by Linn, A. J.
I’m new to this site and unsure of how this all works, please bear with me.
Regards, Donovan
I send the message and sit back, hoping for a response. That wasn’t so bad. I receive several more notifications of incoming mail, but decide to hit the mini-bar in my suite before checking them out.
I get comfortable again, sitting back on the bed taking a sip of my vodka tonic. I click on the mail icon and see a new message from Zoie. Ignoring the others, I click on her message and read.
Donovan,
It’s nice to meet you. I’m new here too, so I guess we can figure it out together, haha. So you’re in Malibu, huh? How long have you lived there? We should totally meet for a drink if you want.
Zoie
Meet for a drink? Hmm, not so fast. I shake my head and laugh as I message her back.
Zoie,
I have lived in the area my entire life, actually. Why don’t we get to know each other a bit first, and to let you know, I’m away on business at the moment. I won’t be back in L.A. until early next week. Tell me what it was that got you interested in Forensic Science?
Regards, Donovan
I sift through the new messages as I wait on her reply. I’m deleting more than I’m reading yet again. Three more guys, two from much older ladies, and one from a woman who is missing two of her front teeth. Holy fuck. I want to write to her and suggest that she see a dentist before trying to find a date, but I just delete it.
Incoming message from Zoie—let’s see what she has to say.
Donovan,
I love the shows like CSI, NCIS, and I kinda became obsessed with it all, you know? I’m in my last year of school, so I’ll be one of them pretty soon, haha. What do you do? Your bio just says self-employed.
Zoie
What’s with the ha-has? I guess that it’s better than doing LOLs. Alright, so I’m reading too much into trivial shit—I get it. Lighten up Donovan. Ignore ha-has…Check.
Zoie,
Good for you, that’s quite an accomplishment. I run a hotel where I live in Malibu, and it keeps me extremely busy. What do you like to do for fun? Do you have any hobbies?
Regards, Donovan
I decide not to tell her that I actually own the hotel. I may be new to this, but I’m far from naive. I’ve heard many stories at work about gold diggers searching these dating sites for wealthy men. I will make a preemptive strike against that being my experience here. Yawning, I get up and walk to the mini-bar to make a second drink as I await her response.
I take a hearty sip before setting my drink on the night table, noticing the time on the alarm clock. It’s almost midnight here, no wonder I’m yawning. I’ve been up since six this morning and it was a long day. I check my new messages and see nothing from her as of yet, so I move my laptop off to the side and climb under the covers.
The morning sun streams brightly into the room, forcing me to wake up long before the alarm is set to go off. I roll over onto my laptop, which I obviously forgot to shut down last night while I was messaging with Zoie. I switch it off, not even taking the time to check my messages on the dating site. I get out of bed and walk—stumble, rather—still half asleep, into the bathroom for a cold shower, remembering that I have an early breakfast meeting.
I order a nice breakfast spread from room service since this morning’s meeting will be held in my suite. Steve is bringing along his colleague Amanda, who will be doing the final touches for the interior of Pisa. After three long hours of finalizing every single aspect of the blueprints with them, Amanda reminds me that I still have a few months to make any changes to the interior before it will be too late.
We wrap up the meeting and I decide to check my emails to see if there’s anything from the mysteriously-disappearing Miss Zoie from the dating website. I bring my laptop over to the dining table, sit back in one of the larger chairs, pour a fresh cup of hot coffee, and log onto the site.
Twenty-four new emails. I’m actually afraid to look after seeing some of last night’s eager candidates, but I see that three of the messages are from her. Interesting, it would seem that someone has missed me. A big grin tugs at my mouth as I read the first message…
Donovan,
I’m so sorry, I fell asleep on you last night. Write me back when you can, okay, sexy man?
Zoie
Sexy man, huh? Observant girl. I smirk as I open the second message.
Donovan,
I wanted to let you know that I’m going to the gym, I won’t be back for awhile, so write me!!
Waiting…
Zoie
And, the third.
Donovan,
I’m back from the gym, hurry up and write me haha!!! Where are you mister?
Zoie
I relax back in my chair, drinking the last of my coffee while reading over the messages for a second time. I hate to be a pessimist, but does this girl scream “stalker” to you as well? It could be that she is just excited to hear back from me…or it could be that she is just another in a long line of crazies that I seem to be attracting lately? Fuck it. I will respond. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Zoie,
Good afternoon. My apologies for the delay in responding. I had an early breakfast meeting this morning, and it just wrapped up a few moments ago. How was your workout? What are your plans for the day?
Regards, Donovan
There is a knock at the door of my suite, and as I stand to go and answer it, I hear a “new message” alert ping for the site coming from my laptop. Well, that was fast. It’s more than obvious that she wants me. She clearly has impeccable taste in men.
I open the door with a shit-eating grin on my face…what can I say? This is sort of exciting. Seeing that it is the maid to clear away the trays from the meeting this morning, I stand aside to let her in and go right back to my laptop to read the new message from Zoie.
D,
FINALLY!! Haha, I thought you left me. Don’t ever do that again, k? My workout was good, thanks. How’s Vegas? Are you winning any money? Hurry and come home so we can meet, haha.
Zoie
Wow. I can’t help but laugh at the message. She is something else. There is definitely a lot of energy there…that is apparent. I am still intrigued, though, so I respond.
Zoie,
No, I haven’t left you, just busy with work as this is a business trip. As I mentioned before, I won’t be home for another week, so you’re going to have to be patient for now. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself and what it is that you’re looking for?
Regards, Donovan
Message sent. I notice the time on my laptop and realize that I’ve got to get my ass in gear. Meeting number two is thirty minutes from now, and this one is with the Clark County Liquor and Gaming licensing board. There are so many things involved with the opening of a new hotel in Las Vegas.
I change into my black pinstriped casual business suit, switch off my laptop and go down to the lobby to see if my pre-scheduled limo is ready to take me to the meeting. During the drive, I go over the last few messages exchanged with Zoie in my already-cluttered head. I think about the last few nightmarish dates and close-call disaster dates that I have been on lately.
When did this all become so hard? Alright, so maybe I haven’t really been searching for something serious for awhile, but damn! I have dated my fair share in the past and I can’t remember it ever being this complicated.
We arrive at the county building, and I am more than happy to replace these thoughts with more productive thoughts of business. I have now decided that dating and searching for “the one” will probably be the death of me.
Another day of meetings down…another day closer to going home. As excited as I am to have Pisa actually a reality now, I will always prefer Malibu over Las Vegas. 110 degree weather is just not my idea of a good time.
I order up a nice room-service-style steak dinner before undressing and jumping into a steamy hot shower. I can’t hel
p but wonder what kind of messages I may have waiting for me in my inbox at the dating site…I did disappear on Zoie this afternoon.
I step out of the shower, wrapping a thick white towel around my waist before walking back into the bedroom to check my laptop, and I am pleased to see only one message from her—not ten—as I had expected. I take my laptop over to the bed and relax back against the pillows that are propped up along the oversized wooden headboard, settling in to read her email.
D,
Don’t worry, I’m pretty patient, I can wait a week, haha! Okay, what I’m looking for is someone cool, fun, nice, and cute, and you’re the best looking guy I’ve ever seen, for sure. I’m pretty easy. I don’t need much to make me happy. What about you?
Z.
As I read this, I think that, A: She is either a big ditz, or B: She is actually that easy to please. Not likely. I think I’ll choose door number 3: Remain undecided, keep writing, keep digging to see if there is more to her than just some “easy to please” girl in search of a “cool cute guy”. She is obviously smart—I can’t imagine some ditzy girl attending school for Forensic Science…
Zoie,
Thank you for the compliment. First and foremost, you are very sweet. I am rather curious though, there has to be more that you want, aside from a “nice, cute guy” as you put it.
Regards, Donovan
Fuck, there’s the door and here I am still in my towel. “Hold on just one minute,” I yell as I walk over to the closet and search through my suitcase for my track pants. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” I say apologetically as I open the door, stepping aside to let room service in with my dinner, which I honestly forgot about.
And I’m back on the laptop like a crack whore waiting for her next hit. I cut into my steak while I read her response to my last question.
D,
Well yeah, of course. Haha.
Z
That’s it? What the fuck sort of response was that? I don’t think I have the energy for this girl. Do I end this now or keep pulling teeth to get a proper, sane reply? I push away my laptop, turn on the news and eat. Christ, I hate dating.
After a good meal and some thought, I decide to give Zoie one last chance before making up my mind about continuing any sort of contact. I switch on my laptop and pull up the dating site, writing her an email.
Zoie,
I’m attempting to get to know you here, Zoie. Your last response lacked any sort of information regarding what it is that you’re really looking for. Would you enlighten me, please, or am I just wasting my time?
Regards, Donovan
I settle into bed and wait for her reply. It’s been an extremely long day and I’m exhausted. I check for a message and am grateful to find one so quickly, so that I can read it and get to sleep.
D,
You’re not wasting your time. I’m just super nervous for some reason when it comes to you. I’m sorry about not answering your question before, my brain isn’t working tonight, I’ve been studying for a test. So, maybe just give me a chance to prove that I’m totally worth a shot? I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’m gonna go to bed, I’m tired.
Z
I read her response and am thrilled to see the girl that I first started talking to has returned. I can definitely relate to being nervous when it comes to opening up to a stranger, so I decide to give her a break and just let things happen. I am, after all, trying to remain open here, and she does seem sincere about being nervous. I type out a quick reply before turning in.
Zoie,
I think that we should continue this over the phone. Too much gets lost in translation through email. If that is alright with you, send me your cell number and I will call you tomorrow.
Good night, sweet girl.
Regards, Donovan
I switch off my laptop, sink down under the covers, and try to get some sleep before the long day ahead tomorrow. But there is so much going on inside of my head at the moment between my conversations with Zoie and work, that I find myself tossing and turning, finding it impossible to drift off. After what feels like five minutes, I glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table to find that it’s actually four in the morning. Seeing that I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, I get out of bed, pull on my dark gray sweats and a white t-shirt, and go downstairs to the hotel’s all-night gym in an attempt to clear my head.
My week here in Vegas comes to an end, and it’s finally time to go home. I’m more than pleased with how things are progressing for the new hotel, but am happy to be going home. I pack up my things and go downstairs to the hotel lobby to meet the driver who will be taking me to the airport.
During the flight home, I think about the emails and the few short phone calls that I’ve had with Zoie over the past week. We do seem to have a few things in common, and we do want a lot of the same things. She is definitely beautiful, seems to be extremely driven and has a very playful side to her…I like playful.
After getting unpacked and settled, I call Zoie to make arrangements to meet. She has suggested that we meet for a drink tonight around seven at a restaurant in Redondo Beach. Simple and quick, if need be, just in case I need a fast escape. I did find it odd that she chose a restaurant, not an actual bar. But I try not to over-think it and remain positive. It is just a drink after all.
I dress in jeans and a black and gray graphic t-shirt…casual, but still stylish enough, I decide. Summer is coming to an end, and it’s cooler at night now, but the restaurant is casual, so I decide to leave the dress shirt at home tonight.
I pull up to the restaurant, take a deep breath, get out of my Hummer and walk inside. She said that she would meet me near the hostess station promptly at seven, but I must have beat her, because here I stand—alone. I take a seat on one of the benches near the front door and wait.
And wait…
And wait…
Twenty minutes pass, and I am just about to leave, when literally out of nowhere—because it wasn’t from the front door of the restaurant—appears this young girl. But it wasn’t Zoie. This girl must be all of nineteen. She touches my shoulder and softly squeaks out my name.
“Donovan?” She smiles, but I quickly sense that something is wrong here.
“Yes, I am Donovan. Do I know you?” Is this her little sister, sent here to let me down easy? Christ, what the fuck is going on?
“Yes…I mean, no.” She shakes her head then stares down at the floor.
“Yes? No? Would you please tell me what is going on here?” Alright, now I am getting irritated. Am I being punked?
“Donovan, it’s me…Zoie. But before you get mad, let me explain.” She pleads, her eyes filled with sincerity and worry.
Zoie? Aww, fuck. Come on! This is not happening. “You’re Zoie? Christ, not here.” I take her by the arm and lead her outside to the parking lot. “Explain.” I fold my arms across my chest, standing before her trying my best to remain calm. I won’t lie, I am fucking pissed. Who is this girl and how dare she lie to me!
“I know, not what you expected right? Just listen to me, please. I saw your profile, and it said that you were looking for girls from 25-30 and, well…as you can see, I’m not. I wanted you to get to know me, then decide. We’re so perfect for each other—age doesn’t matter, right?” She stares into my eyes searching for the answer she wants to hear, but fuck if she will be getting it.
“So, none of it was true? You just made all of that shit up to what, impress me? This conversation is over!” Disappointed and furious, I can only shake my head, remind myself that I am a gentleman and walk away at this point. “Take care, Zoie.”
I start walking to my Hummer as she runs up from behind, grabbing my arm. “Donovan please, I didn’t really make it up. Well, I did, but other than going to school for Forensics, the rest was all me. Alright…and the picture. Please, just give me a chance.”
Fuck, and here come the water works. I am not doing this. I turn to her and—as polite as I can fucking be
right now—say, “You deliberately deceived me. What kind of person does this to another person?” Shaking my head, I start to walk away, trying with everything that I have in me to remain calm. I quickly slide the key into the door of my Hummer. Pausing, I turn to look at her one last time, still in disbelief. “Oh, and Zoie, if that is even your real name…go to hell!” And with that, I open the door and get in, screeching out of the parking lot leaving yet another nightmare of a date behind me.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m stuck in a bad dream, and I’m never going to wake up. I am a smart, successful, reasonable man, so why do I keep finding these hot messes? Am I being punished for my playboy days that were filled with blondes, threesomes, debauchery and Jack Daniels? Fuck if I know, but I suppose it’s back to the drawing board for this man. I’m not ready to give up. One thing I do know: I am not ready to join that monastery just yet…
Chapter Six
~Frustration~
I’m at the end of my rope here. I wish that this string of shitty dates would just end already. Why is it so hard to find a decent girl? I think that it’s time for yet another dating hiatus. I have the redecorating of La Fuga, the construction of Pisa, and plenty of other work to occupy my time right now, so fuck it. Break time.
I arrive back at La Fuga and quickly make my way downstairs to my nightclub, The Underground. To say that I’m in desperate need of a drink…or three, is an understatement. The club is crowded and the music is loud. Perfect. Just what I need.
I take a seat at the bar, and Jared, my good friend and head bartender, sets my usual Jack and Coke in front of me. I drink it down fast, set the glass on the bar, and ask for another.
“Anything wrong, boss? How was the big date?” he asks with genuine concern as he makes a second drink.
“Where do I even start, Jared?” And as I shake my head, I can only laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was with Zoie. I continue on, “You don’t want to know, trust me. It wasn’t good. Just keep the drinks coming, alright?” I decide to keep this last encounter from him. Even though he is one of my closest friends, I know that he’ll find this hilarious and will definitely be giving me shit about it for months to come.