Uncorked

by Rebecca Rohman

  “This is really beautiful. Thanks for having me here.”

  “It’s been a pleasure. Thanks for accepting my invitation. Paul and Jason were wrong about you.”

  Intrigued by his response, she smiled and asked, “Why? What did they say? I didn’t know they had discussed me with you, or anyone else for that matter.”

  “They said you’re a great person, but in all the time they’ve known you, you’re usually solo with maybe two or three exceptions they can remember.”

  “That’s true. And exactly when did you have this conversation about me?”

  “Truth is, they mentioned you about a week ago. They said they’d introduce us sometime. I didn’t know it would be under the circumstances we met last night.”

  “Okay.”

  “So tell me—why is a beautiful woman like you usually solo?”

  “I’m a little apprehensive about people, especially the opposite sex,” she replied, a little surprised that she was actually able to admit that to him.

  “Really? You’re here with me.”

  “I figured a friend of Paul and Jason couldn’t be so bad.”

  “Is that so?” he replied with a curious smile.

  Okay, change of topic.

  “Who taught you to cook like that? Dinner was amazing.”

  “Well, my mom always said that good food was a way to a woman’s heart.”

  “Really? Do you cook for lots of women?” Chella said, flashing the type of smile that could allow her to get away with murder.

  “A few,” he answered.

  A few? Yeah, right. “I’m putting you on the spot, aren’t I? I like honesty, no matter how much it might hurt.”

  “No, you’re not putting me on the spot. It’s the first in a long time and the first here in San Diego. Let’s just say that I’ve done my fair share of dinners.”

  “And women, too.” Wow! We’re getting mighty brave…

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Not particularly. I guess you wouldn’t be a man if you hadn’t gone through that stage in your life.”

  “Do you always have such a high opinion of the male species?” Mitch said, somewhat sarcastic.

  “Not particularly. We just have to take responsibility for the decisions we make as adults, and be honest about it, to ourselves and to the parties involved.”

  “Well, can I be honest with you about something?”

  “Always.”

  “I like you, Chella. I like you a lot, and right now I’d really like to kiss you.”

  She was shocked by his statement. Unable to respond, she looked away, flushed.

  Mitch did not give her a chance to respond. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her deeply on the lips, and pulled her into his arms.

  However taken aback Chella might have been, it did not show, for she responded with just as much intensity and passion. She drew him closer. Her hand roamed over his chest, his neck. She felt his awesome body beneath the light sweater he wore. His kisses were sweet and her body ached for more, but her mind would not allow her to continue with what her heart desired.

  Fears rushed in. She remembered her past, her ex, Aaron. She couldn’t allow herself to get involved with another man on this level, not even after all these years. She couldn’t subject herself to that sort of pain, not now, not ever. Aaron was responsible for her not being able to have kids, and she still had the emotional scars to prove it. Letting another man in would open painful wounds, and she just wasn’t ready for that.

  Chella pulled away. “Mitch, this can’t happen. I can’t get involved with you, or anyone. I’m sorry.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, but began collecting her things to leave.

  “Look, Chella, I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I apologize, but let’s talk about this. Please, let’s not end the night like this.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Mitch. I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong, but I must go. We’ll talk another time.”

  Flustered, she scrambled out the door, took the elevator down, and caught a cab as she exited the main entrance. Through the taxi’s back window, she saw Mitch run out of the lobby in an effort to stop her but stopped short as he watched her drive away.

  He was too late.

  How the hell did I manage to scare her away like that? Mitch knew that she was reserved, and he could feel her holding back, but he thought they had made progress that afternoon. He wasn’t sure what he had done to cause her to run, but by the way she responded to his kiss, he knew she reciprocated his feelings.

  Maybe this was beyond him. The day before he had noticed a Taser and knife in her purse. She was afraid of something or someone—he didn’t know—but he wished she had confided in him.

  He wondered if she would speak to him again. He had already tried to reach her three times, and she wouldn’t answer his calls of any of his messages. Perhaps he just needed to give her some space and let her contact him when she was ready.

  Chella couldn’t sleep that night. She couldn’t get the evening out of her head. Mitch wasn’t the problem. She was. Over the past ten or eleven years, she had experienced much pain, and she did not want to go through that again. Would she ever be able to trust another man? If she did, would he do to her what Aaron did? Sure, Mitch had all the boyish charm in the world, but could she risk taking the chance of hurting herself again? She decided not now, not yet, possibly not ever.

  Then, there was the other problem of seeing Aaron that afternoon. Was it coincidence, or was he stalking her again?

  Mitch tried calling her several times that night and the following day, but she had already decided what would be best for her. No matter how much he tried to convince her, her mind was made up. She decided they could be friends, but their relationship would be strictly platonic. However, with the way she’d been thinking about him from the time their eyes first met, she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure if platonic was possible.

  She sent him a text message the following day to explain.

  Chella Noon

  Sunday December 5, 2010

  11:04AM

  Hey, Mitch. I just wanted to thank you for a great day yesterday. I’m sorry for the way I left, but I’m just not ready for any relationship of this sort in my life. Please know that you did nothing wrong. This is all on me. I promise. I wish you all the best. Hope you have a great day and happy holidays.

  She nervously waited to see if he’d respond. A few seconds later, her cell phone vibrated on the glass coffee table.

  Mitch Mariani

  Sunday December 5, 2010

  11:06AM

  Thank you for a great day, too. I’m sorry it ended that way. I’d like to get to know you better, but I respect your wishes. Please feel free to call me anytime. I’d really like us to be friends.

  Later that day, Chella received a bouquet of flowers from Mitch, along with an apology card. The sentiment was sweet. He had nothing to apologize for. She thoroughly enjoyed that kiss, but she wasn’t quite sure how to keep him at a fair distance while explaining to him that he’d done nothing wrong.

  She sent him an email thanking him, but when he started probing her with questions, she chose not to respond.

  Over the next few weeks, Mitch continued to pursue her. He’d send her cute emails and text messages. Sometimes, she would respond, but she never had the guts to answer any of his calls.

  When she returned home from work on Christmas Eve, she was surprised at the beautiful white poinsettia arrangement the housekeeping staff had delivered to her room. Pulling the card out of the envelope, she smiled as she read Mitch’s words.

  I wish you a very Merry Christmas…

  Hope you enjoy the holidays…

  I’ll be thinking of you.

  xoxox

  Mitch

  Her heart skipped a beat as she read his words. Even with the distance between them, she couldn’t shake the feelings she had when this man communicated with her. She was still afraid to let him in, despite his efforts.
He had struck a chord within her. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt it, and it terrified her. In response to his flowers, she sent him a gift basket, which included a bottle of his favorite wine, Opus One, along with a thank you card. She decided it would be her last communication with him.

  On Christmas day, Chella was getting ready to go over to Craig and Maggie’s for dinner when her cell phone vibrated on the bathroom vanity. The message read:

  Mitch Mariani

  Sunday December 25, 2010

  5:14PM

  Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you. Hope you’re having a Merry Christmas.

  Enjoy what’s left of today.

  Her mind told her to cut all communications with him, but he wasn’t making it easy for her. She found it hard to ignore his message, so she responded.

  Chella Noon

  Sunday December 25, 2010

  5:25PM

  That’s really sweet of you. Thank you for thinking of me. Merry Christmas to you, too. I’m just heading out to dinner at my boss’ house right now.

  Enjoy the rest of your evening.

  Thanks again.

  The driver arrived to pick her up for dinner. As she rode in the backseat of the car, her text message tone sounded again.

  Mitch Mariani

  Sunday December 25, 2010

  5:35PM

  I’d like it if we could talk. Can I call you later?

  As she read his words, she knew he was getting too close. She never responded.

  Chapter Two

  Since the holidays, Chella decided that it would be best to keep a low profile and keep her eyes open. She hadn’t seen Aaron again, so it looked like the encounter was by chance and he wasn’t following her. She hadn’t gone out in a couple of months for fear of running into both Aaron and Mitch. Neither was she up to facing Vicky and Kacy’s long line of questions she knew they’d ask regarding her and Mitch. Not that she was ever able to get him out of her system or forget that kiss—that passionate kiss that burned and left a scar on her lips.

  She scanned her refrigerator for something to eat, but nothing stirred her appetite. She was tired of Chinese takeout and fast food was out of the question. She decided she’d pick up some dinner at the restaurant across the street.

  It was a beautiful evening for a walk. The sun had already begun its decent, and there was an array of vivid color in the sky. The usual Friday night scene greeted her, with large parties and lots of groups and stragglers still hanging around on the outside deck from happy hour. The restaurant was much quieter on the inside.

  At the take-out counter, the host apologized because there was a delay in her order, but offered her a complimentary drink. She sat at the bar, enjoying a glass of white wine. Her gaze drifted through the dimly lit dining room, and she spotted a familiar face. Mitch was having dinner with a foxy brunette. He held her hand and kissed her the way he once did Chella.

  She could not bear it. She took a swig of wine, returned to the take-out counter for her food and went straight home.

  She couldn’t get the picture of Mitch and that girl out of her head.

  “How could I ever be so jealous?” Chella asked herself aloud.

  She was more than jealous. Possibly even a little upset, a little hurt, and a little betrayed. But you have no right to feel this way. You had your chance and you blew it. You can’t expect the man to put his life on hold for you. You had plenty of opportunities, and you continue to have them…if only you’d respond to his emails or text messages or phone calls.

  When she arrived home, her appetite was gone. She shoved the food in the refrigerator. She sat on the couch, aimlessly perusing through channels, but she was really thinking about Mitch. The images of him with that other woman were plastered in her mind. What she truly hated was the way she felt: jealous and regretful.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  Who the hell could that be?

  Looking through the peephole, she saw it was Mitch. She gasped at the sight of him. Butterflies took flight and had a wild party in her stomach. She pulled away from the door, not saying a word. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, or how she should handle Mitch being on her doorstep.

  “I know you’re home, Chella. I see your reflection under the door.”

  Shit! Shit! Shit! What’s he doing here?

  Squeezing her eyes shut and combing her curly brown hair with her fingers, she responded, “Just give me a second.”

  In a nearby mirror, she straightened her hair and the short navy tank dress she wore, checked to make sure her face and teeth were okay, checked her breath then opened the door.

  “Hi, what are you doing here?”

  “Hello to you, too. How are you?”

  “Surprised to see you here.”

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “What if I said no?”

  “Then I suppose I’d be left with no choice but to stand in your doorway talking to you.”

  “And what if I closed the door?”

  “Then I’d really have to get comfortable sitting on your doorstep.”

  She looked at him, smiling, then sighed, “Fine. Come in. Would you like a drink?”

  “Yeah, sure. A glass of wine would be nice, if you have any.”

  “Chardonnay or Shiraz?”

  “Either would do. How’s your wrist?”

  “Much better, thanks. It’s almost back to normal.”

  She couldn’t help but notice how fantastic Mitch looked, dressed in black, wearing black jeans that hugged his ass and a black zipper sweater tight enough to his tall built muscular body to give a hint of what was underneath. A few strands of his dark hair fell onto his forehead, and there was a glimmer in his hazel-green eyes.

  Handing him a glass of Chardonnay, Chella said, “So how have you been? All settled in from your move?”

  “Mostly. I was out of town for a few days.”

  “What brings you here? After seeing you with that beauty tonight, here would be the last place I’d expect to see you.” She couldn’t help but sound a little bit sarcastic.

  “What are you talking about? I just came back from visiting my mom in Santa Monica. Vicky and Jason were with me. I dropped them off and decided to drop by to say hello. I’m sorry if you’re upset about my not calling, but it was a spur-of-the-moment thought, and I knew you wouldn’t answer my call anyway.”

  I must have been mistaken. He wouldn’t lie to me about being with Vicky and Jason when he knows we’re friends.

  She ignored his last comment, then replied, “I was at the restaurant across the street about a half hour ago, and I could have sworn it was you I saw having dinner with a brunette.” Shit that sounded very, very jealous.

  “My, my. Are we jealous? At the thought of it being me, anyway,” Mitch replied tartly, with a smirk on his face.

  “I’m not,” She quickly retorted, her blushing face betraying her. “It’s just so strange that I thought I saw you earlier, and now you’re here.”

  “Right. Is that what you’ve been telling yourself? You know the offer is still open if you want to change your mind.”

  “And what offer it that?”

  “The one to get to know me, go out on a date. You had quite an effect on me the last time you made that grand exit at my place,” he replied, smiling.

  So did you. If only you knew. You’re such a flirt!

  “I’m just not ready.”

  “What are you afraid of? I like you, and I know you like me. A woman doesn’t kiss a man the way you did unless she’s attracted to him.”

  “Why won’t you just back off?”

  “Because deep down, you and I both know you don’t want me to.”

  “You’re mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “If it’s not true then look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”

  “I… I can’t…” Her voice was shaky. She was overwhelmed with emotion. She couldn’t bring herself to lo
ok at him.

  “Chella, why are you trying so hard to fight this?”

  Just being in his presence drove her mind crazy, and she could not get the images of their kiss out of her mind or the feel of his hands against her skin. She had the craziest thought—Just tell him everything, from beginning to end. If she pondered it too much, she would talk herself out of it. So without further hesitation, she blurted out the truth.

  “Because I’m a little afraid,” Chella replied, exposing her most intimate vulnerabilities. “Okay, I’m not a little afraid. I’m a lot afraid.”

  “Of what?” Mitch said.

  “I’ve had a really hard and complicated past Mitch. A really, really complicated past. It might send you running. Scare you away type-of-stuff.”

  “Haven’t we all? Chella, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I’ll be honest with you. You can trust that whatever you tell me will be kept between the two of us. You can believe that, and unless you’re a mass murderer or a crazy stalker, I don’t think you need to be worried about me running for the hills just yet. I don’t think you have any clue how much I like you.”

  She gazed into his eyes, nervous, hesitant. She could almost hear her heart racing.

  He sandwiched her hands between his, looked directly into her eyes, and said, “Trust me, Chella.”

  It was almost an appeal.

  She took a deep breath and said, “The only people who know in detail what I am about to tell you are my dead parents and my ex-boyfriend, Aaron. Just before my parents died, I was seventeen when I got pregnant. Let’s just say my boyfriend at the time was not happy about it. He became very abusive. So abusive I had to get a restraining order against him.”

  “Chella, I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. I lost the baby.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to contain herself. She felt the rapid pulse in her chest all the way to her sweaty palms. As she remembered that day, the images flooded her mind—the hurt, the fear, the anger she felt when the doctor broke the news to her in his cold, sterile office.