by Brynn North
“That’s great. I used to write. I miss having time for hobbies” he said, a little wistfully.
“Yeah?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, I spent too many years raising my kids, taking care of the family. But I’m looking forward to the next big thing in life now, you know?”
I nodded a little hesitantly. Vi didn’t tell me Rick had kids, but then again, at his age, it was hardly a surprise either. And not like it was a big deal. His kids were probably adults or close to it.
“So, what do you think is your next big thing?” I decided to steer clear of the obvious question about his family. Luckily, the waiter arrived just then with our food, saving me from that topic.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said cheerfully, cutting a bite of his steak. It looked amazing too, with the juices flowing out from the crisp edges. Suddenly I regretted my chicken. He caught me looking.
“Sharing more dinners with a beautiful young woman, maybe,” he said in a teasing voice, sliding a sizable piece over to my plate. I almost swooned. Would the manners on this guy ever end? Was dating really this easy?
“So, by the way, are those Ds?” he asked abruptly.
“What?” I asked, mouth full of steak and completely caught off guard. Were what Ds?
“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, that is.” He continued to cut into his steak like this was a normal question.
I blinked at him, still confused about what he was asking. He gestured to my chest with his fork. “It’s just that it’s so hard to find a woman who is intelligent and beautiful. I’m very attracted to you. Intelligence is incredibly sexy to me.”
It hit me then that he was asking about my bra size. A shock went through me. Was it normal to ask about bra sizes on a first date? If so, this was news to me. And if intelligence was so sexy to him, then why would my bra size even matter?
I decided to ignore the conversation. Sure, it was rude as hell, but I haven’t been on a first date in so long that I didn’t know what was normal anymore. Seemed like an odd topic, but I decided he had enough decent qualities that maybe I’d overlook this one for now.
Instead of answering, I laughed it off. “Well, thank you,” I said demurely, and changed the subject. ”What did you think of the wine? It went well with the steak, didn’t it?”
Luckily that seemed to work, and he changed the subject to various trips he had taken to Napa and even the French wine country.
“That sounds amazing,” I said in amazement after he described the beautiful French countryside. “I’ve been to Paris, but only for a few days, and never beyond the city. I would have loved to see that part of France.”
“Yeah,” he said, his tone a touch bitter. “Wish my travel companion could have said the same thing.”
“Oh?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the rest but not sure I knew what else to say.
“My ex-wife,” he said by way of explanation. “She complained the whole time. Just wanted to do some shopping. Couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the countryside. Not like you would have.”
Okay, now I was seriously getting turned off. How did this guy know I wouldn’t also want to go shopping? One can only look at the river and fields for so long. But before I could point this out to him, he went on.
“Not to mention we hadn’t had sex in years at that point. Her libido was so low. And when I could rally her up, it was boring. She never tried. Imagine that. Going all the way to the most romantic country in the world and not getting laid.”
Well, we officially ventured into what the fuck territory. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said blandly as I reached for my wineglass, wondering if this guy had ever considered any part he had in the situation. I gulped at my wine. The faster it was empty, the faster we’d get the check.
He didn’t even notice. “I bet someone like you, though, with your looks and intelligence, would have a high libido, am I right?”
“That’s not something I’m going to discuss at the dinner table,” I said tightly, trying to search for the waiter to give the signal I was done.
“I’m sorry, of course not. You’re a lady, I should have known. Intelligent, sexy, and good manners. You have it all, don’t you?”
I reeled in shock as I watched him look me up and down while saying it, feeling incredibly objectified. It pissed me right off that he felt he had the right to talk to me like that, talk to any woman like that. I wasn’t here for his viewing pleasure, and neither was any woman on the planet.
I was angry at him. Angry I was even in this situation in the first place. Angry I had to go through the motions of first dates with shitty, disrespectful men. Anger built up in me as I sat there, stewing until I snapped. “Rick, it’s rude as fuck to comment about my appearance the way you have been doing all evening.” My voice shot out so loud that the people at the table next to us turned to look.
“But why?” he asked, his voice genuinely puzzled. “A gorgeous woman like yourself deserves to be complimented.”
That did it. It was bad enough he said those things to me, but to actually not understand why it was so terrible? Why it wasn’t wanted, especially after less than three hours of knowing me? How was he building up this vision of who I was in his head, without even knowing me?
“It’s apparent you know nothing about women. Next time you ask someone about her bra size on a date, or how good she is in bed, ask yourself if you’d want your daughter to hear the same question from a stranger.” I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up. I gave a little wistful look at the dessert on the table next to us. The crème brûlée looked amazing.
Whatever, I thought with a hair toss that would make Lizzo proud. I didn’t need some sexist, creepy man to eat crème brûlée with. I could buy my own crème brûlée.
Since he had an utterly clueless expression, I filled him in a bit more. “You didn’t know who was across the table from you. Hell, it didn’t even matter to you who I was. All that mattered to you is that I was younger, attractive, and that you could create a narrative about who I was as a person. And I will not sit here and be your external validation and allow you to make me into some woman in your head that I am most certainly not.”
With that, I turned to flounce away but immediately crashed into the waiter, sending his water glasses flying across the floor. Damn. I immediately dropped to the floor to get the glasses and try to scoop up ice off the floor. So much for my dramatic exit. Just then, it occurred to me he was probably getting a good look at my ass, bent over. Too good of a look. I turned it away from him and immediately bumped into the waiter again.
“I got it, don’t worry.” The waiter’s voice was less soothing than it was desperate. Desperate I quit helping him, that is.
I babbled some apologies, reached into my purse to thrust a twenty into his hand, and with an odd backward waddle toward the door, got out as fast as I could.
As soon as I was in my Uber, which thankfully arrived within three minutes, I opened my text messages. Two from Vi, and four from Boston. Of course. I had put my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ so I didn’t get any notifications on my watch. Boston must have gone crazy when he didn’t get answers from me.
Boston: He cute?
Boston: No answer. Must be REALLY cute.
Boston: Still no answer. Confirm or deny he’s not a murderer.
Boston: I’m ready to call the ambulance.
The last one came only ten minutes ago. I smiled in the dark, and instead of texting him back, I picked up the phone and called.
“I’ve been murdered,” I announced as soon as he picked up the phone.
“Oh, this is quite serious indeed,” he said solemnly. “Now I must take action.”
“I would appreciate that.” I matched his formal tone.
“It’s quite early. Too early for the hospital.” Boston’s voice was authoritative. “I must save you myself. I know where to get the perfect elixir. Meet me there?”
My phone dinged, and when I held it out to look,
I saw a pin to a fancy dessert and cocktail bar across the street from Vi’s place. I grinned in the dark. Boston knew what I liked.
“If that’s the only place I can be saved...” My voice trailed off.
“I’m afraid it is,” he assured me.
“I’ll be there in ten then,” I promised. “I mean, this is urgent, right?”
22
When I got to the dessert bar, to my surprise, both Vi and Boston were standing in the front.
“Sorry,” Boston hissed when Vi led us to a table in the back. “I was at Vi’s and told her I was leaving to meet you. She thought it was an article recap and wanted to come with. She loves the desserts here.”
“It’s fine,” I assured him. I mean, Vi was my best friend. Why wouldn’t it be okay? A night out with two friends, I should be grateful, right? Then why were my spirits a little squashed? I wondered to myself. I shook off the thought and followed behind them. Vi promptly ordered us a bottle of wine and several desserts to share and demanded I tell them both all about my date.
“So, is that what dates with men are really like?” I asked, half bitter, half curious as I scraped the bottom of the plate our lava cake had been served on. Vi had given me a thousand apologies for setting me up with Rick, who she had only known through a friend, and had no idea he was so much older than me.
“No!” Vi’s voice was so strong it made me jerk my head up. “You are a gorgeous and caring woman full of promise. You deserve way more than a creepy man trying to put the moves on you before the dessert course.”
”Yeah,” Boston nodded. “We all know those guys.”
”What guys?” I asked. Were there an army of Rick-like men in the world that I’d have to spend my life avoiding like I was playing a game of dodgeball?
They exchanged glances. “She’s been off the market for years,” Vi explained to Boston like I wasn’t even there. “Hasn’t run into too many guys like him in the wild.”
“Lucky her.”
Vi heaved a sign and started explaining. “Not all men do this, Kat, but almost all women know these men. They are older, bored, either married a long time or recently divorced, and latch onto young, pretty women and start acting creepy. At work, we call them SBCs - ‘Slow Burn Creepers.’ They seem fine at first, then start going too far, asking inappropriate questions or saying things that the woman doesn’t want to hear.”
Boston nodded in agreement again. “They’re laying the groundwork, Kitty Kat. Basically hinting, ‘If you’re down, I’m down’. They start with small comments you think you can ignore, then it escalates slowly but surely while they feel you out. Get their jollies off by talking to a gorgeous lady, but no woman needs to put up with that sexual harassment and disrespect.”
I burned with pleasure at Boston’s compliment, and I sat back to reflect on his words. Now I thought about it, I had brushed off comments here and there from Shane’s partners. I thought I was doing it in the name of bantering and networking for him, but I never really did like their jokes about their wives and other women, or jokes about our sex life.
I glanced out into the dark, velvety night. The weather was perfect, warm with a little breeze. I was with my best friend and my new buddy, and starting my new, sassier life. Everything should be perfect, right? Then why did I feel like such a loser? Like I was faking my way through life when I didn’t really know anything at all?
Boston caught my look and reached over to give the top of my hand a brief squeeze.
“It’s okay. You just got a bad one in disguise. Now you know what to look for, you’ll be able to cut off that talk sooner.”
“Thanks, Boston,” I mumbled, already missing the warmth of his fingers.
Vi yawned. “Sorry I’m so tired,” she said sheepishly, and I instinctively glanced at my watch. 11:32. “Long day at the office.”
“You don’t have to stay out,” Boston said, with what I thought was a hint of eagerness. Vi must have caught it too since she gave him a funny look.
“I don’t want to leave Kat here alone.”
“Kitty Kat’s glass is still full. I’ll walk her home after she’s done. Won’t take but five minutes.”
“You don’t mind?” They were talking like I wasn’t there again, but I didn’t mind.
“Of course not,” he assured her.
We watched her walk out and across the street to her townhouse. A quietness fell over the table, though it wasn’t necessarily awkward. More like...comfortable. Shane was always trying to fill the silence, it seemed. He was so extroverted he got bored easily and loved to debate all sorts of topics. It surprised me how different this was. I liked it. Reminded me of the ride home from the airport a few weeks ago.
We finished our drinks in silence, though it never became awkward. Sitting there with Boston in this trendy dessert bar with the exposed brick, black marble bar, and low lighting, as we watched people pass by on the sidewalk gave me a comfortable and cozy feeling I hadn’t had in a long time. I knew it was getting close to time to leave, but part of me wished I could freeze this moment and live in it forever, in a perfect little bubble where there was no wrong in the world, only right.
Even after Boston paid the bill, waving away my attempt to reach for my wallet, and held out his hand to help me out of the chair, I was still in the spell. The magical spell where the night turned just perfect.
“She’s right, you know,” Boston’s voice broke my thoughts, as we rounded up to the front door of Vi’s townhouse. He leaned against a pillar next to her tall, gold planter.
“About what?” I noticed that smell again, the one that was uniquely his. I started to wonder if it was Dolce & Gabbana cologne mixed with his pheromones. I nervously perched at the edge of Vi’s front bench and looked up at him.
“That you’re an amazing woman. Worthy of so much.”
His voice, usually bold, was soft now, and it seemed crazy intimate at this hour, in this dark spot. Suddenly, all the thoughts I had about Boston - how annoying he was, our history of verbal spats, how he had irritated me so much by talking about Shane despairingly - all those flew out of my mind as he stepped closer to me. He smiled at me, not his usual shit-eating-grin, but a tender smile as he leaned over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I caught my breath and looked down nervously at how close he was. This was entirely new territory for Boston and me, alone in a setting like this. Just him and me, no Vi, office lights, or baristas blasting out drinks behind us.
It was crazy, this intimacy. This moment. I felt crazy. My heart beat so loudly I was pretty sure Boston could hear it. But above all else, I was alive. The most alive and natural I had felt in years. More alive than I had been sitting through all those lame as hell dinners with Shane and his partners’ wives. More alive than I had sitting on Vi’s couch in desperation. And a hell of a lot more alive than I did sitting on the couch with a bag of cookies.
Boston seemed only slightly less nervous than me as he slid onto the bench next to me. Right next to me, his leg touching mine. Every sense in my body started screaming, including ones I didn’t know I had.
“You have no idea how long I’ve thought that,” Boston murmured, his face inches from mine. His dark brown hair, almost black, shined in the porch light.
“How long?” I teased lightly, not really knowing how else to respond to him this moment. “Fifteen minutes?”
He laughed, a slow laugh that warmed me. “More like fifteen years. But how could I have made a move? You were Vi’s best friend, then I didn’t see you for years. When I finally heard more about you, you were with that boyfriend of yours. You’ve been off-limits for years.”
He leaned his face closer to mine until we were only millimeters apart. There was no mistaking what was going to happen right now, not like that time at his front door. I caught my breath, and by almost magnetic force, I leaned into his chest, knotting his sweater in my hands and feeling his abs. Damn, this guy doesn’t miss a day at the gym, I thought woozily to myself as he got close
enough that I could almost taste the red wine on his lips. He brushed his lips against mine, so softly I could barely feel them, and I shivered. He hesitated for a moment, almost like he was trying to read the situation, if I was into it or not.
Drunk with lust, so close to him I could still taste him on my lips, I answered his question by putting my hand behind his head and yanking him so close to me that there was no doubt. I greedily pulled his lips onto mine, giving him - and me - all the answers to what we both wanted. From there, it’s on. I felt weightless as his lips continued to explore mine like I was having an entirely out-of-body experience. A minute may have passed, or maybe an hour. I couldn’t tell because time simultaneously slowed down and sped up all at once.
I moaned as his tongue explored my mouth and I reached up with my other hand, weaving his black hair through my fingers. His hand settled on my waist, fingers barely brushing at my waistband. I scooted closer, my lips never leaving his until I landed almost on his lap. He leaned me up against the pillar, almost laying on top of me. I felt something hard pressing against me, causing me to moan even louder. Judging by the length of what was pressed into my inner thigh, he was quite blessed in that area, and I allowed my hand to sneak down to have a quick feel over the top of his jeans to see if I was right. Boston let out a low groan in my ear as he plunged his hand up my shirt and brushed his thumb against my nipple, over my lacy bra, and I almost melted against him. My hormones started cheering me on, warning me that I was about ten seconds away from ripping off those expensive jeans of his and giving Vi’s neighbors quite the show. I frantically tried to remember what underwear I put on this morning, praying they were in decent condition and at least had some lace on them or something.