Silver Lining

by E. J. Shortall

  “I really am sorry about what happened yesterday,” he says in a soft voice, “and at the risk of sounding like a clichéd prick, I’d really like the opportunity to take you out and make amends.” He seems to be looking right into me, into the depths of my soul, searching for something, but for what I don’t know.

  His closeness, along with his soft caress of my face, has me totally spellbound. I’m unable to think, unable to speak, so I simply stare back.

  “Amber?” he whispers.

  “Hm-mm?”

  “Are we going to stand here like this all afternoon, because as nice as it is, I’m pretty sure we have some business to discuss,” he chortles.

  “We do? God yes, you’re right, we do. I’m sorry.” I quickly turn my head away from his and take a few steps back. I really need to put some distance between us. This hold he has over me, this undeniable attraction I have to him, is too intense. I really need to get a grip. I take a long deep breath and put my professional persona back in place. “Right, Peter said you had something to discuss?”

  “I have an excellent opportunity for a couple of your students that I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “That sounds interesting. Shall we go to my office to talk?” I move my arm out to the side, indicating which direction we should head in.

  “I was hoping maybe I could take you out to dinner and we could discuss it then.”

  Oh hell, no, no, no! That is so not a good idea. I’m already feeling things that I shouldn’t for this guy, and spending time alone with him would just add to my internal conflict. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Craig,” I say in a hushed voice.

  “Why not? I have something I’d like to discuss with you, and as we’re friends of friends, why not do that over a meal? Think of it as a friendly business dinner.”

  I can’t look at him. Being this close, and smelling his earthy, citrus scent has my heart racing. My palms are sweating, and I feel like a millions butterflies are doing a dance in my belly. I know if I look at that handsome face of his, I’ll do or say something stupid.

  The moment our eyes met on Friday night, I felt such an intense attraction to him, more than I’ve ever felt before, and that has me freaked out. Becki has already said he’s a player, and with my fragile emotions at the moment, I need to steer clear, like turn the vehicle around and head in the opposite direction, clear. So why this giddy feeling because he’s asked me out to dinner – to discuss something work related?

  I can’t.

  I have to protect myself.

  Dinner, just the two of us, suggests a level of intimacy that I’m not prepared to put myself through at the moment. Whatever his intentions, just the fact that my heart and head are raging war against each other shows I have to stay away. “I’m sorry Craig, I really can’t. If you would like to discuss business we can go to my office, but I can’t go out to dinner with you.”

  He lifts my chin so that I have to look at him once again. “Amber, I have to be honest here, and I’m also going to be a total bastard. I like you. When I first saw you on Friday night, I wanted you. I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt such an overwhelming need before. I really want to get to know you, and to do that, I need to spend some time with you… away from your office. I have a great opportunity for a couple of your students that I’d like to discuss, and to do that, I’m afraid it has to be over dinner. Take it or leave it.”

  Okay, those quivering legs because of lustful feelings have now transformed into quivering legs because of pure, unadulterated anger. How dare he blackmail me or bully me into going out with him, using my students as a bargaining chip. What kind of sick arsehole does that? I take a few steps away from him and let him have it, looking around first to make sure we’re alone.

  “How dare you. Who do you think you are, trying to bully me? Is that how you do business, Mr Silver? You harass your clients and possible acquisitions into signing on the dotted line with you? And here I was, thinking so highly of your business ethics. If that’s the way your company works, it’s probably a good thing my students have nothing to do with you. If you’re serious about wanting to get to know me, then you’ve just shot your chance to hell.” As I finish my tirade, I realise that my voice has gotten louder. I’ve also taken the few steps back towards him, and I’m poking my finger into his chest; his rock solid chest.

  “First off, no I don’t fucking use blackmail or harassment to win over clients. I have fantastic staff that work bloody hard to ensure we can offer what our clients need… the legit way.” Anger is pouring off him, but he’s looking at me with a mixture of pure rage and desire. “And, I am deadly serious about wanting to get to know you… all of you.” He says the last as a husky whisper in my ear.

  I don’t know how to respond to him. I’ve obviously offended him, but he has pissed me off beyond all reason. When it comes to matters of the heart and romance, I just can’t trust him.

  Craig and I are standing toe to toe, glaring at each other, neither knowing what to do or what to say. The silence between us is intense and uncomfortable. I think it would be best if he leaves and just speaks to Peter about whatever opportunity it is that he has for our students. I’m just about to open my mouth to tell him so when he sucks in a frustrated deep breath, tilts his head backward, and drags his hand through his silky hair.

  After a few short moments, he gathers his composure, drops his head back down and looks me in the eyes. “Look Amber, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as an overbearing prick. I simply want to take you out, no strings attached. We’ll discuss my proposal and hopefully get to know each other a little. If you really aren’t interested, I have to respect that, but I won’t like it. What do you say, just one meal out with me? A couple of hours of your time, and then if you don’t want to, you’ll never have to see me again.”

  He’s looks at me so sincerely, and despite the voice in my head screaming at me that it’s a very, very bad idea, I find myself saying yes to him. We make arrangements to meet at an Italian restaurant in town later that evening.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The taxi comes to a halt outside the restaurant at a little after seven thirty, and I feel sick to my stomach with nervous anticipation. What if he’s not here yet? What if he’s changed his mind? What if something came up? We never exchanged numbers, so he wouldn’t have been able to let me know if he wasn’t coming.

  I lean over and pay the driver the fare, shocked at how much it was to travel just a few short miles. It’s been a while since I’ve travelled by taxi, and even then, David paid so I didn’t realise how much these things cost. Another thing I guess I’m going to have to get used to while being single.

  As I step out of the taxi, I look over towards the restaurant to see if Craig is there waiting, but there is no sign of him. Taking a deep breath and wiggling my fingers by my side, I try to calm my nerves. Using a nearby shop window, I take one final look at my appearance, hoping that I dressed appropriately. I chose to dress conservatively so as to not give Craig any wrong impressions about the evening. I chose a black print knee length wrap dress with my black, knee high boots. I didn’t bother with jewellery with the intention of keeping the look understated. My make-up is as I had it Friday, very minimal with just a hint of colour on my lips and mascara on my lashes. I decided to leave my hair down, so it’s hanging loosely around my shoulders and down my back.

  A loud wolf-whistle from a group of teenage boys walking by makes me question if I actually achieved the look that I was hoping for. I quickly turn away from them and peer down into my bag, trying to feign ignorance of their immature act. Truthfully, I’m just trying to hide how uncomfortable situations like that make me.

  While I’m standing there, waiting for the boys to move on, two large strong hands appear on my hips from behind. I jump, startled and quite frankly, scared shitless. A low chuckle and warm breath caresses my ear. “Easy, tiger, it’s only me,” Craig says as he spins me around to face him.

  “A
re you okay? Were those lads harassing you?” I peek up to see him looking down the road, scowling, toward where the group of lads walked.

  “Jesus Christ, Craig. You scared the life out of me, and yes, I’m fine. They weren’t doing anything.”

  “Are you sure? You looked a little shaken up. I can go after them if you want, try and teach the little fuckers some manners.”

  “No, no. Honestly, I’m fine. It was nothing. Can we just go in? I’m really hungry.”

  “Of course. The table is waiting for us.” As I turn to head for the door, Craig reaches out and grabs my left hand, intertwining our fingers together and giving a little squeeze. I look over to him to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but his gaze is fixed firmly on the restaurant door, a small smile tugging on the corners of hip lips. I feel like I should be ripping my hand from his, but I don’t. It feels nice, comfortable, just like it did dancing in his arms on Friday, so I let him lead us inside where a pretty brunette with an Italian accent seats us at a quiet table towards the rear of the room.

  Sitting across the table from Craig, I can’t help but peer over the top of my glass and take him in as I take a sip of my wine. My gaze first catches on his chest, which is covered by a slim fitting white, short sleeved shirt that hugs every ridge of his well-defined pecs and biceps. Slowly, I sweep my eyes up, taking in the curve of his neck. His chiselled jaw line with five o’clock shadow giving him a bit of a bad boy vibe, and those perfectly sculpted plump lips are just begging to be ravished. I inhale deeply and drag my lower lip between my teeth as I imagine his mouth creeping slowly across my skin, nipping and sucking on all my erogenous zones, not leaving an inch of flesh untouched.

  Sighing, I eventually lift my gaze higher and find his deep green eyes looking intently at me, a look of knowing and promise burning deep within them. We sit there, our gazes locked, for what feels like forever until a waitress comes to take our order and breaks our trance. I should be running. I should be getting up and walking away quickly, because this is a very, very bad idea. Instead, I’m fantasising about all the things he could possibly do to me, and as much as that scares me, it thrills me more and I shiver with anticipation.

  Once our orders are placed and my wine glass is topped up, I try and bring the evening back to where it’s supposed to be, about a work related matter. “So, I thought the whole point of this evening was to chat about a proposal you have. What do you need to discuss?”

  Looking bemused, Craig leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and rubs his index finger across his lip. After a brief moment of silence that feels like an eternity, he lets out a small chuckle and slumps back in his chair again. “You are a mystery, Miss Merchant. You know that? One minute you’re happy to bump and grind on the dance floor, and the next you’re running off like I’m some kind of mad axe murderer. Then, when I nearly knock you out with a rogue ball, you look at me as though you want me to rip your clothes off and ravish you. I hold your hand walking in here and you say nothing. You look at me like you want to devour me, only for you to then turn the cold shoulder and go all business on me. I can’t keep up.” He takes a drag from his beer bottle, his gaze never leaving mine.

  I lower my eyes to the table and start fiddling with my napkin. He’s stirring feelings and emotions in me that I don’t understand, that I’m too scared to acknowledge. I know that if I do, then I’ll start stumbling down a path I really need to avoid right now. I know it will lead to heartbreak, and I don’t think I could take any more of that. But he is right. I’m throwing out mixed signals, and that’s because my feelings for him are mixed. I really need to watch that.

  “Amber, look at me. Please.” I do as Craig asks and lift my head to peer up at him. “I meant what I said at school. I want to get to know you.” He reaches over and places his warm hand on top of mine.

  “Craig, you invited me here to discuss a work proposal. That’s why I am here,” I reply with a shaky voice.

  “Okay, you’re right. I do want to talk to you about work, and we will, but I also said I wanted a couple of hours of your time to get to know you. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Shit. What do I do now? I can’t exactly get up and leave, but I’m also not much of a conversationalist, so things might get quite awkward. “Fine, you win. I guess a little getting to know you session isn’t the end of the world. What do you want to know? I warn you now, though, I’m a very boring person.”

  “I don’t believe for one minute that you’re a boring person. In fact, I have witnessed first-hand just how un-boring you are,” he replies with a wink as the waitress reappears with our starters.

  Oh my! Yes, Friday evening’s hip grinding session most certainly wasn’t ‘boring’.

  As the evening progresses, to my surprise, we fall into easy conversation, and I find I’m actually really enjoying his company. We discuss his business proposition, which turns out to be work experience opportunities for some of our students at his company. I explain that he’ll need to liaise with my colleague, Monique, for that. I thank him for considering our students and hope that by creating links with his organisation, it will help improve curriculum delivery for our students.

  Our easy going conversation about work and our careers then turns a little more personal, and that’s when I start shutting down again. I’m not ready to tell him about David and drag up those painful memories and emotions again. I opt for the easy way out and give him the cliff notes version. “I recently broke up with someone I’d been with for a long time. We sold our house and are now both moving on with our lives.” I expect him to press me for more information, but he must sense my apprehension and chooses to not ask anything else.

  A short while later, after an exquisite meal and too many glasses of wine, Craig pays the bill and we leave. The air has turned much cooler now, and the light cardigan I brought with me is doing nothing to keep me warm. A shiver ripples through my body, and I wrap my arms around myself to try and retain some of my own body heat.

  “You’re shivering,” Craig notes and pulls me in close, wrapping his strong arms around me. He envelops me in his warm embrace which instantly warms me, although I’m beginning to think that it’s not so much to do with his body temperature and more to do with my raging hormones. They seem to go into a frenzy whenever I’m near him.

  “Did you drive? Please tell me you didn’t… shit! I should have checked before I kept on ordering you more wine.” He sounds genuinely angry at himself, and I wonder if he’s simply looking out for my welfare or if there is a deeper meaning to his sudden change in demeanour.

  “I didn’t drive. I got a taxi here earlier. If I was driving, I would have said.”

  “I’ll give you a lift home then. My car’s parked just up the street.”

  I’m quickly learning a few of Craig’s temperamental quirks, one of them being his stubbornness. When I politely refuse his offer and say I’m more than happy to get a taxi home, he won’t hear a word of it, arguing that young women should not travel alone at night as anything could happen. I have to admit that he’s right and I would feel safer, physically, in his car. Emotionally though, I’m not so sure. Surely accepting a lift from him, and putting myself in a position of being in such close proximity to him, is asking for trouble and complications. Despite my reservations, I accept his offer and keep telling myself that it’s just a lift home. He’ll drop me off and then be on his way.

  Craig leads me towards his car with his hand resting gently on my lower back. When we reach it, a black Range Rover Sport, he opens the passenger door for me and helps me into my seat. The inside is all cream leather seats with a cream and black dashboard and dark grey carpeting. It really is a modern car for the modern man. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many buttons, dials and gadgets in a car before. I can’t imagine what they all do, and it certainly puts my ancient little Honda Civic to shame.

  Settling back into the plush leather seats, I make myself comfortable and watch Craig as he gracefully eases himself into
his seat. He starts the engine then touches a couple of buttons, and I'm almost immediately engulfed with warm air. A strange heat creeps up from under my backside and up my back... oh, heated seats. The heat feels wonderful, and with my increasing awareness of Craig, strangely arousing. I sit back a little further in the seat and enjoy the warm, cosy feeling blanketing me.

  “So where are we heading?” Craig asks, breaking the silence as he pulls the car out onto the road.

  “Oh, I’m on Queens Road, opposite the park. Do you know it?”

  “I think so. It’s not too far from the school, right?

  “Yeah, that’s it. I’ve just moved into one of the new flats on the corner.” He simply nods his head in acknowledgement and indicates to turn right toward my new home.

  After that brief exchange, conversation dries up again, so I turn my head slightly to get a better look at Craig. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, but he’s pursing his lips and his thumbs are drumming some imaginary beat on the steering wheel. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Maybe he’s regretting asking me out now that he’s gotten a chance to see the real me. As if sensing the growing awkwardness between us, Craig presses a button on the steering wheel, and music instantly surrounds us, relaxing me a little. I don’t recognise the song playing, so I listen a little more intently at the lyrics. It’s a song about one person waiting to be with another when they’re ready. It gets me to thinking about tonight and how things have been between us. I’ve had a surprisingly nice time with Craig. We’ve chatted easily, and I actually feel pretty comfortable with him. Am I dismissing him and his advances purely because of my broken past and because of what Becki has told me of him? Should I maybe give him the benefit of doubt and at least get to know him? He is, after all, a friend of Scott’s, so I am more than likely going to see him around occasionally.

  I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that I don’t even realise that the car has stopped until Craig reaches over and traces his fingers down my cheek. “Penny for your thoughts,” he says softly, and as I turn to face him our eyes lock. In his I see softness, but in mine I feel tears well and have to blink several times to stop them from falling. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the gentle look on his face, or the strange feeling of being out with someone other than David, but I feel suddenly very emotional. Sucking in a deep breath and swallowing down the lump that has formed in my throat, I turn my head so that I’m once again looking out the window into the blackness of the unlit park across the street.