have a job for me, but his voice message hadn’t offered much else, and I was left wondering just what this new job might be. Since Michael and I went way back, I trusted his judgment when it came to helping me find work, and I couldn’t live off dad’s insurance money forever. And my latest job was practically over.
What else could I do with my day?
There was the gym. Although it was so beautiful out it would be a shame to waste any time inside.
I could run around the park. I could even run to it since it was just a mile or so away.
Working out. Running errands. Cleaning the apartment. The occasional meeting. Hanging with Evie. Each day was still the same, except now I had even more time to fill without Derek in my life. The only thing that promised to punctuate the routine was a half day spent at the orphanage, and my next volunteer shift was still a couple days away.
I closed and locked my apartment’s front door behind me then tossed my purse on the couch. I needed more hobbies. Yes, that was it. I needed more hobbies, ones that didn’t involve exercise or pursuing the opposite sex.
A buzzing started from in my purse, and then my ringtone blared. I sucked in a sharp breath and leaped for the couch. I landed in a kind of awkward twisted position on the end cushion. The phone kept on ringing, getting dangerously closer and closer to the point where it would cut off.
Don’t get your hopes up, don’t get your hopes up. It’s probably the landlord calling to remind me about rent.
Sadly, my landlord had a habit of making monthly reminder calls, like his tenants were likely to get confused about whether it was the end of the month or not.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself. I frantically tore open my purse and whipped the phone out.
Cristiano. It was Cristiano calling.
Deep breath in...
Deep breath out...
But since I also didn’t have any time to waste, I swiped the answer button while practicing my Zen breath work.
“Hello?” I said, my voice sounding annoyingly high. I bit my lip, wishing I could suck the word right back through the line.
“Hi, Blaire,” came Cristiano’s smooth answer, in that beautifully deep tone that warmed my entire being. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” I paused, realized I held in a breath, and then let it go before continuing. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you. I received a lovely bouquet yesterday.”
“Oh, really?” I asked in what I hoped was my coyest voice. “That’s nice to hear.”
The slightest chuckle, so low and short it almost wasn’t there, came over the line. “It... surprised me.”
My mouth went dry. I was no good at flirting. I’d gotten through a parent’s death. I’d survived boot camp. Active duty in Afghanistan. But talking sweet with a man? I’d done a little bit of dirty talk in bed before, but flirting over the phone was something entirely different. Just thinking about trying to do it made me feel awkward.
“Uh,” I offered, then winced.
Cristiano plunged on, seeming not to notice my hesitation. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Tonight?” I repeated, feeling like one of those flustered geeky girls in a rom-com. You know, the stereotypical heroine that hasn’t had a boyfriend in years and is best friends with her cat.
“There’s a meteor shower tonight. It will be hard to see in the city, but if you were to drive out a bit and get to the right spot, it should prove worthwhile.”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely interested. “I haven’t seen a meteor shower in... I don’t know. That’s cool. I didn’t even know there was one tonight.”
“Would you like to go?”
My heart fluttered. A date. This sounded like a date. And not just any old movie and dinner date. Cristiano was asking me out to do something actually exciting, something I would even do on my own. Ironically, it was just the kind of thing I’d always tried to get Derek to do.
“I would love to go,” I breathlessly responded.
“Great. I can pick you up if you like. How about around eight?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Eight is great.” Now I’m rhyming? What is wrong with me?
He chuckled, the sound making me close my eyes. “Wonderful. See you then.”
“Okay,” I rasped. “Bye.”
I quickly hung up, so excited and nervous I couldn’t even handle another second on the line with him.
I dropped the phone on the couch and noticed my hands were shaking. Giddy. I was giddy. Thrilled, really. So thrilled I was having symptoms similar to shock or an all-out mental breakdown.
Clothes. I had to figure out what to wear.
But first I needed to text Evie. Or call Evie. Yes, definitely call her. This news was way too exciting to share in a text.
And shower. I needed to shower. And what about dinner? Did I need to have dinner before Cristiano picked me up? Probably, since he wasn’t coming until eight. Or maybe he ate late, like they did in Europe. Cristiano would be alternative like that.
Okay, I needed to stop thinking. I was thinking way too much.
But wait... did I need to bring anything? A blanket? A telescope?
“Chill,” I told myself out loud. I didn’t even own a telescope, so that was out of the question. I laughed, briefly imagining myself going out and blowing a thousand dollars from my savings account on one and then lugging it out to the backseat of Cristiano’s car, all while acting like I’d had it sitting in my closet for ages. This is how into meteors I am, I’d tell him in an effort to impress.
With a little bit of work ignoring my thoughts, I finally calmed down. The shower and makeup part of getting ready went by easily. The clothing part didn’t. Hours later, I still stood in front of my bed, gazing down at one-third of my whole wardrobe.
Pants definitely. I needed to wear pants, though they weren’t the sexiest option out there. But we would be in a field in the middle of the night, and having a spider crawl up my skirt was also not a sexy option.
Bell bottoms were my go-to when it came to jeans, so I picked out the pair with a bit of bleach splayed over them. The bleach was artistically done, and so even though the pants were casual, they still looked pretty nice. To bring the outfit up a notch, I selected a dark blue button up shirt. A few long necklaces, each one sporting a crystal or a golden clover, completed the l
ook.
I was ready way before eight o’clock. I filled the time with doing some light cleaning, vacuuming the rugs and sweeping the kitchen floor though they didn’t really need it. When the possibility of breaking a sweat became real, I stopped and sat down on the couch, fanning myself with my hand so my makeup didn’t get slick and run.
But I couldn’t sit still. My shoes tapped against the floor, and my knee bobbed.
Am I doing the right thing?
I clenched my jaw. There it was. The thought I’d been trying to keep at bay all day long.
I was starting to get over the guilt of going out on a date so soon after breaking up with Derek. After all, I really did have feelings for him, and I’d broken up with Derek before actively pursuing anything else.
But there was the other issue that came with dating Cristiano. Was it professional?
No. Probably not.
More precisely, definitely not.
Things could get tricky, and fast.
I shook my head. But they just as easily couldn’t. And really, I would never be able to live with myself if I gave up this opportunity. Men like Cristiano Leventis came around once in a decade if you were lucky. If I shut him out fifty years from then, I’d be sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of the local nursing home swapping stories with the other old timers about the one that got away.
My door’s buzzer went off, and I shot up from the seat as if catapulted from a spring. No way in hell would I be lamenting about chances missed over a group knitting session.
“Hello?” I asked into the intercom.
“It’s Cristiano.”
Just the sound of his voice made me smile.
“Be right down,” I said, trying to make myself sound as elegant as possible.
Cristiano, Cristiano! His name played over and over in my head, the syllables twisting along with a beautiful melody as I grabbed my purse and light green army jacket. The evening air was likely still close to perfect, but there was still the chance of the temperature dropping as the night progressed.
Cristiano stood on the front stoop wearing tight dark jeans and a blue button-up that eerily matched my own.
“Wow,” I said as I pushed the building’s door open. “So you do dress down. I was really starting to think you worked out in dress shirts.”