“Jason is from Toronto. He’s been modeling about three years, and he’s roughly six one, brown eyes.”
“All right.” I wrapped my arms around myself.
“He has a little scar on the right hand.” He showed the top of his knuckles.
“Okay, okay, you’ve proven your point.”
“I’ll even give you his shoe size.”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” I gave him a sarcastic smile.
“So how do you know?”
“Oh … that he found greener pastures?” he responded, and I looked at him flatly. He cleared his throat before saying, “I saw him walk out with a saucy brunette.” He squinted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He was afraid of my reaction. Maybe he thought I would break down and cry, but that was the last response Jason deserved.
“Wait, you mean he was here—inside the bar?”
“For a good half hour, aye.”
Bastard!
I had always suspected Jason was brushing me off for someone else. He wasn’t discreet about the way he looked at other women when I was around. Or how, when we arrived at the same event, he would ignore me, hiding the fact we were a couple, to appear to be single. I knew all this, but it still hurt, even though I’d allowed it to happen.
“Oh, I would have loved to catch that …”
“Dipshit.” He finished my sentence. “Trust me, if I had known it was Jason you were waiting for, I would have approached you sooner.” I was taken aback. I imagined that he was the type who wouldn’t have a hard time approaching any girl, so why was he so hesitant with me?
“So, have you been watching me this whole time?”
“No,” he said matter-of-factly, disposing his cigarette in the nearby trash. “Not the whole time. If I had been watching you relentlessly, then you would have had bigger issues than a stolen purse.”
“Wait a minute, did you take it?” I had been so furious with Jason I hadn’t seen who was sitting next to me—maybe it was him.
“Your purse?” He gave a low laugh. “You’re a funny bird.” He studied me for a second. “Sorry, love, I’m not that kind of man. I never take what doesn’t belong to me. But you can be damn sure I’m the type that would kick the arse of whoever stole your purse.”
Well, there I go putting my foot in my mouth.
I wasn’t pro-violence, but it was sure sexy for a man to come to a woman’s defense—even if it was just in words.
“So, why didn’t you come over and talk?” I looked at him with curiosity. “Instead of swooping in at the right time.”
He chuckled.
“Yeah … nah … you’re right. I should have.” He smiled and shoved his hands into his front pockets.
“So,” he said after a short moment. “What are we doing? I need to be somewhere in the next twenty minutes, and there’s no way I’m leaving you out here alone.”
I didn’t know what I should do, but I wanted to forget my problems. I loved the city, but it had a way of cracking you open, seducing you with its lights, making you fall in love with its possibilities, before it disillusioned you. This town could exasperate even the most wholehearted dreamer.
Arrivederci … sayonara … so long, New York!
I just had to make sure the door didn’t hit me on the way out. If I stayed any longer, it would. I thought about my purse—no point in making a police report. I figured I’d cancel my credit cards first thing in the morning. All I wanted to do was get back to my cluttered apartment and forget tonight had ever happened.
“What are you doing?” He watched me wave my hand in the air. Down the street, I spotted a yellow car headed in our direction.
“What does it look like? I’m going home.”
“But you need money to pay for that cab.” He pulled out his wallet.
“Thanks, but you helped me enough and I don’t want to trouble you any further.” I turned and caught sight of the cab slowly easing up to the curb. “I’ll … pay him when—ugh, shit!” I put my hands over my eyes.
“What?” he asked.
“My keys … were in the purse, and my roommate is out of town. I won’t be able to get into my apartment until she comes back on Sunday,” I said, looking at him through the cracks of my fingers.
He gently sucked the air between his teeth. “You’ve got your night cut out for you, love. Is there anyone you can call that can help you out?”
“I do, but …”
“Ah, right, your phone was also in there—gotcha.” He handed me his cell. Then he wandered past me and told the cab driver I’d changed my mind.
I didn’t really know anyone in New York. Besides Jason, Gloria was my only hope. I dialed her number, and when she answered I heard the music and laughter in the background.
Gloria was always doing something cool. Her job as a freelance stylist had scored her name on the list of many high-profile parties in New York, and her lavish lifestyle had fueled my dreams even more. But I knew no one got there easy; it took hard work and persistence to achieve your goals. I’ve been wondering if I had given up on mine too soon. When I hung up with Gloria, the stranger wandered back.
“So where can I take you?” he asked as I gave his phone back.
How did my problem become his?
“I’ll crash at my friend’s apartment, but I need to get the keys from her.” At first, I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just say it was my cousin. Maybe I didn’t want him to know I had a hard time making friends in this city.
“Okay, so let’s go.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? I don’t want to ruin the rest of your night,” I said.
“You have ruined nothing. If anything, you’ve made it … interesting.” He had a nice smile. The kind that could melt away walls—perhaps even mine.
“It’s all right. I can find my way to the Bryant Hotel. It’s not far.” Geez, I hoped.
He thought about it for a minute. “By chance are you headed to the Nylon magazine party?”
“Yeah, how did you know? It’s a party held for a cocky photographer who won an award or something.”
“Cocky? Really?” He smirked.
“They say he’s the next big thing, like a young version of Mario Testino.” I hitched my thumb at my shoulder, trying to scoop the strap of my purse until I remembered there was nothing there. He was making me nervous, the way he was staring at me.
“Huh, really?” His mouth went up on the sides. What was I missing?
“Well, I don’t know. I never met the guy.” I shrugged.
“Who’s your friend?” He lit another cigarette. I guessed he was in no rush to go anywhere.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know her.” I shake my head.
“Try me,”
“Gloria … Gloria Ericson.”
“Huh, you’re right. I don’t.” His expression was flat, but his eyes said something else, which had me confused. “Let me give you a ride. I’m headed that way,” he said.
“No, it’s all right. I will walk.” I said self-consciously, moving away. “Thank you for your help,” I said, over my shoulder.
“Hold on. It’s forty-five minutes … but this way.” He pointed his thumb in the opposite direction.
“Oh.” I was a complete idiot. I wouldn’t know my way around this city even if I’d lived there a lifetime.
“Are you always this stubborn? Now listen, love. I’d be crazy to allow you to wander off somewhere, the back of Bourke with no phone or money.” He motioned with his hand down the street.
“Bourke? Do you mean Brooklyn? Aren’t we in Manhattan?” I was kidding; of course I knew where I was, but he slightly shook his head in disbelief.
“I meant some remote place.”
“Oh, sure.” My voice went up.
“Yeah, I think I would feel better if I personally got you home, safely. Anyhow, let’s face it, you wouldn’t get far in those shoes, legs.” I looked down at my four-inch red patent stilettos. He had a point.
“How do I know
I won’t be in more danger going anywhere with you?”
“True, but I’ll get my ass kicked if Gloria finds out I left you alone and stranded.”
“So you do know Gloria?”
“I know everyone,” he winked.
But you don’t know me, I thought.
“I’m not ashamed to say it but Gloria Ericson scares the shit out of me.” He chuckled.
He definitely knew my cousin; she could have that effect on people. You didn’t want to mess with Gloria, and I’d gotten the scars to prove it. When we were kids, I’d once decapitated her Malibu Barbie. Let’s just say I never touched her toys again.
“You’re two for two … All right, I’ll allow you to drive me, but only because your life depends on it.”
“How thoughtful of you.” He brought his hand to his chest and gave me a slight bow. I followed him up the street, and of course his choice of transportation was a two-wheeler.
“I’m Simon, by the way,” he said when we stopped in front of his motorcycle. He held out his hand for me to take.
“Mable,” I replied, shaking his hand.
“Mable.” I liked how he said it, especially with his deep, gruff voice. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone with that name.”
“Well, more of a reason not to forget me after tonight.” I said, laughing. His eyes glanced at me, like a man who looks at a woman with desire.
“Oh, you’re anything but forgettable, love.” He paused. “But I don’t remember Gloria ever mentioning you before.”
“Well, Gloria is a private person.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it.”
Before I could ask any more questions, he handed me the extra helmet—it made me believe there might be a significant other in his life, even though he was alone tonight.
“All right, Mable, have you ever been on a bike?”
I looked down at the black matte motorcycle, which had as much sex appeal as its owner. If I was honest, I wasn’t sure which one made me more nervous. “No, it’s my first time.”
“Ah, a virgin,” he said playfully. I hadn’t been a virgin for the past three years, but somehow he still made me blush.
“Well, I have two rules. One, you have to be in sync with my movements. You lean in when I do.” He smirked, watching me struggle with my helmet, and took matters into his own hands by strapping the helmet down for me. “Two, watch out for the exhaust pipes; they get hot fast, and I wouldn’t want you to burn those beautiful legs of yours.” He winked.
I felt the blood rush from my neck to my face. “Don’t worry. I insured my best feature.” I smirked.
He glanced at me. “Oh, you’ve got a great pair of legs, but they’re not your best feature.”
“They’re not?” My eyebrows gathered together.
“No. Your eyes … and smile.” There he went again—got me blushing like a schoolgirl.
“So, do I look like a bobblehead?” My head was feeling like it was twice its size.
“Well, I don’t know much about that,” he said, strapping on his helmet.
“Come on, say it, you know I’m rocking it.” I gave him my cutest pose while batting my eyelashes.
“Yeah, sure—you’re rocking it.” He let out a short laugh. Only when I took my place behind him did he lean back into me and say, “I’m surprised; I would have never guessed Jason was your type.”
“Oh yeah? And what would be my type?” I said over the loud noise of the revved-up engine.
“Me,” he said, grinning wide and sexy. Maybe he was trying to get me to smile, but sweet Jesus, I was very tempted to take a bite out of that apple. I needed to be on my way before this night got any crazier.
“Are you really with that idiot?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Yeah, I thought so. He doesn’t deserve you—a smart bird like you can do so much better.”
What could I have replied? My mind was in this zone of complete, utter fever. The sweet smell of his cologne rising from his cotton shirt was making my body feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“You could wrap your arms around me. I promise I don’t bite,” he said.
Nope, couldn’t argue with that. One look at his smile, his sultry gaze, and I was back in the game. I willingly pressed my body up against his back, under the bright lights, in this city I had called home for a short time. Then we drove off, disappearing into the darkness— from the view of anyone who might have been watching us.
“Thanks for getting me here in one piece.” I handed back his helmet, knowing this was goodbye.
“No worries.”
I stood there, close enough to see the downcast look in his eyes, and I knew something was brewing. For some unknown reason, I was the one to break away from the gaze. I had never felt this nervous.
“Well, I better go,” I said. To my surprise, he got off his bike, hooking the head protectors to the back of the seat. He took a slow, deep breath as his eyes ran up the length of the black brick building, then descended back to mine. Something seemed to have changed since we’d left The Little Orange, like he had forced himself to come all this way. One thing was for sure; the man was a mystery. Too bad he’s not mine to solve.
“Let me walk you in?” His eyes held mine for a beating moment.
“Okay.” My voice squeaked. I should have said goodbye and been on my way. Why couldn’t I let this go? Sure, there was some unexplained gravitation pulling me to him, making me wonder if there was something else. I hated myself for wanting to read more into this than there was … that’s what always got me into trouble. I knew at this point it was not love—just raw attraction. But there was a question that kept crossing my mind every time I met someone new—the what if. What if he were my red thread? The myth that attaches two people: no matter the circumstances—the thread will knot, twist and bend, but never break. No matter what, we were meant to be lovers. I knew this was a long shot, but it was always nice to hope.
Inside, just off the lobby, was the entrance to the Cellar Bar. But when I got to the top of the staircase, I paused. If I had had any inclination that tonight would involve descending so many steps, I would have chosen a pair of flats instead of my stilettos. Simon shot me a glance like he must have read my mind.
“Are you okay getting down on your own?”
Before I could answer, he slipped his hand into mine, offering support as we descended. I didn’t even flinch. I welcomed it like it was the most natural thing. The velvety multicolor leather bands he wore around his wrist lightly brushed against my skin—such an insignificant thing, but it caused such friction inside me, and suddenly I wanted more. Even though Simon was a stranger, I knew just one smile from him would disarm me, relinquish any small doubt still pegged at the back of my mind. As we took each step down, I could feel his warm eyes burning on me. I knew if I looked at him there was something I would see on his face. Maybe we both wanted something to happen—or continue—I don’t know. The only sure thing I knew was that I shouldn’t be ready for it, because the logical side of me told me I was in the midst of a kerfuffle. I was planning to leave the city. So why bother to start something you couldn’t finish?
But the other half of me waited desperately for this moment to pass, to pick up the pace. I didn’t want to behave the way I should. Every molecule in my body wanted him to pin me up against the wall. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to see him again.
At the last step, I knew this wouldn’t play out.
Inside, the décor had the allure of a grand reception hall within the walls of a Gothic castle, but it was nifty enough for me not to dislike it. My eyes scattered over the heads of people who were dancing to the tune coming from the DJ in the corner.
“Did you spot your friend?” he asked, letting go of my hand, only leaving me further disappointed. I looked up; he was now standing much closer than I had expected. At least this way I could try to read his lips. With the loud music and the excitement that the night had brought, my brain was in state of exhaustion, m
aking it difficult to stay focused.
“I know. I’m late,” he said, but not to me. I followed his eyes to find Gloria walking closer to where we stood. Her expression was flat, almost matching her hairstyle, slicked back and tied into a ponytail. She wore a button-down navy silk shirt and white tailored pants, a charcoal knitted top knotted around her waist. Only Gloria could pull that off, making something simple look so chic and indispensable. I guess that’s why everyone in New York wanted to work with her.
“Hey, what happened? Are you all right?” Gloria looked puzzled, her eyes darting from me to Simon and back again.
“Yeah, I got my purse stolen, along with everything I owned.”
“Shit, that sucks,” Gloria said, her eyes never leaving Simon.
“Simon was nice enough to help me.” I felt I needed to clarify, but I wasn’t sure what to make of Gloria’s straight face.
“So you guys know each other?” I asked, but what I wanted to know was how they were connected.
“We work together.” He was quick to say. That’s when it hit me.
“Oh … Simon Rowe?” I let out, and he nodded. “So you’re the up-and-coming photographer.” I glanced at him. “But you’re not what I imagined.”
“Up-and-coming?” He frowned.
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“Cocky?” Simon playfully narrowed his eyes at Gloria. “What have you been telling her about me?”
“Only good things.” Gloria waved him off.
“Ah, well, I’ve added that part in,” I said, intertwining my fingers together. “I mean, I’ve only known you, what? About an hour?” I glanced at my watch. “Who am I to judge?”
“You’re drowning.” He let out a laugh.
“Anyhow, being cocky is not a bad thing, you know? Some girls even find that attractive,” I said, and this piqued his curiosity.
“And what about you?” He radiated interest, but in me?
“Um, well, not really.” I gave him a sideways smile.
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you find out for yourself—hang out with me a little longer? A drink at the bar?” Simon was staring at me.
Lyrical Lights Page 2