by Avonlea Cole
"I see." She walked back to the door and opened it slowly. "Well, I am sorry you had to deal with that. Just give him some time. He will come around," She said the words over her shoulder as she exited the room. I hated the position it put her in. A woman shouldn’t have to choose between her son and her husband, but how dare he put this all on me. Sleep. That’s what I needed. This long work week had been trying. I had other things to worry about than the approval of an old angry man.
As I lay in bed on top of the black satin sheets, I thought, Surely tomorrow will be better. My date with Claire was a definite pick me up, and the thought of being busy all weekend was an even bigger bonus as it would keep me out of the house and away from him.
I returned to work the next morning and a steaming cup of black coffee sat on my desk next to a stress ball. Beth!
By lunchtime, I had met with all the vendors, and I had spent the better part of the afternoon preparing the report for the board meeting. This was the first time since I graduated that I had actually done something I could be proud of. I regretted slacking for the last few years. I was a natural in the business field.
This morning I had received a strange new message from a girl named Lola. I didn't remember seeing her, and upon reading her profile, I was . . . disturbed. She was very into heavy metal and the color black. She put in her profile that she liked going to raves and "rocking out." I was impressed with her love of poetry, which I didn't share as an interest, but the way she was able to respond to the questions using the poetry was intriguing. When asked what kind of man she wanted, she responded with, "The type of man with an open mind, a heart of steel, and knows how to unwind!"
Weird, right? Kind of cool but still weird. Her bleached blonde hair was striped with black, and her dark brown eyes stared straight through you. However, she was wearing a corset type top that was insanely hot. I argued with myself about whether or not we could make this work. I couldn't imagine my parents’ faces when they met her, but maybe the profile wasn't really representing her appearance. Catfish? There was photo shop and all kinds of ways to change a picture. The message was more of a flyer for a rave party next Thursday night at an abandoned warehouse downtown that had been converted to a club of sorts. I had heard of it but never got the courage to go, and Camille wouldn't have been caught dead at a place like that.
I had responded to her message saying I'd be there and asked how I would find her. I was still feeling a bit off about her, but who knew, maybe she'd steal my heart with one of her poems. Okay maybe not, but I had no doubt it would be an experience I wouldn't forget.
THIS IDEA OF MEETING these girls whenever they messaged me was starting to get out of hand. I had dates coming out of my ears and with my job bearing down on me, I was busy. Maybe too busy. Jenna had requested my appearance Saturday morning at ten and said we would be "busy" most of the day. I was totally scared of what that might mean. Hell, she'd probably have me dropping from a cliff or something.
Claire’s last message said, "I know we live far apart so can we meet at the mall downtown and drive from there? I was thinking around eight?" Sweet.
And then there was Victoria, she had not set up a date, but we had messaged a few times a day about random stuff like what my thoughts on kids were and what kind of movies I liked. I figured that she hadn't had time to meet me with her two job work schedule during the day, and I respected her not wanting to meet me with a kid around.
"Mr. Sloane, your father would like to meet with you." Beth had once again poked her head in without me noticing.
"Sure thing," I said, sliding back from my desk. "And thanks for the coffee and this," I said holding up the stress ball. Beth smiled and left. Usually she just turned and left. I wondered if my new project was earning me some kind of respect in the company or maybe it was our mutual commiseration about dealing with my father. I made a mental note to talk to her later about some of my ideas. I knew she was my father's "right hand man" and her input would be helpful, and I didn’t happen to mind her smile to brighten my day.
I entered my father's office with my hands shoved in my pockets. "Yes, father, you wanted to see me."
He was staring out the window watching a plane take off from our private runway. He turned around, greeting me with a smile. "Son, I have been hearing good things about your evaluations. I hope you will be ready to present your results at the meeting on Tuesday." I had not seen him smile for anyone except my mother in a long time. I hadn't realized how much his approval meant since I graduated high school and didn't become a pilot or a meteorologist, even though I was pretty sure my mother had threatened him to stop fighting with me.
"Uh yeah, I am finishing up the proposal, and the last vendor is coming this afternoon. The project will be ready for approval Tuesday."
"Marvelous! Your mother will be attending the meeting as well. She has also requested you come to lunch on Sunday, if you are available?"
I agreed. Mom's Sunday lunches were always good, and it had been a while since we had done anything as a family. I knew being the only child and not wanting to follow in the family footsteps was disappointing enough for my father.
I had to rush out to meet the vendor about a new badge system. Several of the employees had complained that our security system was outdated. Right now they had to access a computer at the front entrance to type in their credentials and clock in to get in or out. I agreed that was a bit much especially if you were running low on time or your hands were full. This person had offered several solutions including an eye scanner, an encrypted badge, and a voice recognition system. I had him price the first two only because he had advised the voice system could be an issue if there was background noise, like a plane taking off for instance.
At five o’clock sharp I headed out the door. I was excited to meet Claire. But as I pulled into my driveway my phone went off. A text message came through from Claire. It read, "Hey Drew! It’s Claire. I am sorry, but I got called in to work tonight. I'm not bailing, but it might be a little later than eight. Do you think you could meet me here at the hotel around nine? I’ll understand if you can't, just let me know."
I told her that would be fine. I did wonder how it would work if we were together? Would she be working all the time; all night or all weekend? Would we have to work around her schedule more often than not?
I pulled my car up to the front entrance of the Raleigh Manor Inn a few hours later. The motor rumbled noisily under the covered drop off area, and the valet who didn't look a day over eighteen ran up to take the wheel. "Oh man, this is a nice ride!"
I remembered feeling that same way when I saw it for sale on the side of the road about five years ago. I had paid cash for it that day, and it had been roaring like a lion ever since. "Yeah kid, just take care of it!"
"No problem, sir." I heard the door shut and the engine boom as he put it into gear.
I checked the collar on my black polo shirt and smoothed my hair down one last time before I entered the large glass entryway. A line of people waiting to be seated stretched all the way to the door. I quickly bypassed the line not wanting to be late meeting Claire. I wasn’t after all waiting to be seated. I crossed the room to the double doors leading into the dining room where I waited for a few moments before seeing a tall, thin man wearing a tailored black suit approaching me. He quietly said, "Can I help you, sir?"
"Yes, I am here to see Claire. She's expecting me."
"Right this way." The elderly man seemed tired beyond his years. He walked with a slight limp in his left foot. Leading me through the double doors and into the kitchen, he directed me to sit at a side table to wait. I figured it was used as a break table for the kitchen staff.
The kitchen smelled amazing. I could smell the garlic and the wine simmering. Even the steam from the vegetables permeated the room. There were trays of food waiting on a heated counter to be picked up by the waiters sprinting to and from the room. The kitchen was noisy. The pots and pans clanked together, and I could hear a w
ire whisk briskly moving in a metal bowl. I hadn't seen anyone come out of the kitchen, but the old waiter had poked his head in and motioned for someone to let them know I was here. A young female cook came out carrying a steaming plate of mussels and a glass of white wine.
"Compliments of the chef," she said with a wink. I thanked her, and she scurried off into the kitchen. I could hear her squealing inside and that boosted my confidence a little. Hopefully Claire was that excited to see me.
I was starving so I quickly downed the first few mussels. They were fantastic, served with a side of potato gnocchi in a delicious mushroom sauce. I sipped the wine which paired nicely with the hearty broth. The warm liquid felt good going down my parched throat.
By the time I finished my plate, another dish was brought out, this time carried by another female staff member. This woman was older, and her sly grin clued me in on the chatter going on inside the kitchen.
"The chef should be done soon, but there are a few courses left for you to taste."
"Please give my regards to the chef, the dishes are fantastic." I tried to boost my voice, which sparked a giggle from behind the door. The older chef smiled and gave a slight bow before reentering through those mysterious kitchen doors.
The second course was a roasted duck breast sliced thinly over a bed of wild rice served with steamed green beans, which were seasoned nicely with garlic and sea salt. I couldn't remember the last time I had duck, but I was almost certain it had not been this good. A man could get use to this kind of cooking.
I didn't mind sitting alone in this hallway table. The bustle from the kitchen was quite relaxing and being able to enjoy my food without the prying eyes of other patrons gave me a chance to savor the dishes.
I leaned back in my chair and sipped the remaining wine from my glass. A few of the other kitchen staff were beginning to leave and the door opened and shut a million times before I saw her. And I can honestly say it was worth the wait. She entered through the doors still wearing her apron over a light pink long sleeved blouse and a pair of jeans. Her chocolate brown hair was up in a tight bun, and she was void of any makeup. She was lovely.
In her hands were two bowls of chocolate mousse with a strawberry glaze and a few sugared strawberries with a mint leaf for garnish. Top notch from what I could see. I was very impressed with her menu tonight. I stood as she approached the table. She set down the dishes and removed her apron. I saw a quick flash of blonde hair cover the circle window in the door, but she flitted away.
"Hi, I'm Drew. It is so nice to meet you. And you're food is amazing. Really, just spectacular." I was rambling. I reached to shake her hand, and she graciously reached for mine.
"I am so sorry about tonight! My chef got sick, and the manager begged me to come back. It was a mess, and Fridays are our biggest night." She flipped a stray piece of hair off her forehead.
"No, really, it is totally fine," I said. "I have sincerely enjoyed my time just interacting with your staff and tasting your delicious food. May I?" I said motioning towards the chocolaty dish in front of me.
"Of course," she said. She reached for her bowl as well, and we both dug in.
"Mmmm! That is insane." I meant it. That shit was amazing.
"Ya know, after cooking all night you would think I would get tired of the food, but I try to put things on the menu that you can't resist." She dug her spoon deeper into the fluffy mousse and brought it to her mouth. She slowly licked the spoon, which I found incredibly sexy.
We finished the dessert, and I offered to walk her out. It was almost eleven by the time we made our way to the parking lot. I was exhausted from the day's work, and she was yawning the whole way out the door.
"I want to make it up to you. I know this was a lousy first date," she said.
"Not at all. In fact I actually enjoyed myself, but I would be interested in seeing you again soon. Is your schedule pretty flexible?"
"Umm, I work a lot on the weekends, but I am off most mornings. I am technically off on Sundays, but something always seems to happen. I haven't had much need for a social life, so I put a lot of hours in at work. What about Sunday though? I am sure I can work something out." She sounded like she was trying. It did bother me that she would have to change around her life just to spend time with me, but from what I could tell she was a nice person.
I agreed to dinner on Sunday night, not in her hotel, and we parted ways with a quick hug. I had noticed that she smelled my shirt when we embraced; when she stepped back, she looked slightly intoxicated. Silently thanking the makers of Axe Body Spray I held out a steadying hand. "It was so nice to meet you, Claire." I wondered how long it had been since she was close to a man.
She got in a modest sedan, a Toyota maybe, and drove out of sight. The valet attendant drove up and thanked me again for bringing such a cool car.
I wasn't sad that the night was ending. The date had gone well, and I was eager to get some sleep. Jenna had texted confirming we were to meet at ten the next morning, and to quote her text I needed to "bring something I could get wet in."
The beach maybe?
I had no idea what this girl was thinking, and I was so tired at the moment, I didn't care. I stripped down to my boxers and passed out in between the silk sheets as soon as my head touched the pillow.
MORNING CAME TOO early as I had predicted the night before. I woke up around eight thirty, and I rushed to quickly shower and shave before slipping on some cargo shorts and a tight, blue T-shirt. I threw some swimming trunks and a tank top in a bag and headed out the door. I didn't want her to come here, so we were meeting at her fitness studio before heading to our destination.
When I pulled up a few minutes early, I could see right into the room where Jenna was teaching a yoga seminar. I had to turn my head sideways to figure out where her legs began and ended. I doubted my eyes could get any bigger looking at the toned muscles and shapely flesh.
The day was already steaming hot and watching her was about to fog up the windows. I didn't have to wait long for her to come jogging out of the building.
"Hey there, handsome! You ’bout ready to join me for an adventure?" She was so vibrant and full of life, that her energy was contagious.
"Well yes, ma'am. Where are we headed this fine summer day?" I said in my best cowboy impression. She laughed and put her bag in the car. I was happy that she hadn't changed her outfit because she was scorching hot in the tight black ensemble.
"You will just have to wait and see." She smiled, laying her phone on the dashboard. I heard the mysterious female voice telling me to exit the parking lot and turn right. How cool was it that she came prepared with preprogrammed directions. The mystery behind her date was equally exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Who knew where we were headed? I turned the car around and headed down the road. The system said that we were about an hour and a half away from our destination. The conversation flowed until a song came on that I hadn't heard in forever. It was an older song from that movie Grease called Summer Days or Summer Nights.
"May I?" she said.
I motioned to the radio and said, "Feel free." She cranked it up and started dancing with her hands in the air and singing with a less than American Idol voice, but she was hilarious. She had me cracking up the whole way there—wherever there was.
I began to see some signs as we got off the interstate for a water park. I had never been there, but the commercials were all over the TV during the summer. They boasted mile high water slides and a million gallon wave pool. I was excited about trying something new, but I had an eerie feeling that I was about to face some kind of fear.
I looked over at Jenna right after we passed the umpteenth sign, and she sucked in her lips like she was hiding a secret and tried to turn away from me. I reached over and rubbed the side of her chin, and she busted out laughing.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
She just shook her head smiling and said, "You'll see!"
As we approached the water park, t
he smile got bigger, and I started to get excited about playing in the water with Jenna. We parked about a mile from the entrance in the only parking spot left and grabbed our stuff to head inside. The line to enter the park was long as well, but we made light of the time by talking and joking about the slides that we could see. Jenna was challenging me to ride every ride in the park, and had I had any idea what they were like, I wouldn't have accepted.
As soon as we were through the gates, we went to the bathrooms to change. I popped out first wearing my navy blue Ralph Lauren trunks, and I was anxious to see what she was wearing. It didn't disappoint.
"Holy shit," I mumbled when she came bounding out of the dressing room wearing a red polka dot itty-bitty bikini.
"What's that?" she said.
I had to recover, but it wasn't easy. I struggled to find a way to tell her how bad I'd like to take her home instead of down an above the clouds water slide. "I said holy shit, you look amazing." Nice, Drew. Nice recovery. Thank God she didn't slap me; instead she did a little pose showing off the smooth, tanned, toned . . . well, you get the picture.
What happened next was a blur of chlorinated water and scorching hot sun. I was having a great time. A few rides required we sit together on an inner tube. I won't lie that when she slid into my lap and we headed down the slope, I had to think of everything but the way her body felt so close to mine.
She knew it too. She would snuggle deeply back into my arms and scream like she was scared even when I knew she wasn't. I didn't mind though. She felt good there.
It wasn't until we reached the towering slope of the tallest slide on the East Coast that I realized this is why she brought me. I watched from the bottom as someone risked their life for an eight second thrill. I could hear the plastic creaking to support the weight of the gallons of water, and I could see the water pouring out of the leaks, which led any sane man to believe the structure was not sound. "Nah, I don't think so, Jenna. How about I catch you?" She shook her head no, which sent her long hair slinging in different directions. "I mean look at that thing, it’s practically falling apart."