Unorthodox Chemistry

by Lilah E. Noir

  The episode had killed my desire to swim so I simply nodded. My cheeks were still burning with shame. All I wanted was to run away from the embarrassing accident but I felt too weak. The poor man probably thought I was crazy. He wouldn't be far from the truth.

  I took a step towards the ladder but the world started spinning before my eyes. All I wanted was to get out of that mess with at least a little grace.

  The stranger felt my distress and carefully moved past me to climb out of the pool. Just when I thought he'd leave so I could come back to my senses, he turned around and extended his hand. His compassion and concern made me feel even more awkward.

  "If you'd allow me?"

  Lately, the idea of a stranger's touch had filled me with unease. I really didn't feel well, though, so I took his hand and let him pull me up the ladder. The cynical part of my brain expected him to try to touch me in an inappropriate way. I was a total mess and easy to take advantage of.

  His hand never went any further than my shoulders, though, when he helped me sit down on the deck chair. He took the towel I brought with me and draped it over my back. I looked up into his eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude. How long had it been since someone had done an entirely altruistic gesture for me?

  "Do you feel better?" He removed his hands from my body and studied me with growing curiosity. "I had no idea I was that scary."

  His uneasy laughter helped me to overcome the panic attack. I wanted to kick myself but that wouldn't help me look more normal.

  "No, you're not." I smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm just... not entirely myself these days. I wouldn't guess in a million years someone else would want to swim at this time of night."

  He sighed in relief. I was calmer now and had the chance to look at him closer. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Had we met before?

  "Have I seen you somewhere?" His question startled me. Was he reading my mind?

  "Not that I can remember. I'm sorry." I played with the edge of my towel. At first, I thought he had brown or black eyes, but when I took a better look I realized they were dark gray. The man wiped the wet tresses of dirty blonde hair from his forehead and sat on the chair next to mine.

  "I'm sure we've met," he uttered in a soft, pensive voice, tapping his fingers on the armrests. Then his face lit up and he flashed me a perfect white smile. "Yes, we did. God, the world is so small."

  I arched an eyebrow at him and rubbed the towel against my shoulders.

  "You know more than I do. Care to remind me?"

  He chuckled, grabbed a towel of his own and didn't say a word for nearly a minute while he was drying his body with a teasing expression. I used the moment to look at him better. The man looked fit, with well-defined shoulders, abs, and strong, muscular calves. He had a square jaw, aquiline nose and right then his thin lips were curled into a mischievous smirk. There was an aura of authority about him, but no arrogance. The kindness in his gaze hadn't faded even when he looked so smug I wanted to slap him.

  "Well? You want to keep me on edge the entire night?" I smiled and tilted my head.

  Finally, the stranger dropped his towel onto the chair.

  "Did you go to Fever Club in San Francisco, roughly this time last year?" he asked. "We shared a cigarette in front of the club because you didn't have a pack or lighter. I gave you my card but you never called me. Does that ring a bell?" There was a slight nervousness in his voice.

  Would the night of social mishaps ever end? It was really him, the stranger I'd kissed to provoke Thomas' jealousy. And boy, did I provoke it.

  Never, in a million years, would I predict that this man whose name I never learned would cross paths with me again. I wanted to sink into the ground. He, on the other hand, was clearly amused and chuckled at my reaction.

  "I..." My voice was ridiculously shy. "You rendered me speechless. Trust me, that doesn't happen often."

  "Yes, it's a little awkward." Judging by the look in his eyes, he wasn't feeling even a little awkward.

  "I'm really sorry about that night. It wasn't right." I was staring at the ground like a guilty schoolgirl. "It's a piss poor excuse but I had some problems with my... boyfriend at the time."

  I guess I could have told him that Thomas wasn't my boyfriend at the time but I doubted it would make things better.

  "Trust me, that was easy to see. I don't have a cabbage for a head." He placed his fingers under my chin and made me look at him. "Relax, I wouldn't hold it against you. I just kind of hoped you'd call." The stranger removed his fingers, swallowed nervously and kept talking with a cheerful, nonchalant voice. "You know, to keep me company while I'm smoking."

  "I officially quit." I smiled apologetically. "I haven't had a cigarette since that one. And I... um... sorry, but I threw your business card away."

  A dramatic sigh tore from his chest and he placed a hand on his heart.

  "It must be my destiny to be rejected by beautiful women. Did you have to add insult to injury?" He winked at me in a strangely boyish way.

  I gave him a skeptical look. He was very handsome. If I hadn't been involved with Thomas the night we met I probably would have called him. It was shocking he remembered our short encounter.

  "Oh come on, you must have women throwing themselves at you all the time."

  "What can I say, I'm a messed up individual." He shrugged. It was his turn to look at the ground. "I always want what I can't have. So..." his voice drawled with some hope. "Where is the lucky guy? Are you still together?"

  "No, we... broke up this spring." I ignored the pain lancing through my chest as I said the words. We broke up. How convenient, friendly, non-committal--much better than he left me.

  "I'm sorry to hear that." The man hesitated for a moment. "So... now that you're single, would you like to have a drink with me?"

  "Now?" His offer caught me completely off guard.

  "Yes, unless your dance card is filled."

  "I don't know..."

  "No expectations, I promise." He smiled. "I scared you, so the least I can do is buy you a drink. Then I'll try to guilt trip you into buying the second round."

  It was a bad idea. My therapist had advised me against starting a new relationship before my wounds had fully healed. His words were innocent but the intention was clear in his eyes.

  If I were a better person I'd be upfront and tell him he deserved better than someone like me.

  Oh, come on. It's only a drink, not a freaking marriage proposal. Don't leave your drink unattended, don't lose sight of him, be on alert and you'll be fine.

  He took my hand and I held my breath. Would I feel a sudden animal attraction and mad lust, making my blood boil with need? Nothing happened, just the comfort and solace of a human touch after months of loneliness.

  Why was that supposed to be a bad thing, though? It was what I needed at the moment.

  "Okay, just let me put some clothes on." I gave him my best fake, carefree smile. "I should be flying back to San Francisco in the afternoon but I don't feel like sleeping."

  He nodded in understanding and put his own jeans on while I was picking up my yoga pants.

  "That's great, I have an even earlier flight. I'd love the company of a sexy redhead in the meantime." He fumbled with the button of his jeans. "By the way, I'm Nate. Nathaniel, actually, but only my mother calls me that."

  I tied my hair in a ponytail and extended my hand to him.

  "Oh, yes... It would be rude to refer to you as Stranger." Some invisible cord deep inside me began to loosen. "My name is Lina, though I'm positive my mother still calls me Devil Child."

  "I knew you were a wild card." Nate laughed while he was putting his arms through his light shirt's sleeves. "I always had a thing for dangerous women."

  "Really?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. We finished dressing and made our way out of the indoor pool. "What an odd thing to say. I wasn't dangerous when we met. My inner feminazi is urging me to accuse you of only being interested in me because I seemed like easy prey
."

  Nate draped his towel over his folded elbow and rolled his eyes at me.

  "There's nothing more dangerous than a person going through nicotine withdrawal. You looked totally fierce and ready to tear apart the first soul who came your way." I felt his eyes on me the whole time as we were walking to the elevator. "Any man who thought he could take advantage of you that night would have been either very brave or very stupid."

  "Ah, so you're the clever type who leaves gifts at the feet of the fierce deity and hopes to be spared?" I chuckled and leaned against the elevator wall. "Trust me, when I was in withdrawal I was as helpless as a baby kitten, more hiss and scratch than actual bite."

  "I find that hard to believe." Nate's eyes grew darker. The appreciation in his gaze was flattering and a little unnerving. "So, what is Devil Child doing in Sin City? Planning a heist on the casino? Or are you following your dream of being the lead dancer in the naked show?"

  I laughed out loud and nudged him with an elbow. The elevator stopped on the floor where the bar was and we walked out together, nearly touching.

  "Seriously? That is too much of a cliché for my taste," I said with a smug look on my face while we made our way among people in fancy clothes. We stood out like two sore thumbs but I couldn't have cared less. What was it about this man that made me feel at ease around him? Of course, I wasn't entirely relaxed but I wasn't a nervous wreck either. For the first time in months I felt normal. "I'm more of a thrill seeker so I prefer exciting, adrenalin-filled events. I came here for the 451 Research conference on cloud computing. Are you getting hot?"

  Nate pulled out one of the tall bar stools and helped me to sit down.

  "Really?" He smiled, taking a seat next to me. "We have more in common than I thought. That's the reason I'm here. The company I work for sent me as a representative." Nate ran his fingers through his hair, the color growing lighter as it dried. His voice shifted from playful and flirtatious to admiring. "How come I didn't see you?"

  "You saw how it was. The auditorium was filled to the brim," I said and ordered my usual whiskey. "I've been keeping a low profile this year, more about watching and learning than networking."

  "It's a shame we didn't run into each other," he said pensively while the bartender poured our drinks. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled we could reconnect. I didn't think I'd see you again. It would've been so much better if we could have met in a professional setting rather than me scaring the shit out of you by the pool. We could have spent more time together."

  "Perhaps." I shrugged and took a sip, nearly purring with pleasure. I'd have a hard time staying awake the following day but I really needed a drink. "If I have to be honest, I'd probably turn you down politely. I told you, I'm not really myself these days. So, which company are you working for?"

  "I'm the VP for Data Center," Nate said and ran his fingers over the edge of the glass. "We're trying to expand our activity. I'm not sure how many of the IT strategies we'll get to apply, though. Our CEO is not... the most entrepreneurial person. No wonder I'm here instead. What about you?"

  "I actually own a startup--ChaosTech Solutions, if you have heard of them." I bit the inside of my lip nervously, praying that he hadn't heard of the sex scandal. "My entrepreneurial spirit has been lacking lately but I'm trying to put us back in line."

  "It sounds familiar... Wait, did you guys launch that Infinity CMS about two years ago?"

  "Yes, we did." I couldn't hold back the pride in my voice. "It's currently our biggest hit and best selling product."

  "That is seriously impressive." His reaction surprised me. In the past, most men had become aggressive and competitive after they learned I owned a tech company. Nate, on the other hand, regarded me with a genuine respect and admiration. "I often thought of starting a business of my own rather than having a lucrative position. I mean, I've been in the game for fifteen years. I know how things work. I did some coding of my own, but still..." He exhaled and wrapped his fingers around his glass. "It's such a huge leap, and I'm too much of a control freak." He chuckled. "That was a helluva way to advertise myself to a woman like you. You must be thinking I'm a total pussy."

  "Oh, no, on the contrary." I smiled reassuringly and patted his hand. "I admire that you're thinking things through and you consider the risks instead of seeing only the possible profit. Trust me, I was scared shitless when I started ChaosTech. It's not an easy decision to make."

  "Well... we'd better drink to the risks and taking them when the time is right, Devil Child." Nate gave me an uneasy smile and raised his glass. "Cheers."

  I didn't realize when another hour passed. We even ended up getting a second round. He was a great companion, funny, with easy charm, rather intelligent and competent. We spent most of that time sharing our opinions on the industry and the current IT trends. We only talked briefly about our private lives. He said he was divorced and, judging by the tension in his shoulders, it wasn't easy for him to talk about so I didn't push.

  Nate was the type of man I could date in the open without being judged, a suitable match and a respectful partner. Perhaps giving him a chance wouldn't be so bad.

  Perhaps.

  At about six am, I decided it was high time to go back to my suite, pack and prepare to leave. Nate was kind enough to accompany me to my room.

  I was about to thank him for the nice time when he said with clear anxiety, "I want to see you again when we get back to San Francisco. I mean... you're single, I'm single. There is no reason why we shouldn't try. Like I said, no expectations--perhaps we can have dinner and see how things go."

  "I'd love to," I answered before my anxieties had the chance to interfere. "Let me give you my card."

  When I entered the dark room, I realized it was the first time in months I hadn't applied the Procedure. I fished one business card out of my purse and went back to Nate.

  "All my contacts are there." I smiled shyly and handed the card to him. "Call me tonight if that's okay with you."

  "It'll be more than okay." He leaned forward to kiss me and I closed my eyes. It would be a perfect moment for a brand new start.

  Just before our lips brushed, I took a step back and exhaled loudly. It felt wrong on every level. When I closed my eyes, I imagined I was with Thomas instead of the man in front of me. He looked a bit confused when I moved away.

  "It's a bit early for that. I'm sorry." What a fucking ridiculous excuse. Like I was some religious schoolgirl who was saving herself for marriage. Nate nodded with understanding and satisfied himself by running his fingers through my hair.

  "Don't worry, Lina. I'm a patient man. All I want is the pleasure of being around you. I just got carried away. Have a safe flight."

  I smiled and wished him the same. When he moved out of sight, I walked inside again and leaned against the door. Was it right to accept his invitation and even consider dating again when I was still in love with Thomas?

  The buzzing wouldn't fade away. It was humming in the background, like a horrible insect I couldn't see but its noise made me want to scream. A headache and nausea would crash over me later. The worst part was, I didn't even have the strength to get up and search for the fucking landline.

  I rolled over onto my side and tried to go back to sleep. Whoever was so desperate to talk to me would give up. My brain was already part awake. It was difficult to sink back into oblivion. What was worse, the anonymous caller wouldn't stop their vicious attack. Even when I pressed my hands to my ears, the sound kept playing back and forth like an invisible beat. The blinds on my window were tightly shut but I could swear light was passing through them. The wry, acid taste of food and alcohol in my mouth made the nausea even worse. If I tried to get up I'd fall flat on my face, shaking and helpless. All I'd be able to do was crawl. Maybe I'd choke on my own vomit. How humiliating would it be if I dropped dead in a puddle of my own secretions? They'd find my body a rotten corpse and no one would be able to distinguish where my decomposing flesh began and where the flood of stench e
nded.

  I smiled bitterly at the thought of people entering what I'd once called home. They'd need gas helmets and flamethrowers to fight the new forms of life borne of dirt and mold. When they reached my room they'd have to scrub me off the floor so my mother would have something to bury.

  That fucking asshole kept on calling me. I let out a croaked sigh, coughing up some phlegm in the process. My throat was so dry and painful I'd kill for just a sip of water to moisten my cracked lips. If only it wasn't so difficult to make it to the bathroom. Tap water would do just fine.

  I shut my eyes and pressed the pillow on top of my head whispering a prayer to any God willing to listen. May I just fall asleep and not wake up again. I just wanted it all to stop.

  My sins must have been too great because the alcohol-induced coma was elusive. How long had I been sleeping? How much time had passed since the last time I'd left the house, with the sun on my face and the ocean breeze filling my nostrils?

  It could have been six months or years. Time made no difference in here, a nuthouse of rot, reek, and darkness. Sometimes the infernal landline reminded me the world hadn't died with me. There were people out there who hadn't given up. She was still somewhere.

  I was trying my best not to think of Lina, but how could I not? She had left her mark all over the house and populated it with memories. Whenever I walked down the stairs I could see her, down on her knees, naked, on my leash. If I turned around, I was sure I'd see her right behind me, calling me with her seductive, raspy voice. I'd pass by the bookshelf and find her there, browsing through the books with a mischievous smirk and the sun in her flaming hair. Staying in that house was a slow form of torture. A smarter man would have sold it and moved on to a new life.

  I wasn't so smart. The house had turned into a graveyard for our relationship. Those memories were my only connection to Lina. As painful as they were, I wasn't ready to let go of what I had for those few blissful months. It would kill me to let someone else fill this place with their stories.