by Ellie Danes
She considered this for a while... and then she smiled. “All right. That I can accept. The deadline is the end of the week though, so you'd better come up with something quickly.”
“I'll get it to you before the end of the week, I promise,” I said. “So, it's a deal then?”
“Deal,” she said, and we shook hands – and again I had the feeling of raw electricity passing from her skin to mine as we touched.
I walked out with a grin on my face that stayed there for the rest of the day. Things were looking up on the romance front... they were definitely looking up.
CHAPTER 7
Skye
I had to admit, I had been really taken aback by how readily Colin had simply offered to pay for my classes. It had helped take the sting off how bad I felt for arriving late and hungover – God, my head was pounding with a terrible headache, and I wanted to throw up. I had known right away, when I first caught him checking me out, that he was into me. I just hadn't realized how into me he was.
And yes, I was definitely attracted to him as well. I couldn't take my eyes off him; not only because he was handsome, but because he had an obvious sense of style and fashion; he was a classy gentleman, the type of man I had often fantasized about being with, but never thought I would actually meet in reality.
But I still couldn't believe that he had simply offered to pay for my classes as if 7500 dollars were simply nothing! What kind of money did this guy have?! I knew he was rich, I could easily tell that from the way he dressed and the labels he wore, but wow, to just give that much money to someone who was pretty much a total stranger...
Still, as tempting as it had been, there was no way I could accept the offer. I had always clung stubbornly to my pride, and I had never begged or asked for charity from anyone, and I sure as hell wasn't about to start now. I felt like accepting his offer to go on a date if his entry into the auction won was an acceptable compromise though. Because, you see, I did want to go on a date with him – I just didn't want the sense of obligation and baggage that would come with it had I accepted his first offer. Now I just had to wait and see what he would bring. And, of course, get through the day without throwing up all over myself... Alcohol. This was why I hardly ever drank...
SATURDAY MORNING
I hadn't gone to the auction on Friday night because I'd had to work a shift at the restaurant, and because it was a weekend night it had been a longer one than usual. I had no idea what had happened at the auction either because my phone had died halfway through my waitressing shift and my charger was back at the shelter. I had plugged in the phone when I'd gotten back, but had crawled into bed, exhausted, and had fallen asleep right away. Now that I had woken up, I saw that there were a number of missed calls and messages on my phone.
I opened the first one, from Gwen, with a sense of anticipation buzzing electricity through my veins. I wondered what it would say...
I had to admit, I had been pleasantly surprised with Colin's offering for the auction. He had shown up at the last minute and given it to me, literally twenty minutes before the deadline. As he had said, it had not been a very expensive item, which I was thankful for, because I didn't want to feel like I owed him. It had, however, been something utterly unique: a hardcover set of George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books, all autographed personally by the author himself, thanking the buyer—whose name he would personally fill in if the books were sent by courier back to him—for participating in this fundraising auction. My jaw had dropped when I had seen the autographs, but Colin had simply chuckled and said, “George is a friend of mine, and I called in a favor he owed me.”
It had been a pretty damn unique offering, that much was for sure. Everyone who had seen it had been positive that it would win. Now I was about to find out whether it had. I opened the message from Gwen.
“Well done, Skye!” the message said. “Your entry won the most money at the auction last night! Your prize, as you know, is free lessons at the studio. You can start them next month.”
I wanted to jump out of my bed and dance for joy in the middle of the shelter, scream and shout and roll around on the ground – but I didn't. I simply smiled to myself and breathed in a deep breath of sweet satisfaction. It was amazing that things were finally going right for me... really amazing.
There was also a message from Colin, as expected. He had attended the auction to see how his offering would fare.
“Hi, beautiful,” the message said. “I see my books won the auction. I guess that means you owe me a date. You said you'd be free next Friday night, so let me know where you live, and I'll pick you up from there at eight.”
There was no way I could let him pick me up from here. No. Not a chance. I typed a quick reply to him.
I'll go out with you on Friday night, as I agreed to, but I'm sorry, I'd feel a lot safer if I could just meet you somewhere rather than have you pick me up. Nothing personal, I just had a bad experience with a guy picking me up on a date and then trying to do bad things to me in his car. I hope you understand.
It was a lie, that much was true, but I had to keep this secret from him. I waited in suspense for his reply, hoping that he wasn't offended. It came a few seconds later.
No problem, Skye. I understand completely. I'll meet you at Dorsia at eight. Tell the maître d' you have a reservation under West. See you then!
THURSDAY NIGHT
I was the last one in the studio after closing time, and I had just finished sweeping the floor of the main dance room, my final task for the day. Since I was alone, I went over to the CD player and put in my own CD, which had the track I had done as a teenager, the one I was going to dance to in the competition that I never got to compete in due to running away from home.
I hadn't danced to it for a while, but I still remembered all the moves. As it had all those years ago, the music started flowing through me, fusing with my blood and the electricity that moved through my body, and I began dancing with the same passion and intensity and graceful fluidity of movement that I had all those years ago. It felt amazing, to be able to do this in a real studio once again, and I put every ounce of my passion and energy into it.
And then, as I did my final move and the notes faded out, I was shocked to hear a single pair of hands applauding.
I looked up, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and saw Gwen standing in the doorway, clapping and smiling.
“That was amazing,” she said. “Truly. I'm impressed, very impressed.”
“I thought I was alone in here,” I said sheepishly.
She chuckled. “I did leave, but realized when I was halfway home that I had left my phone in my office, so I came back – and good thing I did. I'm glad I got to see that.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And by the way, I just want to say I'm sorry again about arriving late the other day. It was a terrible, terrible thing to do on my second day.”
“Don't worry,” she said. “We all slip up sometimes. Just do your best to make sure it doesn't happen again. Anyway, I must be off. Make sure you turn the lights off when you leave.”
“I will.”
I locked up a few minutes later, still feeling charged up from dancing. In fact, I was feeling so fired up from it that I almost didn't notice the man across the street who was staring intently at me. He was a middle-aged guy, very rough looking, with scars on his bald head and a lot of tattoos. He grinned when he saw me, and started to try to cross the street, heading in my direction. I hurried into the safety of a dense crowd and pushed through the mass of people quickly. I turned around after five minutes of very brisk walking and was relieved to see that I seemed to have lost him. Still, I couldn't help feeling shaken up. Who was this guy, and what did he want with me? I hoped that I wouldn't see him again, but an instinct inside me told me that I probably would...
CHAPTER 8
Colin
I guided the razor over the curve of my chin carefully; I didn't want to nick myself and leave an unsightly cut, no
t right before a date. The stroke was perfect, thankfully, and with that I washed the last of the shaving foam from my face and looked in the mirror.
Come on, Colin, you can do this. Cool, calm, confident and slick – that's you.
It had been a while since I’d had to give myself a confidence-boosting pep talk in a mirror, but then again, that was because it had been quite a long while since I had been on a date – well, at least a date of my own choosing. I had been on plenty of dates over the past few years, but I hadn't felt nervous before any of them, because they had all been set up for me by friends, or had been the result of women who I wasn't that interested in asking me out, to which I had reluctantly agreed. And not a single one of those dates had resulted in a second date. It hadn't been the girls' fault; it had been mine. I couldn't help that I was extremely picky when it came to women. I couldn't help that there were very specific things that I found attractive, and I couldn't help that there was no way I could force attraction, or bring myself to want to be with someone who I wasn't intensely attracted to.
This date, of course, was entirely different. Finally, I was going out with someone I had asked out, someone I lusted after, someone who had caught my eye and held my gaze from the very first moment I had laid eyes on her – and that made me nervous, because it was something that hadn't happened in a very long time.
Still, I liked the feeling – it was a good kind of nervousness, a pleasant kind of pressure, and I was eager to get to the restaurant and get the date underway. I found myself wondering what Skye would look like all dressed up and all made up... and the thought of this got blood flowing rapidly to a certain area of my anatomy. No, no! It wasn't the right time for those sort of thoughts, not now.
I made sure my hair was perfect – I had just been to my stylist earlier today, so it pretty much was – and then I got dressed in an Armani suit and headed out.
I arrived at Dorsia half an hour later, ten minutes early for the date, and took a seat at the table reserved for Skye and myself. Two minutes later, Skye walked in, dressed in high heels and a stunning, figure-hugging red cocktail dress that accentuated her gorgeous curves. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare too hard at her as I stood up to pull out her chair for her.
“You look utterly amazing,” I said. “You're the most beautiful woman in this room by a long shot.”
She blushed. “Wow, thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”
“Where did you get that dress?” I asked.
“To be honest... I found it in a thrift store,” she said, looking embarrassed. I think she had chosen to tell the truth because perhaps she wasn't a very good liar – or maybe because she wanted to see how I could react to something like that.
I smiled. “Well, that was a great find for you then, wasn't it? You could almost say though, that the dress found you, couldn't you? I doubt its former owner could hold a candle to you, with how you look in it.”
She blushed again, and I thought it somewhat unusual that someone so pretty wasn't used to flattery and compliments. Still, I didn't want to pry about such things now.
A waiter came up to our table. “Would you like to order some drinks?”
I looked across at Skye. “Do you have any preference when it comes to wine?”
She simply shook her head.
“All right, then please bring us a bottle of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“Of course, sir. Here are the starter menus.”
He handed both myself and Skye a starter menu, and we began to look through them.
“I've had the lobster frittata here before, and it's to die for,” I said. “Have you been here before? I'd recommend that as a starter if you haven't.”
“I um, no, I've never been here. So, yeah, I guess I'll go with that.”
“You won't regret it,” I said with a smile. “As for me, I'm thinking the duck and morel mushroom pâté en croûte. I haven't tried Dorsia's version, but a few friends have told me that it's excellent.”
“I guess it must be then,” she said.
I could tell that she was feeling a little out of place here, so I decided to steer the topic away from the gourmet dishes.
“So, why don't you tell me about your dancing?” I said. “Now that you've got your free lessons, what are you going to focus on?”
“Ballet has always been my favorite,” she said, suddenly seeming a lot more animated and excited to talk. “But, at my age, I’m a little past prime for getting into any good companies. So, I am thinking of focusing on Latin.”
“Really? That's fantastic,” I said with a smile. “I love Latin stuff as well. I learned to play guitar Spanish style when I was a teenager. I hardly ever have time to play these days, but I love picking it up and giving it a good passionate strumming when I can.”
“'Passionate' – now there's a word I like. It's one of the most important things in life, don't you think? To live with passion, to move with passion, to feel it flowing through your veins...”
The way she said that gave me goosebumps, and I found myself getting lost in her eyes – and in her attitude toward life, because it mirrored my own.
“I can relate to that,” I said with a smile. “I really can. Life is nothing without raw, intense, fiery passion...”
We talked some more, and the conversation flowed easily and fluidly between us. We discovered that we had more in common than just taste in music and a desire to live passionately. However, after the main course, while we were waiting for dessert, when I tried to steer the conversation to matters more personal to her, like her past and where she currently lived, she became quite guarded.
“Well, I stay a few blocks from here,” she said, not giving me any specifics. “It's an um, a nice enough place, I guess.”
She looked very relieved when the waiter brought our dessert so that she could change the topic.
“Wow, this black forest cake looks amazing!” she exclaimed. “And it's so beautifully-made, too... I almost feel guilty taking a bite out of it.”
“You'd better take a photograph of it first,” I said.
“Oh, um, my phone, it doesn't, uh, it doesn't take very good pictures,” she said.
Come to think of it, she hadn't taken her phone out at all during the date. On the one hand, that was a good thing, as a lot of my previous dates had spent a lot more time staring at their screens than they had talking to me. However, I couldn't help wondering if there was something she was trying to hide.
I didn't push her though. Instead, I passed my phone, with its forty-one-megapixel camera, over to her.
“This takes photos that are almost as good as a DSLR camera's,” I said. “Use mine, and I'll send you the pic.”
She smiled. “All right!”
She took a picture of the cake, and then we dug in. Like the rest of the food we had eaten here, it was magnificent. I asked for the bill, and then, emboldened by the wine we had had, I asked if she wanted to go for a walk before going home. She agreed, and after I paid the bill we walked across the street to a small, quaint park, and took a leisurely stroll under the stars. I slipped my hand into hers and felt a thrill rush through me as she intertwined her fingers with mine and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
“It's an unusually clear evening,” I said. “Look up – you can actually see some stars in the Manhattan sky.”
She looked up and smiled. “People don't do that enough – look up at the stars, I mean.”
“I agree,” I said. “In fact, they rarely pay enough attention to any beauty. But me – I like beauty, I like it a lot. And despite how spectacular a starry sky is, it can't match what's inches away from me right now.”
We stared deeply into one another's eyes, and then I knew I had to do it – I made my move. I leaned in for the kiss, and she didn't resist. No, she leaned in, too, and our lips met and parted, and then my tongue was in her mouth, and fireworks were exploding through my mind in ferocious blooms of bright colors. We kissed passionately for a good f
ew moments, and when our lips finally parted, I had a smile on my face that I didn't think anything could erase. However, I had a confession to make to her... and I didn't think it was right to wait any longer to say it.
“That was amazing,” I said to her. “You are amazing... But there's something I have to tell you...”
CHAPTER 9
Skye
Colin's expression had changed somewhat as he had said this. Now he looked a lot less relaxed, and less confident, almost as if he was about to admit to some sort of wrongdoing.
“All right, you can tell me,” I said, trying to sound warm and understanding.
He breathed in a deep breath and then released it in a long sigh before speaking. “Anna isn't my daughter.”
“She's not?” I asked, surprised.
“No, she isn't. She's my personal assistant's daughter. I just gave her a ride to the studio because her mother was busy doing work for me.”
I nodded slowly as I processed this. “Oh... So, uh, why didn't you tell me that before?”
He chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I guess because I wanted to impress you. I was going to tell you, but then you said how it was so sweet and stuff that I was a good dad, and I... I just wanted the illusion to last. I'm sorry. I really should have told you earlier.”
“So, you don't have any children then? And you were never married?”
He shook his head. “No, I've never been married.”
On the one hand, I felt quite flattered that he had gone to such lengths just to get to know me, but on the other hand, I now felt a little wary of him, because he'd been deceiving me this whole time.
“Well, I guess that's a good thing. And thanks for coming clean about that,” I said to him. I didn't really know what else to say, and besides, I couldn't be too angry or upset at this point, because I was still glowing from the intensity of the kiss we had shared, which had to have been one of the best kisses of my life.