Traces Of Me

by Nikki Summers

  She couldn't help but stare at his body running away from her. His muscular calves and strong arms made her grin. She moaned softly as she turned away from him and ran back to her empty apartment. She has to get over this infatuation, she tells herself as she races up the steps. Just as she's opening the door she catches the reflection of a man behind her. Her blood runs cold as she quickly walks in and shuts the door before turning to look back. There isn't anyone there, her heart is beating way too fast as she unlocks the main door and runs up the stairs to her level, not wanting to wait for the elevator. She locks the door behind her then places the sofa in front of it. Climbing over it, she looks out the peep hole. Relieved she doesn't see anyone she goes to the window, carefully hiding from view and shuts the blinds. Sinking to the floor with her hands covering her head, she feels her body tremble and sobbing noises escape from her, but her tears refuse to fall. She no longer cries because of him.

  Her time in New York is coming to an end. She understands it's only a matter of time until Jay finds her, taking her away with him in the early morning hours. After the fright by her door she changed up her daily routine. Leaving the apartment in the afternoon instead of the morning and walking in the opposite direction, going to a different cafe, four blocks away from her apartment. She stayed away from the park her muse runs in, the one she only recently began running in. She misses her stranger though. She misses writing about what he's wearing, she misses writing about his smile and how he makes her feel. She misses watching the girl behind the counter laugh at his jokes while blushing. She misses seeing the sweat on his face and his disheveled hair as he runs past her, nodding his recognition.

  “I'll miss you mister hot dream man,” she moans as she orders her ticket to Paris, the next big city on her list. From there she plans to go to Rome, London, Dublin and Stockholm. She'd still like to see more cities in the States too but Europe is so far from her pain that she’s determined to go.

  Jay hasn't been in touch, which doesn’t surprise her. He had ordered her to stay in Raleigh and she disobeyed him, for the first time. She didn’t expect to hear from him until he had a reason to come get her. She had sent him a few emails but he never responded. Each time she checked her email a pain in her chest surfaced. Closing her eyes she would envision his hand holding hers, his lips on her forehead or her cheek. There were times she kissed him, there were times he kissed her back. There were nights he laid beside her, sometimes holding her close to his warm body. There were nights he made her feel things she didn’t know were possible for her. He never crossed the line, he never took it further than she could handle. Only once did she cross the line but he didn’t remember it in the morning, his bottle of Jack erasing that night from his memory.

  Jay had always been her safety net, catching her when she felt herself falling but now he’s left her abandoned again, swimming in a sea of strangers with no one to cling to and no one to touch. She's hurt by his absence, the pain turning to anger that he would just ignore her like this. She wants to get as far away from him and her monster as she can. She figures she’ll have to write about ten more books to travel as much as she'd like to unless she delves into her savings.

  Each evening she packs her clothes in her suitcase. She’s satisfied that she could be out the door within minutes if she had to run. Her monster is close, too close. At any minute Jay will probably be at her door, telling her that he's called again. She has a sick feeling though, if he's found her then why hasn't he called yet.

  ‘I have to see my dream man one more time, for my writing,' she convinces herself. Finishing her novel is top priority for her. She has to complete it before she leaves the country since she has no idea when or if she’ll ever be back. Pulling on a grey mini dress with her thigh high brown leather boots, she hopes she looks like a resident of New York instead of a tourist. She wraps a scarf around her neck and picks up her sunglasses. She holds her wig in her hands but then puts it back down. She wants to blend in but she can't bring herself to wear that wig. She brushes out her strawberry blond hair instead and in a moment of rebellion she decides to leave it down for a change.

  She promised herself she would wear her wig once she begins traveling again. A memory of Jay fixing her wig for her makes her sigh. His fingers lightly brushing her temples and his breath on her cheek had made her tremble. She misses him, she can’t deny it. She misses his attention and his gentle touches. She considers emailing him again when she arrives at the cafe.

  After ordering her coffee she sits down at the same seat by the window, waiting and wishing her mystery man would appear before she has to leave. Just one more glimpse so she can finish the story with accuracy.

  She needs to feel the heartfelt sorrow of the passing of two souls in the city never meant to connect. She's typing away on her laptop, lost in thought, when she feels a change in the air. Somehow she can feel his presence in the cafe. Slowly looking up, catching sight of his shoes and his dress pants. He's standing just in front of the door. She cautiously begins looking further up, her heart already beating a mile a minute. Maybe he's talking with someone, waiting for someone, possibly charming some poor girl to death. She slowly raises her head, her eyes taking in all of him, putting it to memory. As she lingers on his strong shoulders she forces herself to look up further, catching his bright beautiful eyes staring at her. His lips turn up in what she thinks is a smile, he looks relieved actually.

  She tries to smile back then returns to her typing, knowing if she stares at him any longer she’ll go insane. She waits a few moments before her need to look at him again overpowers her sense of self dignity. She glances towards the counter just as he turns and walks towards her.

  “Breathe,” she whispers to herself before he reaches her. His dark suit is buttoned up. His perfectly knotted tie matches his dress shirt. He looks serious today. His hair is back, not as tousled as usual.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” he asks. She glances to the empty table beside her then back to him, confused.

  “No, please, I don't mind,” she gestures to the chair in front of her. He sits down slowly, placing his coffee on the table in front of him. His eyes finding hers again, he holds her gaze a moment before speaking.

  “I've missed you. I was beginning to think I would never see you again. My name is Josh, Joshua Martin,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand for her. He sounded relieved and excited to see her. She squints her eyes and feels her cheeks heat as she looks at him.

  “I'm sorry, have we met before?” she asks shyly, feeling awkward, afraid to take his hand, wondering if he has her confused with someone else.

  “No we haven’t met yet, but I am trying to meet you now. Please tell me your name,” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her. His confidence surprises her.

  “I'm Misty Rose,” she tells him, placing her hand slowly in his. It had been so long since she touched another human being, aside from the few moments of contact she stole from Jay. Joshua's warm skin sent a soothing calmness through her. Charlotte held him a little longer than was necessary, not wanting to let go until she had to. She looked back up into his eyes, so bright and mesmerizing. He slowly removed his hand from hers, leaving her suddenly cold. Reminding her just how lonely she has been.

  “Um, I'm sorry, you said you missed me?” she asked nervously, questioning what she thought she heard him say.

  “I've seen you here everyday for weeks and I know you've seen me too. In the park as well, when we've been running,” he said with a grin. She blushed, thinking of the way his body looked, although clothed, his strong calf muscles, sweat on his brow, all of him sent shivers through her.

  “Oh, right, yes I've seen you around too,” she said, trying to sound casual. She glanced out the window then back to him.

  “Well I began to, I mean, when you weren't here or at the park all week I kind of missed you,” he said, almost sounding nervous himself now. He spoke so softly and his words were so sweet. ‘He missed me,' she thought, holding bac
k a grin. She was stunned, words escaped her.

  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so bold, maybe you're seeing someone, although I've only seen you alone,” he continued on. He began to feel a little insecure, losing his confidence for the first time as she didn't respond. He couldn't read her and it made him nervous. She smiled slowly, looking at his hand on the table, wishing he would hold hers again.

  “I'd be lying if I told you I haven't noticed you. I'd also be lying if I told you that I didn't look forward to seeing you, just a glimpse of my charming New York stranger,” she grinned, feeling exposed for the first time.

  “Have dinner with me tonight Misty Rose,” he asked, looking into her eyes. She shuddered when she felt his hand rest gently on top of hers on the table. Her mind was telling her to pull away, to leave but the touch was just too warm, too needed for her to budge.

  “I'm leaving New York in a couple of days. I'm flying to Europe,” she whispered, wanting him to know she couldn't promise him anything. His eyes actually lit up, surprising her.

  “I've been to Europe a number of times. Every country actually, which city are you flying into?” he asked.

  “Paris is my first stop. I've been learning conversational French so I'm hoping I'll get by while I'm there,” she told him.

  “Have dinner with me tonight and I'll give you all the advice I have for traveling in France, please,” he asked again. She needed all the advice she could get and he's the only person she's met that has traveled to Paris.

  “Okay, yes. I would like to go to dinner with you tonight Mr. Martin. Thank you,” she said, absently turning her hand over and grasping his. She just had to feel his skin against hers a little longer. Once she leaves she may never touch anyone for a long time, if ever again. She didn't realize just how intimate that gesture was. To anyone glancing over they would have assumed they were lovers.

  “I'm sorry if I interrupted your writing. I've noticed you can be quite focused on your work,” he said, his fingers still touching her wrist. She warmed at the gentle touch, her heart beating fast and her stomach muscles tensed. He affected her more than Jay ever had and Tyler’s touch never came close to this.

  “You aren't interrupting me. I've actually just started a new project. It hasn't quite decided which way it wants to go yet,” she said as she realized her two souls in the city have met now. His hand slowly released hers and she quickly placed it in her lap. She took a sip of her coffee and he did the same. She watched him as he placed the lid back on his cup. He looked frustrated as he glanced at his cell phone.

  “I actually have a meeting I'm late for, I have to go but can I pick you up at seven?” he asked, standing.

  “Yes, that would be great. I live just two blocks from here, The Rose Terrace apartments,” she said pointing in the direction of her place.

  “Number 516, just buzz when you get there and I'll come down,” she said. He nodded his recognition of the apartment building.

  “Can I have your cell number Misty Rose?” he asked. She felt stupid now for picking that name. She's been using exotic dancer’s names for the past couple of years, making Jay laugh every time she picked a new one. He held his phone in his hand waiting for her to give him her number. She had decided a long time ago that she didn't want one.

  'I'm in hiding, cell phones can be traced. I don't have a credit card in my name. I make withdrawals from my bank in towns I don't live in. I use free Wi-Fi to upload my novels,' she had explained to Jay once when he asked her if he could provide her with one. He knew the dangers of being traced but he didn't like not being able to call her either.

  “I don't, I mean I'm kind of without one at the moment,” she stumbled. He seemed confused but glanced at his cell again, frowning.

  “I have to go but it was so nice to finally meet you Misty. I look forward to our dinner tonight,” he spoke softly, his eyes searching hers before turning away. She watched him leave, missing him already.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~

  Autumn Dream

  She spent the afternoon trying to finish her novel but every time she thought about him her mind just kept focusing on his touch. She eventually gave up and began going through her clothes, looking for something to wear on a date, not that she knew what you're suppose to wear seeing as she had never been on one before. She finally decided on her black knit long-sleeved dress and her mother's pearl earrings. The evenings were getting cooler so the knit would keep her warm. She liked the way it fit, not too tight just skimming her curves. She pulled on her heeled black boots and grabbed her trench coat in case it rained. She had brushed her hair out then gave it a side swept braid, leaving a few loose pieces to soften it. A little make up, curled her lashes and added lip gloss to her purse. She was ready just in time to hear the door buzzer. Her heart skipped a beat as she took the elevator down. She couldn't believe her muse was really at her apartment building. She took a few deep breathes.

  “I can do this,” she repeated to herself before the elevator doors opened. Stepping out the main entrance she watched him slowly turn towards her. It was as though time had stopped. It was all too perfect, her New York City in autumn dream. She took a moment, waiting for it all to come crashing down and stop her in her tracks, but the dream continued. She felt the warm breeze wash over her and the sound of rustling leaves surrounding them. Walking towards him she noticed the way the streetlights highlighted everything. The changing colors of the maple trees that lined her street looked brighter. The red brick of her building, his golden disheveled hair, his perfect skin and his bright, penetrating eyes as they stabbed into her, all of it appeared too intense. She took a deep breath trying to calm her racing heart. Her muscles clenched and dizziness took hold of her. She reached for the railing as he stood beside her, taking her hand as they descended the stairs to the sidewalk. Her dream was coming to life, he smiled, still staring into her deep troubled soul.

  “You look beautiful tonight Misty,” he said, lifting her hand in his, kissing it slowly. His lips sent a shiver through her that she had never felt before.

  “Thank you,” she said, sounding breathy, more from the feeling he just gave her than the compliment. They walked a few blocks west to a restaurant he made reservations at. He held the door open for her and as they entered together he was greeted by the hostess immediately.

  “Mr. Martin, your table is ready,” she said. Charlotte glanced at him, surprised she knew it was him before he told her. They were seated at a table near the back, very private and candlelit. She watched the flame dance for a moment before looking up at his strong, handsome face, his dark eyebrows framing those bright eyes that had captivated her a month ago. She couldn't resist taking him in again, picturing her finger tracing his high cheekbones lowering to his strong jaw and the little bit of stubble beginning to appear on his chin. She gazed at him as his lips formed into a sweet smile. She couldn't stop herself from memorizing his face, she wanted to remember it. She needed to bring it with her. On the long cold nights that awaited her she wanted to be able to close her eyes and picture his perfect face in front of her, just as he is now.

  The waiter brought drinks and appetizers as per Josh's order. She was agreeable to everything he suggested.

  “This is a really nice place. Have you been here before?” she asked, wondering if he brings all his dates here. That would explain how the hostess knew him.

  “No, but I've heard that the atmosphere and food is wonderful, a hidden gem in the city. It came recommended by my assistant,” he said. She smiled as she nibbled on the food in front of her.

  “I know we just officially met today but I feel like I've known you since I first saw you at the cafe, almost a month ago. You were writing away then abruptly you stopped and looked up. I wasn't sure if you caught me staring at you or not, you appeared to be lost in another world, seeing things no one else could. Your expression never changed and then you went back to your writing. I was so intrigued by you,” he said as he leaned in closer, watchin
g her for a response.

  “I remember that day. I did see you,” she said blushing. She was grateful the lighting in the restaurant hid it.

  “It was actually strange that day. I've never been in that cafe before. I have a secretary that goes for me but that morning she was called away on a family emergency so I found the name of the cafe she gets my morning coffee from and decided to go myself. The next day my temporary assistant offered to go for me, but I wanted to see if maybe you would be there again, so everyday after that I went. Seeing you glance at me then continue your work became something I actually looked forward to,” he said grinning, watching her closely again. She felt hypnotized by his words, so sweet and so romantic, she wished she had written them.

  “I wrote about you sometimes,” she confessed, surprising herself.

  “I’d like to read it,” he replied, smiling. The waiter interrupted, relieving her of the thick air surrounding them, allowing her to breath. He took their orders then left them alone again. She was surprised the waiter didn’t ask her for her ID. She took a long sip of her wine then looked back at Josh.

  “Are you traveling alone in Europe?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I always travel alone,” she told him without thinking. Maybe that's something normal girls don't do, she thought afterward.

  “I don't think it's safe and you said you don't have a cell phone. How do you stay in touch with your family? Won't they worry about you?” he asked, sounding so concerned. He noticed her flinch when he mentioned family, knowing there was a story there but decided not to push her.

  “I have no one to call, no one to worry about me,” she told him simply, forcing herself to hide the pain threatening to surface. Why have a phone if it will never ring, she thought but didn't say aloud.