by Claire Adams
“Antonio Pryor,” the man said. “It was my pleasure working with you. I better get back to my other clients now.”
“It really was my pleasure. I appreciate all your help. Two sets of eyes are indeed better than one.”
As he left the cubicle and made his way down the hallway, I felt Mattie’s eyes glaring into me. She had sat quietly working on her side of the cubicle all morning long, looking like she was about to explode on at least two occasions. She wasn’t used to actually doing her job for hours at a time without breaks to chit-chat.
“What is it?” I said before I even sat down.
“Okay, I’m not trying to be judgmental or anything,” she said right before she said something judgmental. “But does he really look like the kind of guy who likes to work with computers?”
“Mattie! People say that about me, too, and you know how much I hate it,” I said.
“I know, I’m not judging. He obviously was good at his job. I’m just saying he looked more like a hired hit man than an IT professional.”
“You know, I’m not going to have this conversation with you. Let’s get back to talking about what I should wear tonight on my date with Brandon.”
I had literally been thinking about Brandon since the last time I saw him. On a couple of occasions, I thought about texting him and then deleted my message and decided not to send it. My emotions were on edge about everything going on with him.
Love hadn’t been something I’d thought I was capable of after losing my husband. I could love my son, of course, that was a different sort of love than having a man around.
Even the few hours I’d spent with Brandon had started the process of opening my eyes to the possibilities that were out there. I didn’t have to make him my forever love, but just being with him was building up my confidence that someday I’d find love again. Maybe it would be him, or maybe it would be someone entirely different; I wasn’t going to worry about it. All I cared about was that I had happiness rushing through me again, and I wasn’t going to let it go just yet.
“You’re going to wear that red gown in your closet. I thought we had already had this conversation and made this decision. Don’t mess with perfection.”
“Ugh, that dress is so revealing. We are going to the theater, not a strip show.”
“Excuse me! That dress was my dress, and I wore it to my step-brother’s wedding.”
“That’s weird,” I teased her.
“The colors were black and red. It wasn’t weird. And, it barely shows any cleavage. I think your definition of revealing and mine are totally different. Plus, you had a string bikini on already around him; I think any dress is going to be a step up.”
“Yeah, I did,” I smiled as I thought back to our little swim out to the island. “That bikini doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I probably shouldn’t have agreed to that whole swimming on the first date thing.”
“Yes, you should have agreed, and you did. For once, you need to stop second-guessing every decision you make. Just go have fun with this guy. Stop worrying if you love him or he loves you. Stop worrying if you’re wearing the right thing or saying the right thing. For once, just have some fun and relax. Can you at least give it a try?”
“I’m relaxed,” I said. “I’ve been funny and irreverent. You’d even want to screw me if you’d been on our first date.”
“Let’s not talk about my wild college years. I’m trying to forget those.”
Mattie was much funnier than I could ever hope to be. Her quick wit was just one of the things I admired about her. No matter how off-track I seemed to get since losing Spencer, she had always been there to guide me back.
Our friendship was a gift that came to me in my darkest days. It was nearly impossible to imagine that this woman, who was my best friend now, hardly knew me at all before I lost my husband. Over the years, we had shared our college stories and came to the conclusion that we probably wouldn’t have been friends if we hadn’t ended up sitting next to each other at work. It was amazing how life could bring two people together in seemingly random ways.
“Fine, I’ll wear the red one,” I said.
“And you’ll like it, damn it.”
The rest of the work day flew by and I even snuck out a little early to get home and get ready. You would think that two hours was enough time to get dolled up for a date, but I really wanted four. There was showering, shaving, moisturizing, primping, and makeup to do. All so I could look like I hardly worked at all to get ready.
By six-thirty, I was pacing my living room and trying to calm myself down. I had already talked with Connor on the phone and said goodnight. Eating something seemed silly, but my stomach was turning with excitement, so I made a little peanut butter toast and sat down while I waited.
Dating wasn’t as easy as it had been when I was younger. Although, I really hadn’t dated all that much besides Spencer, I remembered it being easier. When Spencer came to get me for dates, I wasn’t nervous at all: I simply ran out of my parents’ house to his car and we took off for the night. Things were different now. So many things were different.
After finishing my toast, I grabbed a towel and wiped my armpits. I felt like I was already sweating and I hadn’t even left the house yet. It was crazy how nervous I was because this was technically my third date with Brandon. We had already done some pretty damn intimate things together so there was no reason for me to be so nervous – yet I was.
I practiced some deep breathing, checked my makeup a few more times, added some additional deodorant, and there was still twenty minutes until Brandon was supposed to arrive. Finally, I fell onto my couch and started to flip through a magazine to keep my mind busy as I waited.
Nothing helped. I couldn’t calm down. My mind raced with the possibilities of the night and how things could either go wonderfully, or absolutely terribly. In my mind, those were the only two options to most situations in my life.
“Mattie, I’m freaking out; you need to calm me down,” I said as I frantically dialed her number.
“You’re fine. Stop getting in your head so much and have a drink,” she said. “Do you even own any alcohol?”
“Yeah, I think there’s some old scotch in the liquor cabinet.”
“Grab it. Drink a swig. It will give you the liquid courage you need to relax. Remember, this is just a date, and he is probably more nervous than you are.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Oh, it is. A guy like him might look like he has his life totally together, but you just never know what is really going on. You should treat him like he was out in his car just as nervous as you are right now.”
“Okay, I’m pouring a drink right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, or later tonight if things go terribly wrong.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said calmly.
I poured at least two shots, possibly three, into a small glass and downed the strong alcohol quickly. The liquid burned going down, and I quickly filled the cup with water and drank that, as well.
The warmth of the alcohol was instantly calming to me. It soothed my nerves just like Mattie had said and I took a few deep breaths just to help the process along a little. I heard his car pull up and slipped my shoes on and waited for him to knock. As I waited, I felt the alcohol working its way through me and a heavy buzz set in. It had been a long time since I had taken three shots of alcohol.
When he knocked, I felt myself jump a little, but then I quickly went to the door. My hand stayed on the handle for a second while I let him wait and I tried to gather myself. I wasn’t having much luck gathering my emotions, though, and I started to giggle before Brandon had the chance to even say hello.
“Either I look really silly in this suit, or someone was getting a little liquid courage before I got here.”
“Is it that obvious?” I asked.
“Do I make you that nervous?”
“I wasn’t nervous,” I said totally unconvincingly. “Okay, yes, you mak
e me nervous. Like sweating to death nervous, and I had a drink. Now can we stop talking about it because you’re making me even more nervous.”
“That dress is one hell of a dress,” Brandon said as he obliged me and changed the subject. “We better get going; the traffic is going to be difficult tonight.”
He gallantly held his arm out for me to grab onto and we walked out to a black hired car. The driver was waiting by the door and smiled at us as I climbed in followed by Brandon. I’d never been on a date that started with a chauffeur before, but then again, I’d never dated a man who owned an island, either. I was doing a lot of new and different things with this guy by my side.
Brandon was something else than I had imagined for myself. His softness was hidden under the confidence that he displayed outwardly for all to see. Yet I saw his softness before I had noticed his rugged, manly side. Even my first glance at his profile made me think he was a gentle soul.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to the theater,” I softly spoke as the car pulled away from my house. “Probably since Spencer and I were dating. Gosh, I’m sorry I keep talking about him. That’s not fair; I’ll try to do better.”
Spencer had been my whole life. I knew I had the horrible habit of talking about him when I was on a date; even when I was being hit on by men in the bars, I always ended up referencing my late husband. It wasn’t like I was comparing others to him, and I didn’t do it for sympathy. I genuinely just thought of Spencer when I remembered some of my favorite times from my past.
“You can talk about him whenever you want. I know we are just getting to know each other, and I’m really glad you feel comfortable enough to talk freely about your life,” he said. “Maybe someday I’ll feel as strong as you and talk about Noah.”
My heart dropped out of my chest, onto the ground, and felt like it was run over by our car as I thought of Brandon’s son. It was his reality, and never would I want him or anyone else I was friends with to stop talking about a loss they had, but it took the wind out of my sails to think of those emotions, even for one second.
I sweetly grabbed his hand and held it while we continued our ride to the theater. I didn’t dare try to talk because I felt the tears welling up and my ability to hold them back was only there because I wasn’t trying to make words. My son was my world now, and it was just impossible for me to think of how broken of a person I would be if anything ever happened to him.
Silence was a difficult thing for me most of the time – that was probably why Mattie and I got along so well. She always was filling the silent moments with lots of funny remarks. When I withdrew and got sad, she was right there with a cute story or a funny joke; it was my safety net against the dangerous quiet that often brought sadness.
But as I sat with Brandon, I was strangely unafraid of the silence that filled the space between us. It didn’t feel awkward or scary; instead, I was comforted by how my hand in his was able to calm my emotions.
The only other human on earth who had the ability to calm me so quickly was Connor. When he was near and his sweet eyes looked at me, I knew that everything was going to be better than my imagination was allowing it to be. Connor’s optimism was refreshing and his view on life made it difficult for me to wallow in self-pity.
That was the innocence of a child, though; they hadn’t been corrupted by doubt and hurt yet. Even though Connor had lost his father, he was much too young to know what life was like in any other circumstances than the one he lived in. To him, it was normal for families to watch old videos of their dead loved one, it was normal for his mother to be found crying while reading an old letter, and it was perfectly normal to spend his Sunday mornings visiting a gravestone to tell his father about his week at school.
I was lost in my thoughts as Brandon leaned in and kissed me on the cheek to pull me back to the current moment. He didn’t say a word, just a simple and gentle kiss was all I needed and I was there with him again.
“I’m excited to see this show. I don’t get to come to the theater as much as I’d like because most of my friends don’t have time.”
“Mattie doesn’t have time?” he asked.
“Okay, she has time, she just hates the theater, opera, and anything else that requires her to pay attention for long periods of time.”
“Well, I’ll take you to the theater anytime you’d like.”
We were dressed up and seeing a full-length play downtown; I felt like an adult. It’s weird to think that most of my life I still felt like a child, but it was often true. I called my parents with questions about dinner, I talked with Spencer’s mother when I had child-rearing questions…in general, I often felt like I was a teenager pretending to be an adult. But in that moment, as I slipped my arm into Brandon’s and we walked swiftly into the theater, my posture straightened and I let the adulthood wash over me.
The theater was a magical experience for me, just like going to the movies. The way artists could bring you into their world and make you feel like you were there – I admired that so much.
I knew I could have had a wonderful career as an artist if I would have continued on with my passion. There’s no way of knowing if I would have been any good at it or if I would have made money selling my artwork, but I know I could have been happy. Art had always made me calm and content. So, if I couldn’t spend my time producing beautiful art, I wanted to spend as much of my free time around it as possible.
Art was more than just paintings to me. I saw it in so many different forms. Artists were musicians, painters, writers, actors, and even inventors. It was odd that so much of my life had ended up surrounded by non-artistic people since I loved the art world so much. Unfortunately, I also loved being able to pay my bills, and that meant I was often surrounded by business professionals and people like me who had channeled their creativity into more lucrative and less risky jobs.
“This is so good,” I whispered at intermission when Brandon and I got up to walk around.
“You seem to be enjoying it very much,” he smiled and pulled me close to him. “I love how intently you watch the characters.”
“Are you enjoying it? I’m sorry if I’m ignoring you.”
“Oh, I love the theater, but I already saw this play when it premiered a couple of weeks ago.”
“You already saw this? Why on earth did you bring me, then? We could have done something else.”
He laughed at how loudly I objected to him. I wasn’t objecting to him bringing me to the theater – I loved the show and really did love having him by my side for it. But if he had already seen it, we certainly could have done something more original with our evening. He didn’t have to sit through a second showing of the play. I had probably been a little loud in my exclamations also, since I noticed several people giving me dirty looks as we continued to talk.
“I wanted you to see it,” he said.
His hands gently tugged on my hips as he decreased the distance between us. I melted there with him. My body physically melted into his and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull myself away, or that I’d be able to behave myself. My body tingled with energy as his hands gently rubbed up and down the small of my back.
“I’m glad we came. I really did want to see it.”
Our mouths found each other’s as we pressed the delicate skin of our lips together and stayed that way until the lights flickered, signaling the end of the intermission. The evening had been perfection – but then again, every time I was with Brandon it seemed to be near perfection.
We snuggled close to each other as the final scenes of the play were acted out for us. The people around us seemed oblivious to the random acts of public affection we gave each other throughout the last act. Brandon rubbing my back, me turning to kiss him; our bodies continued to find a way to stay close to each other.
The perfection of the night continued as Brandon took me to a small night club for a drink and a little more getting to know each other. It was clear he was really a good date planne
r. He had cultivated the evening to such perfection that it seemed like he knew me inside and out.
“I’m really glad I didn’t dump you after the first date,” I laughed as we sat in a corner booth and sipped our drinks.
“Wow, I’m glad, too. Were you thinking of dumping me?”
“Let’s just say I’m not used to agreeing to a second date. I’ve got high standards, you know.”
“Oh, yes, I can tell. I’m glad you didn’t dump me, though…really, really glad.”
“And that sushi date, well, you are really lucky I returned your calls after that. You could have gotten us arrested with all that handsy stuff.”
His face lit up with the memory of how he had teased me that afternoon. He even seemed proud of the torture he had put me through and the pleasure he had delivered. His boyish grin didn’t stop as he leaned over and gently bit my earlobe and I felt his hand on my thigh.
“We could give it a try here, if you’d like?”
“No!” I protested and playfully pushed him away. “Anyways, there’s no possibility that this dress is moving. I’m stuffed in here like a sausage.”
“You are the most beautiful sausage I have ever seen.”
If anyone else had been privy to our conversation, they likely would have thought Brandon was appalling for saying such a thing, but I adored his humor. It was fun to be around a man who didn’t take life too seriously, yet had accomplished a lot with his life. Usually, those two traits didn’t exactly go hand in hand with one another.
“I’m probably only going to have this one drink. I think I’ve still got some of my pre-date fuel running through me,” I laughed.
“I was wondering if you wanted me to give you a tour of my place. You know, a normal house without the need to swim up to it?”
His hand moved gently up and down my arm, and I saw the desire in his eyes as he looked over my body. It wasn’t very often that a woman could be completely ogled by a man and feel empowered by it. But I felt empowered by Brandon. The look of pure lust that washed over him gave me a power I hadn’t even known I longed for.