The Conference
I'm attending the investment banker bro sausage fest to watch my friend Freya speak on a panel. We are two of the only five women in the entire auditorium, and she was only added at the last minute when she met the organizer on her flight over. In fact, the stage has four chairs, and it's quite clear there is no space for the fifth which has her name tag in front of it. They've had to place it half hidden behind the podium, clearly added as the after thought.
I have crashed the conference because I hadn't seen her since she moved to Zurich, only to find as I get there that she is in the middle of changing her flight to leave early. "How could you F! You just got here and you're flying back out in 3 hours! What the fuck!" I forget to use my inside voice, and the guy standing next to her turns, startled, at the expletive.
We both muffled our giggles that. She slaps his arm, and said "Oh let me introduce you, you guys were both in the same school and may know each other. Dani, meet N"
His last name is on several buildings and hospitals, and I recognize him as a famous billionaires son. Dani is often on socials because he runs their media line - I had heard of him of course, but don't remember him from school. The lean build, crisp white shirt that screams of something expensive because it wasn't rumpled like everyone else's. And those glasses. Uff. I have always found nerd white boys hot. I avoid Freya's eye because she knows me too well, and knows exactly what she's doing. Her grin is unbearable.
"Oh I was class of 99! Nice to meet you!" I smile at him. He blinks, checking me out, and I inwardly smirk because I know I look hot. My hair was done because of the thing I went to yesterday, and I'm wearing that super expensive designer shirt that hid my newly acquired tummy pudge. Casual, summery, yellow in a sea of black conference suits. I had to state my class year, by way of introducion. It's this weird jig we all do, trying to figure out who we are in the six degrees of separation. Which side of the snob line my pedigree lies in. Somewhere in the middle, thank you very much, he and his ilk are way cooler and way richer than me.
He's looking a little flummoxed. We all pause, confused. "Who were you..." he trails off awkwardly. "I was with Aisha and Gavi" i mention the house captains everyone knew, and he recognizes one of the names.
"Oh how. She was much younger.." and then "Oh I was confusing that with my college year! I was with her elder brother!"
"Ah yes! I just met him recently, he and T had flown up together for that school alum game we hosted". Social positioning established, I move back to my friend and we go back to talking. She walked on to the plane that morning with only one earring, and once I'm done with my laughing fit, I offer mine. She cannot go on to stage with that! But she insists, probably because she finds my large freshwater pearls too lahori for her taste.
He's listening to us, amused, but also pretending to be on the phone.
***
The Dinner
I get up from the sofa, and the room tilts a bit.
"Whoa sailor, steady there" a hand mercifully grabs my arm from behind and steadies me. Fs friend Dani, aka the hottest man in the room. I feel his arms twitch in surprise as I overcorrect and lurch backward, feeling his warmth and delicious hardness behind my entire back. I feel his amused breath ruffle my hair, the rumble of a very male chuckle huffs in the shell of my ear. "You are so plastered."
The party has muted music and the hum of people talking all around us. I seem to have misjudged my alcohol tolerance amid the good food and conversation. Not that I care, I can feel my lips stretched across my teeth in what is probably a goofy grin. I see F raise a brow at me from across the room, but then she immediately gets distracted by her hosting duties. She's in town for a weekend, and decided to throw a mixer which snowballed to a 100 person catered event.
He gently disengages, keeping his hand politely on my elbow. I turn around to face him, bumping my knee into the coffee table.
"Ow" I pout, but I can't seem to fully open my eyes and see if there is any damage. I know there is just no way I can coordinate my limbs well enough to check my knee, given how the room still seems to be gently swaying. I grab his bicep to steady myself. "Dudeeeeeeee, your muscles feel sooooooo strong."
Freya comes up behind me, a cool steadying presence. "Ookkaaaayy N I'm cutting you off babe. We need to take you home." She throws an arm over my shoulders and props me up comfortingly, handing me a bottle of water which I guzzle down greedily.
She addresses Dani "hey D, you're going to have to drop her, I'll send her car over tomorrow morning." She rummages through my purse single handedly, pulls out my keys, then removes her arm my shoulder to detach the car fob. I try to say something, but he has to quickly bring up a steadying hand before I start listing. She hands him my house key. "I'm texting you the location ok?" She says to D, who nods.
And just like that, I'm frog marched into a waiting car. F belts me in, gives me a hug muttering about lightweights as she steps back and closes the door. I roll my window down "I luuurrrvvveee you Free. You're my bestest friend"
"Love you too you absolutely mental idiot" she says affectionately, as he pulls the car out of the driveway.
I close my eyes, fèeling the cool air from the car AC gently waft the hair around my temples. "I looveeee this leather smell" I sigh as I settle in and close my eyes and take a deep inhale.
"You're a hilariously cute drunk" he smiles, eyes on the road.
"I obviously don't do it enough, I really should do this more often!" I muse. I look at my hands, suddenly hypnotized by the jewelry as it sparkles under the streetlights passing overhead.
We seem to reach my apartment in seconds. He's been kind enough to come up to my door, which was a good thing because I cannot seem to connect my key to my lock.
The third time I miss, a warm hand gently guides me to the right location, and the lock turns.
"Hooray!" I say in delight, beaming at him over my shoulder, but the move makes me sway and almost fall over.
His other hand comes to my waist to prop me up as he pushes the door open, gets us in and locks it behind him. He takes the keys from my hand, and stores them on the foyer table.
"Will you be ok?" he asks uncertainly.
I've already discarded my shoes, and I drop my bag to the floor. "Of course!" I turn back to him, and misjudging the distance trip over the bag strap, and almost land straight into him but with a curse righten myself with a hand on the foyer table just in time. "See! Perfectly fine!" I say proudly.
He's trying to hide a smile as he rubs the back of his neck, "Ok, I'll head out now. Don't forget to lock the door behind me."
"Thank youuuuu" I drag out the you for some reason. He stands there for a second, hesitating, but I reach out behind him to open the door.
Except the door doesn't seem to work.
I frown as I turn the knob and pull, but it doesn't seem to move. I elbow him aside and put my other hand on the knob. I turn it with both hands, and pull with all my strength.
Nothing.
"The door isn't working" I turn around, a little confused.
He loses it, and bursts out laughing. "Alright Einstein, let me help you get to bed". He gently takes my arm, ignoring my spluttering, and herds me towards the hall.
He opens a door, and we come to a standstill.
"Why are you taking me into the hall closet" I ask in a whisper.
I feel his shoulders shaking in mirth. He answers seriously though "I don't know where your room is, I haven't ever been to your place."
"Ooohhhh" and I keep standing there. The hall closet looks mesmerising, it's dark and cosy. I want to lie down in it, but he grabs my shoulder and herds me towards the living room sofa.
"Let's just get you here, it looks comfortable enough" he says.
He pulls out his phone and makes a call, as I recline with relief on the soft cushions.
"Dude how much did she drink, she's ok but can't manage to get to her room. She couldn't even unlock the door!" He says to the person at the other end.
My eyes are closed, and I sigh with happiness as I feel the soft cloud like material under my cheek. I can hear Freya protesting, something about no food, alcohol. I hear the words work. Stress.
Oh they're talking about me.
The room is moving too much, the cushions I'm clutching for stability feel good, so I just keep lying there. "Sorry I'm hogging the sofa."
He leans down and sits on the wooden coffee table facing me. "Don't worry about it" he kindly pats my arm. "F should be on her way to help you."
I open one eye. "I can't tell if I'm breathing" I whisper, but he has to lean close to hear it.
"Yes, you're breathing", he has that smile again. Inches from my nose, it is unbearably beautiful.
I reach out with my fingers and touch them to his lips, and he instantly sobers, his breath freezing. I can feel his soft lips and his scratchy chin, in mesmerizing contrast.
"I like your smile" I say. "I can tell you're a kind person".
I feel his mouth straighten into a hard line under my fingertips. "No, I don't think I am" his expression is far away, remembering something.
"Oh. You look sad" the loss of his smile makes me frown too. I move my fingers from his mouth, to cup his cheek. My fingers brush against the lobe of his ear. It feels like soft velvet. Who knew earlobes felt so good.
He stifles a sound and holds my wrist to stop me.
"Don't be sad" I say, and my hand goes behind his head and I pull him down to kiss him.
He pulls back. "I'm pretty sure you don't know what you're doing right now" he says in a low voice, as he tries to detach my hand from the back of his head.
"I'm trying to kiss you because you're hot," I explain earnestly.
His smile blooms again, and he huffs out a small laugh. He's managed to unhook my hands, allowing him to straighten up and stand. "As great as this is for my ego, I pretty sure sober you won't want do this. F is on her way, she said she'll come spend the night here to keep an eye on you."
I stand up too. I try to hold his face in my hands, but he holds my wrists in warning. Gently, but firmly.
I grin, and use a juisitsu move to free my hands.
"What the" he's startled, and I use the element of surprise to hold him and put my lips on his. He goes completely still. He makes a small sound of protest in his throat. His hands come to my waist, trying to restrain me I suppose.
When I can't seem to get him to respond, I protest. "I've really really wanted to do this since I saw you" I say. My hands flatten on his chest. "You feel so... right. How can this be bad" I lean into him again, and nibble his lower lip.
He shudders, and his eyes have drifted closed. And then he takes over.
This. This was a kiss. So different from whatever I was doing. I can feel him everywhere, my lips, my tongue. Desperate, demanding. I feel this hunger, deep down in my somersaulting stomach. My breath merges into his. Whatever this was between us, it sparks us and ignites me in flame. He tastes of warmth and sweetness. He moans as he sucks on my tongue, and my entire body turns molten.
Then it all stops.
I open my eyes. His eyes are clear, bright with a feverish light. "I'm sorry" he says, and stumbles back but in the narrow space he bumps the coffee table.
I brush a thumb against his cheek, and he flinches. He takes a few steps more steps backward, putting the table between us.
"You kissed me!" He says accusingly.
I look away, suddenly horribly embarrassed. "You kissed me back!"
He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, making them stick up all over the place. "Let's just chalk it up to whatever you're going through right now, you're vulnerable, a little tipsy, let's please just forget this happened". He's holding his palms out, like he's negotiating with a crazy person.
I feel my insides twist painfully. "You want to pretend this never happened?" I ask in a small voice, unbearably hurt. My insides feel hollow, burning with alcohol fueled insanity. The spark of rejection quickly turns to rage. How dare he come into my house, give me the best kiss of my life, and then pretend he doesn't want to do it again.
He looks at my expression with a flicker of concern and alarm.
"Fine. Then I'll forget this too" I yank him to me, and angling my face to his lips roughly kiss him one last time. "It's forgotten," our breaths mingle, my forehead on his, and I let him go and stalk over to the door.
I unlock and open it, and wait for him to exit.
***
The Hangover
I wake up, and feel like I've been hit by a truck. I try to stretch, but my hands and feet bump into the sofa arm. "Uuurrrgggghhhhhhh" is all I can manage, the barrage of nausea and shame rising up like bile. I try to unwrap my arms from the sofa throw, frowning at the offensively sunny light piercing my eyes. I try to swing my legs over, but amid the cushions, the afghan throw, and my hangover I thump uncomfortably into the floorspace between the sofa and coffee table instead.
"Jesus fucking christ" I mumble into the carpet. At least I'm out of the sun.
I give up trying to get up, grabbing a cushion to cover my eyes. Snippets of last night's party bubble up. Never again am I mixing cocktails with wine. My stomach roils at the thought. I curl my knees to my chest, and try to ignore all the dust the maid has left under the sofa. Did I drive home? Shit I hope not. Wait, F wouldn't let me. Did she drive me. And then suddenly I remember. Dani. In my house. Helped me get to the sofa. Me trying to kiss him. Him stopping me.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT" I snap up, smacking the table with my elbow and jiggling all the paraphernalia on it. Kill me now.
I put my forehead on the sofa, thumping it, as I cringe. "You fucking MORON how could you" I moan, humiliation making blood flood my ears.
My bedroom door opens, startling me.
"Good morninggggggg" Freya emerges with a big fat cheery grin.
"I want to die. Just kill me" I mumble.
Freya cracks up laughing as she walks over to the coffee machine. "The hangover or the kiss?" she asks. She shrieks with laughter at my expression. "Both I take it. D told me you tried to take his virtue last night." In an obscenely good mood, she laughs and cheerfully walks over to me and hands me a steaming hot mug and a toast.
I wrinkle my nose. "No. No. No words. I'm going to shower and brush my teeth first, and then you can make as much fun of me as you want." I need to scrub the memory of that kiss out of my brain.
She gives me a hand, and then envelopes me in a hug. "You know I love you, right" she says.
"Of course bitch". I try to bat her out of my way, and she eventually lets go.
"You scared me last night."
I pause. I look up but can't seem to meet her steady gaze. Then I sigh, she knows me too well. "I know. I'm getting my shit under control." I say, and move towards my bedroom.
"I think you need to break shit more, not always be in control N. You're breaking apart at the seams.'
"Because I kissed a guy?" I try to sound flippant, but my voice chokes a bit. His lips on me. Right here.
"Because you've been working 16 hour days for the last three years. It's not sustainable"
"I've sustained it" I know I sound irritated, but even as I say it i know that it's a lie. I'm barely hanging on by a fingernail.
"At the price of your sanity" her concern shines through, and whatever angst I was feeling crumbles to dust.
"It's worth it. You know why I have to do this." I gesture to my apartment, my sanctuary.
"Not this way." She always was a goddamned stubborn ass bitch.
We face each other, battling wills. I give up first. I always do.
"Ok. Concern noted. Now I really want to shower." I turn and flee to the bathroom before she can say anything further. I hear her phone start buzzing, and give a sigh of relief that the call will distract her, she was very capable of following me into the bathroom.
*
The Morning After
I emerge, scrubbed clean, wearing fresh clothes feeling human again.
"Look at the timing" she exclaims as I emerge from my room as the doorbell rings. She ignores my confusion, and opens the door.
Fuck me sideways. It's D. He's holding three coffees and carrying a bag of look to be Okra Test Kitchen's croissants, and also juggling his car keys. What must he think of me, I acted like some drunken whore.
He walks in, sees my expression and freezes.
We both turn and look accusingly at F.
"You didn't tell her!" he says, as I eye her and say "Explain"
She grins unabashed. "You two need to talk. I need to go to work. Thank you for the caffeine". She grabs one of the mugs, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, blows me a kiss, and is gone.
The door closes with a very final click.
He looks good in his white polo and tan pants. Everything about him looks expensive. His hair is slightly damp at the ends like he just showered. Like me. He shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other at the entrance.
Oh. "Come in, please, have a seat." I promise not to try to jump your bones again.
I gesture to the sofa, which F has thankfully righted and all traces of my uncomfortable night on it have been erased.
He hesitates, a ghost of a smile flickers on his face as he sits down. Shit what memory from last night is making him look so amused. He clears his throat. "Did you make it to your room eventually then?" Is he smirking?
"Nope, F stole my bed, I just ended up passing out on the sofa." I say, and take a seat on the other end, keeping a safe couple of feet between us.
"You did say it was the best sofa in the world" The awkwardness eases a little as we share a grin at that. Then I immediately sober, with a sick feeling of embarrassment and humiliation remembering his rejection.
"Look I called F over last night, you were pretty wasted."
"We don't need to do this." I hold up a hand. I have a report long overdue, an MOU that needs review, and several emails to respond to. I don't need to hash out awkward failed attempts at initiating a romantic moment.,
"Look I'm sorry. You - I - I was caught off guard. I'm in a terrible place relationship wise at the moment. I just had to come explain in person." He's leaning forward earnestly.
My mouth tastes of ashes. "You owe me nothing D. I barely know you" He winces as if I've knifed him, but I continue. "My inhibitions were down, I was under the impression that you've been single for years, we're both adults, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in that position." Of mauling you without your consent. Shit if gender roles were reversed this would literally have been assault. I feel ill, and it's not from the hangover.
His brown eyes are troubled. He looks at me, and for a second, he looks at me with such... hunger. But he looks away quickly, clears his throat and when he meets my eyes again the look has been wiped away. Maybe I just imagined it. "You - look - you have nothing - nothing - to apologize for." He stumbles over the words but says them with such ferocity, that I can almost believe him. Almost.
I stand up in dismissal. I can't take this anymore. I start to walk towards the door to let him out. "Look, I accept your apol--" I start to say. He grabs my hand, and time stands still.
He stands up, so we're facing each other, at the exact same spot as last night. He looks like he has a lot more to say. Regret. Desire. Yes whatever I'm feeling isn't just with me. Helplessness. Something still going on with his ex wife? Custody issues probably. A definite lack of sleep, he seems to have rushed over before work, which means he's going on three or four hours of sleep.
"You have to believe me. You are the most fascinating woman I think I've ever met." He holds my face in his hands. He blinks, slowly, and when his eyes open again unfettered lust shines through. His lip curls a bit as he clenches his jaw. his hands work their way to my mouth, and his thumb rubs my bottom lip. "The things I would like to do to you." his breath is ragged.
It's like his voice is injecting pure carnal lust into my veins. I think I gasp. But I'm riveted in place, between his hands. They move slowly, agonizingly, from my lips to my jaw and then to the side of my head, and finally into my hair. We're both breathing raggedly now.
He closes his eyes, and takes a deep, deep breath. His hands stop their ministrations, and fall back down to his side. I'm still weak kneed, a cloudy puddle of lust fogging my brain and cant toward him before stopping myself. I have never ever felt this strongly about anyone else in my life.
But it all remains unsaid in that moment, in that gap of silence between us.
"I cannot drag you down with me. Please believe me. In another life, in any other timeline." He stumbles over the words, but the intensity with which he says them is clear. Those words sound familiar. Where have I heard them?
"Dickenson?" My brow furrows, uncertain.
"Katy Perry" he says, sheepishly.
The moment passes, and we share a grin. He's looking at me too sincerely. His warm, kind eyes are just too much for me. I take a step back abruptly. "Thank you for coming by. I'm going to get back to it now." I gesture vaguely towards my home office. My throat feels absurdly choked. Get it together, you barely know the man. It's just the hangover talking. Eat the carbs.
We walk over to the door - third time I'm letting him out in the last 12 hours - and he hesitates briefly, but I can't bring myself to say anything or even give him a chaste cheek kiss a goodbye. I don't even dare come within a foot of him, not when I can still feel the imprint of his thumb in my mouth.
He walks out and I shut the door and lock it, leaning against it to catch my breath.
***
Getting Ready
I'm mulling over lipstick choices in my bathroom, and decide on the cherry bomb red named shade 999. F comes up behind me and makes an approving noise. "Naaaiicceee bitch. That red really is something"
I smile at her in the mirror. She's casually perched on my bathtub, using my ironing tongs, watching me get dressed. She's visiting, and staying with me of course. It's been nearly three months since I've seen her.
"Is it sad that I think I'm going to have more fun here in this bathroom talking to you than I will on this date?" I wrinkle my nose a little.
"Oh for fuck's sake we've been doing this for 30 years. Your hot date will be MUCH more exciting"
"Exciting? More like an anthropological excursion into the online dating scene. Exciting is... a highly doubtful outcome." I'm skeptical because - on Fs insistence- I had decided to swipe right on someone who was probably half my age.
"No Debbie Downer! Repeat after me - I am a hot. I want this. I deserve this."
I smack her arm before she can continue. "Ok ok that's definitely inspiring me to exit and hasten to the restaurant just to escape you."
"Good girl" she grins, and watches fondly as I exit my apartment. She's visiting the city and staying over, and will be taking some calls and working while she waits for me to come back and give her the full update.
*
I walk into the trendy new restaurant, feeling horribly out of place. The average age of the crowd feels like it's 15. I walk up to the hostess, and she immediately takes me to the table. I am hot. I want this. I deserve this. I approach the table, and there he sits, Bumble right swipe number 1. What am I doing this is a huge mistake. Turn and run. But then it's too late because he's noticed me, and looks up and we make eye contact. A flicker of relief and appreciation chases across his face, and he relaxes into a smile. He stands up - whelp he's tall - and bends down and kisses both my cheeks in a European style greeting. "Hi! N?"
For one brief hysterical moment I consider denying that's my name just to see his reaction, Behave. Why can't you be normal for just one evening. I desperately miss F and her stupid banter that effortlessly fills up the empty spaces in a conversation. "Yes! I'm N. Nice to meet you Sal". Glad you're a real person who looks like you didn't AI generate your dating pictures and seem to not be a serial killer.
I sit down, bracing myself for agonizing small talk. The waiter magically appears with a small stool for my bag, and another one stands attentively with his iPad poised to take our order.
"Should we order and get that out of the way?" He asks, and I nod. We decide on the preset menu.
"So. Tell me more about you. I never asked where you've studied" he asks.
"Oh I'm a total nerd, did my computer science and math from the school of science and engineering" I laugh.
"Haha hottest nerd I've ever seen! I was in their econ school in 2010. What a coincidence"
Fuck me, he's nearly a decade younger. I need to get out of here. RUN.
I take a deep steadying breath. Sneak a look over to see if he's noticed, but he's happily still talking, oblivious to my social anxiety. Thank God.
He chats away, and my mind wanders again. I notice a commotion at the entrance, and a tall skinny woman with the most stunning waif like neck and obscenely scanty clothes floats to our table. "Sal darling, its been too long" her throaty voice sounds sexy as hell, like the rest of her. She must be six feet tall, because she's almost eye level with him. They air kiss hello, and a cloud of her perfume envelopes me. She even smells expensive.
He graciously introduces me. I don't get up, mostly because I'm paralyzed with awe that I'm in the presence of a real live goddess.
She looks down from her superior height, dismisses me as someone insignificant, and then floats over to her table. Every eye in the room seems to follow her, and we only get released from the hypnosis when she sits.
Sal completely oblivious picks up the story he's regaling me with and continues. I manage to laugh at the right places.
He watches with a look of satisfaction as I eat. Like I'm Gretel and he's the forest witch fattening me up to eat me. "Damn it's s good to see a girl eat." He exclaims, and gives me a nibble of some carpaccio from his chopsticks.
Like I'm Ms. Fucking. Piggy.
I smile politely, grit my teeth, and hope this torture ends soon. Be nice, he's a sweet young man. I nod and smile, and eat my entree. Nice young man. What the hell is wrong with me. He's hot. I should be thrilled. I stifle a yawn.
To his credit, he immediately notices and snaps up straighter. His brow furrows - clearly he's only used to women hanging on to his every word. "I hope I'm not boring you" he exclaims.
I hastily deny it "I woke up at 5am, just a little tired at this hour". He looks reassured, and launches into his 6am gym and swim routine, the one he's had since his modeling days. As if I didn't feel out of depth with this Adonis enough.
Mercifully, the meal ends. It doesn't even occur to him to order dessert or coffee, his flat probably six packed stomach and fresh glowing skin clearly speak of inhuman discipline like no sugar and ten hours of sleep. I nearly trip over myself trying to stand up once we've paid.
Ever the gentleman, Sal pulls my chair out and offers his arm as we walk out.
"I had a great time tonight. You're a great listener!" He says, sweet, charming. So easy.
"Me too!" I lie and we stand companionably next to each other waiting for our cars.
An entourage of black SUVs and a pickup truck of guards approaches the curb. Two security personnel rush out and open a car door to let out the passengers, and a harried assistant with an iPad and ear piece escorts a group of men into the restaurant.
"Happening place isn't it" Sal says in my ear, as the crowd jostles past us. He doesn't seem to mind bending down to my height to do it. I smile back, his eyes are a stunning shade of green with flecks of brown. Hazel. I'm wondering what is wrong with me and why I'm not clamoring to jump in his pants. It's pretty warm and humid, I can only feel uncomfortable sweat start to bead on my back, and I shift from one leg to another hoping valet hurries up. Sal looks serene and unruffled by the heat of course, like body temperature is just a construct for other humans.
"N!?" an incredulous voice yanks me out of my thoughts. And lo and behold, Dani - heart stopping in full banker business formal - walking towards us. He waves a dismissive hand to the guards and assistant, and gestures to the group to go on. He has a businesslike smile, this one doesn't quite reach his eyes, but he still looks so unbearably handsome that I have to take a sharp inhale to brace myself. That smile falters a bit when his eyes zero in on my hand on Sal's arm, but the expression is quickly shuttered before I can decipher it, and he gives me a quick hug. That cologne. I'm transported back to that night on my sofa, hanging on to the cushion to stop the room rioting, my fingers on his beautiful lips. Oblivious to the emotional devastation he's left in the wake of a simple hug, he turns easily to greet Sal like a long lost buddy. Of course they know each other.
"You should have told me you guys were coming here, I would have told them to roll out the red carpet. Were you celebrating a special occasion?" He asks us. Is he fishing for more information on our relationship? Sal, ever so charming, pleasantly explains that it's just a first date, one of many he hopes, and we all laugh awkwardly. "I'm a shareholder here, so if you ever need anything just say the word!"
The valet brings up a car, and Sal looks over "That's me!" But he hesitates, uncertain not wanting to leave me standing alone, but also concerned that he's blocking traffic.
"Oh no please, leave, I'm totally fine here. Thank you for a lovely evening." I can feel Dani's eyes on the back of my head as Sal reaches down to give a hurried cheek kiss.
Sal then turns and does the man hand clasp thing with Dani, and then starts moving towards the car as someone beeps at him to hurry up, and then with a quick wave drives away.
Dani takes off his suit jacket and then yanks off his tie with his left hand and stuffs it into his pants pocket. Sweat dampens his shirt, but he looks unbothered. He leans towards me conspiratorially as he unbuttons his shirt cuffs and rolls up his sleeves. I'm hypnotized by his hands. I can see the five o clock shadow and the open collar of his shirt. Help me lord. "Let me guess, F is waiting for you to give her the down low on date night?" he says with a boyish grin.
"Guzzling down diet cokes and tracking my location as we speak" and we both crack up.
"I'm glad you're better now" he says, but at my quizzical look, explains further "You seem happier". I look at him, noting the dark circles smudging his under eyes, and the five o clock shadow and know that whatever he was going through wasn't resolved as yet. He hesitates for a brief moment, but then with a mischievous grin adds on, "It seems dating young people suits you."
I gasp at the implication, and then burst into laughter, but immediately feel guilty. Poor Sal. "It's a work in progress, but I'm getting there I guess" I say with a shrug, but my smile feels a little bitter. He looks unabashed.
The valet with my car has arrived. The same one he probably had to drive over that night.
He recognizes it, and turns to me with a small ghost of a smile on his lips, at perhaps a memory. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and it feels unbearably intimate so I take a step back. He immediately drops his hand and stands up straighter like he didn't realize what he was doing. "Hope really is a thing with feathers isn't it," he smiles, knowing I'll get it.
Dickenson. "We are on the strangest seas aren't we." I say, but that makes the moment too profound so I have to do something to make it lighter. "Hah, I knew you did A level literature." I grin triumphantly, and love that I've made him give that low laugh. He seems lighter, more relaxed, hands in his pockets, sleeves rolled up, unbothered by the heat, smiling that smile that reaches his eyes again. I start moving toward the valet and the line of impatient cars. I don't dare come anywhere near his cheeks to kiss a goodbye as is customary, I don't trust myself.
He watches me leave, and as I look in the rear view mirror I can see him still standing there as I drive away.
***
Brunch
***
Friends
He just got back from Davos and has stopped over in this city, because I was visiting for a wedding. Me. He stopped in this city, just because he wanted to visit me! I try unsuccessfully to stop the goofy grin from breaking out.
***
The Hotel
I'm in his hotel room. Holy shit. I have ducked out from the dinner in the other building. The one I was supposed to attend. The one in this hotel, which is why he chose to stay here as well. I walk over, jittery with excitement. I couldn't believe it. Me. It was going to happen! .
He latches the door behind me, his arm trapping my body close. Uff. I know I'll remember that cologne forever.
He looks down at me, and I can tell he likes what he sees. He uses the lack of space to position himself between my legs, his strong arms hook my butt up, so I'm his height now. My legs wrap around him, and we both give a muffled erghm because we're old and not as flexible anymore but then settle into it. "I think I may have the wrong room. I'm looking for my friend Zain" I quip. We both crack up. He's grinning. I'm grinning.
"Hello." He puts his forehead on mine.
"Hello to you too."
I have a fleeting moment to wonder if that lush head of hair is real or transplanted before I dig my hands into it, and pull him down to my mouth.
***
The Mehndi
I come back from the dholki function super high on the music and the mehndi and chooris and dance practices, and just having a rocking good time. A destination wedding was a fabulous idea, because it has pulled us out of our normal day to day we've all let loose in a way we never could in the middle of all our work routines. And it's fabulous to just be able to go upstairs to your hotel room and not worry about cleaning or laundry. Bliss.
I have green-brown mehndi on the palms of both my hands, drawn in intricate designs squeezed out a cone almost like thin piping on a cake, in the ancient tradition of celebrating happy occasions. All the women get together, have experts apply it on in a big function full of song and dance, and by tomorrow all our hands will have these orange designs dyed on for a week or so. But it renders me unable to touch anything till it dries, a process that takes 2-3 hours, and some people leave it on all night, and even apply lemon juice and what not to the maximum color, but I'm not that invested or patient. I'm still somewhat bopping to the Punjabi beats we were practicing to at the event, wondering how to operate the remote and get Netflix up when there is a knock on the door. Of course, I had asked D to swing by. I skip to the door, but am flummoxed, because I can't open the handle. I awkwardly jimmy it using the back of my wrists, then realize i have to use my elbow for the lock, but eventually manage, triumphant, if a little mussed in the hair and breathless from the shimmying.
He's holding a wine bottle. Bless that man. He does a double take when he sees me. He stands back and a slow grin appears. "Red huh" he tips his chin at my red lipstick and matching choli lehnga.
"Hell ya baby" I grin back, raising my arms and doing a pseudo sexy swirl, and then thrust out my hotel bedroom slippers and we both burst out laughing.
He comes in, but I notice he's side eyeing my exposed midriff, and can't help but smile inwardly at how transparent he is. Boys are so simple minded honestly.
"Sooo Netflix and room service?" He asks as he puts the wine on the desk, grabs the remote, and flops on to the bed.
"Yesss I was just trying to figure out how to operate the damn remote with this" I gesture with my palms as I sit next to him at the foot of the bed.
"You know, I really hate the smell of mehndi, it's like super gross" he wrinkles his nose as he turns the TV on and fiddles with the menu to get to the app.
Like any normal person who grew up with a ton of siblings, I do what the situation calls for. "Oh you mean this smell" and waggle my palms in front of his nose, and crack up when he lets out a girly shriek trying to jump back so he doesn't get any on his nose.
"Oh hell no" he grabs my wrists, and yanks up my arms so my offending hands are out of range. Except I'm attached to the arms, so I'm launched on to his stomach, and it's my turn to shriek.
And just like that, the energy shifts. He's trapped under me, still holding my wrists above his head, and we're eye to eye. Fascinated, I notice his chocolate brown eyes darken in color a little bit as his breath hitches a bit.
"Hello" I say, and his eyes go down to my mouth, apparently hypnotized.
"Red suits you" he says, his voice a little husky, and he rolls me over suddenly, and I'm the one pinned under him now, his mouth hovering inches from mine.
"Smooth move, well done" I crack, but he just gives a small distracted smile, his mouth sliding towards my jaw. "Errhmmmpphh" is all I can manage as he trails a series of small kisses from my jaw, and then reaches my ear and takes a tiny nibble.
He looks up at my face, and looks super satisfied with what he sees. A cross eyed panting mess probably, get it together woman. He slides his hands down my arms, and takes his weight on his elbows, cups my face, and then closes the gap and kisses me. I'm awash with sensation, being pressed into the soft bed, the feeling of his rough jeans on my silk clad legs, his mouth robbing me of all thought. I moan as he comes up for air, and he makes a rough sound in his throat.
Then his eyes go wide. "SHIT" he jumps back, alarmed, looking at his hands and then at my face. "Shit shit shit shit I'm so sorry" and then his expression goes from alarm to hilarity. "Oh shit you're going to kill me" he's looking at me with his eyes full of mirth and sheepishness.
I'm still lying down a little dazed "Wha.. what?" I muster, completely confused, unable to fully form words.
He holds up his left hand, and the pinkie has a huge smear of mehndi. My eyes grow big, and - like a horror movie unveil - I check my palms, and sure enough, an entire band of the intricate mehndi design near my wrist is a smooshed mess of green brown, with the orange dyed skin showing underneath. My brow furrows, he's backing away, levering off the bed. "Now- don't kill me I will fix this - you have some on your face."
"Whhaaatttt" I shriek, and my hands jerk automatically towards my cheeks, but he manages to stop them before I touch my face trying to look for the offending bit.
"Wait wait, its salvageable give me one second let's go to the bathroom and fix this" he's speaking quickly, but his shoulders are shaking with laughter.
"You asshole!" I wail, and try to swat at him, but again his grip on my wrists comes in handy from doing too much damage, and that just makes him almost double over with laughter.
He manages to get a hold of himself, and then helps me up. "I got you, don't worry" and he maneuvers me towards the bathroom sink. He grabs one of those small hotel towelettes, and puts a bit of soap and water, and then placing me between his legs he focuses on the job at hand, and gently rubs my jaw.
"Dude, swipe harder I can't have an orange jaw during the wedding tomorrow!"
He looks down from his superior height, "Ok ok relax," and dutifully rubs harder. He emerges triumphant and shows me the towelette - "See! all done, no damage."
I turn and check the mirror.
"Ok minimal damage, you can barely see it," he quickly corrects, as my eyes narrow.
"Give me a phone light! I can't see anything in damn hotel lighting!"
He fiddles with the vanity mirror and it has a built in light that helps.
I relax, the damage is indeed minimal.
"Ok whew!" I reluctantly give a relieved smile. "That was a close call" I turn around, and he's still standing too close, towel dripping. "Ok please get that away from my outfit, that's like a drip bomb waiting to go off."
He quickly pulls the towel over the sink, "Ok Ms. Bossy!" he grins good naturedly, rinsing the offending mehndi paste off his own hand. It's already gone bright orange, but his eyes are on me in the mirror and he doesn't seem to notice.
"I prefer the term Ms. Girl Boss Energy thank you," I grin back, and his eyes go my lips.
"Do you need me to get that for you?" he asks, his eyes riveted on my lips. He gestures to the red lipstick smeared over my lips.
"Get yours as well first" I laugh, because it's true, my lipstick is all over him as well.
He smiles as he rubs a wet hand over his mouth, but then his brow furrows when it does nothing to the waterproof makeup. He then grabs a bunch of tissues, then adds a bit of liquid soap and rubs his mouth, and then satisfied turns to do the same for me.
"I would really prefer makeup remover."
He sighs, about to protest, but then seeing my resolve looks around helplessly. "Make up remover?" He chews out the words strangely, like he hasn't heard them before. He looks at me for help, I just raise a brow. He goes back to looking at the array of bottles on the counter, till he notices a labelled bottle "This one?"
"Good boy."
He raises an eyebrow at that, and haughtily says "I lead a 750 person global organization, I can find makeup remover thank you very much."
"Looked hit and miss there for a second," I drawl, and his eyes crinkle with amusement at my sass.
Somewhere in the middle of gently scrubbing the lipstick off, his expression sobers. I'm suddenly acutely conscious of standing close to him, his hands on me. I take a sharp breath in as his thumb caresses my lip, his eyes bright with need, riveted to my lips.
"I.. I think we need to make sure you don't get that silk wet," his says in a low gruff voice. He gestures to my blouse, which has a drop of water on it. He's biting his lower lip, and I think I'm going to incinerate.
"Unhuhhh" is all I can manage as I take a ragged breath in, swallowing back my moan, losing my ability to breathe and form words at the same time as his hands make their way to the back of my head.
He smiles his little crooked smile, and lowers his lips to mine, his hands going to my lehnga first, unhooking it at my waist till it falls and pools around our feet in a soft flumph of fabric.
"Err I think that was the wrong piece of clothing" I look down, and I'm barefoot in my underwear, my hotel slippers long forgotten somewhere. Gross.
"Oh sorry" he smiles, unabashed. "Let me get that for you properly now" he lifts me up to the sink counter, and my legs automatically go around him as he unhooks the buttons at the back of my choli. I feel the cold air against my back as the shirt gapes open.
"Damn this shirt is tiny," he says against my neck, taking a deep inhale. "I don't think I know how to pull this off you without messing up the damn mehndi," he says in my ear, and I have to remember to keep breathing. "But I think I have a solution"
"You are the head of a 750 person global organization" I say wisely, my eyes closed, feeling his silken hair brush against my cheek. He stills for a second as he's pressing hot kisses on my neck, and then I feel his lips stretch in a smile against my jaw.
"You're killing me N" he says in a low rough voice, reaching behind me, allowing me to get a deep heady inhale of him. His calloused hands slide from my waist to under the back of my opened blouse, the warmth in contrast to the cold AC air. His breath is ragged, his hands discover my bra is strapless, and with a sound of satisfaction in his throat he unhooks it and discards it onto the bathroom floor along with my lehnga. He's fully clothed, I'm only in two tiny scraps of clothing. the rough denim between my thighs in mesmerizing contrast with the cold marble and his warm hands that are coming up my back. He reaches forward to cup my breasts and he lets out this gutteral groan, I have to stifle my own as I'm suddenly exposed and unbearably sensitive in his presence. He slowly grinds his jeans, right there, at the apex of my thighs, his eyes half shuttered, and I feel like I've ignited in flame. My voice is gone, I'm drowning in feeling, aching.
"I think I'll just wash the mehndi off," I gasp with difficulty, I can't bear to keep my hands off him anymore.
He grabs my waist to stop me, gives this wicked smile at my quizzical look. His voice is low as he nips my ear, his hands on me, touching me everywhere. "I think I like you like this Ms. Girl Boss Energy. At my mercy." His warm tongue laves my neck all the way up to my ear, and I feel a full body shudder of anticipation as I dissolve into a puddle of need.
"Ok but get me out of this bathroom. And no way I'm stepping barefoot on some gross hotel carpet"
"Yes ma'am."
***
I've moved back to Karachi, home sweet home. Its a 12 month gig, one academic year, and was messy as hell managing Rs school year and payments, but we made it work because the money is helping me save for his college, because goddamn that kid isn't going to be getting any scholarships.
I enter the elevator to get to the gym on the 20th floor, typically I would avoid these expensive coed ones but this is Karachi and its broken shitty roads that take unnecessarily long to go anywhere, and this is literally 90 seconds from my house, and I'm not going to go out of my way to do something I loathe. So I suck it up, shifting uncomfortably pulling my tshirt down to cover my butt as I pass the security guard.
I emerge and nothing, I mean nothing, beats the view. miles of concrete jungle, stretching into the horizon, soaring with the eagles. I'm momentarily distracted by a 20 yr old doing squats in her sports bra and what can only be described as underwear. The boy cut kind I liked to buy in middle school. I glare at the desk attendant who is staring at her through the glass doors, standing slack jawed ogling her bottom, but he has the courtesy to notice my pointed look and avoid my eye and appears fixated by his feet as he beeps me in.
The trainer is waiting. I would have preferred a woman, but he was the only trained physiotherapist. Thirty year old gym bro trainers are someone I would typically avoid like the plague. Even with this one, I had to explain all the medical stuff three times, and he didn't quite take me seriously till I literally brought my x-rays and had my doc speak to him. Now he is super careful, and actually listens when I tell him not to push it. In fact he's more cautious then I am sometimes, and I caught him sweating in apprehension the last time I tried one of the more advanced stretches.
I discuss the plan for the session (he's recommending extending the core exercises), and then warm up with a run. Never ever thought I could pull that off with my joints, but the miracle of modern medicine, apparently running is now good for middle aged women.
So I'm red, sweating ungracefully, in my voluminous t-shirt, panting like I'm having an angina episode, when of course he walks in. Fucking billionaire media mogul fucker. The one who didn't have the courtesy to just cheat on me but had to honestly and earnestly confess that his wife wanted to reconcile, and actually asked me what he should do. Of course he needed to go back to his wife and kids. His father in law owned the media house he was employed at. No way in hell i could compete with blocking the reconciliation of two of the richest families in the country. And all for nothing, because they ended things a year later anyway. Fuckers. I squash down the memories. He's taking off his glasses and putting them on the side of the bed so he could kiss me. Breathe. Focus. Doing that thing with his mouth. Stop it. Looking at me like I'm the hottest thing he's ever seen. It meant nothing to him you fool. He went on this weird post divorce cliche, dating a string of models like a fucking walking midlife crisis. I wish I'd worn a nicer t-shirt. This one keeps fucking falling off my shoulder showing the ratty sports bra straps. I've even used it to blow my nose 5 minutes ago.
I see in the mirror that he clocks me almost instantly and freezes, pole axed. Someone bumps into him from behind and jostles him out of his double take. He didn't know I've moved here. He looks like he's about to come over. I try to make the unfriendliest expression I can muster, but underwear girls squeals a hello grabs his arm and pulls him in the other direction. Good. Fuck him.
I'm doing floor work on a yoga mat, surreptitiously ducking behind the low wall where the weights are stacked, trying to muffle the ungodly grunts that the weighted leg lifts squeeze out of me. I have so far managed to stay out of his eyeline, hopefully for the full session. I swat the trainers hands away as they hover solicitously near my back, one of the unfortunate side effects of him knowing the number of rods in there. "You can do it ma'am, just 40 more", he says cheerily, and I want to kill him.
At the 30th rep, I stumble because my knee gives up a bit. Maybe the hip, hard to tell where it starts sometimes. The trainer has a heart attack trying to grab my elbow, but he misses and I become completely unstable, stumbling past the weight wall straight into two people standing next to it. Shit. It's sports bra chick who had been effortlessly out squatting me, and, fuck me sideways it's him. Shit shit shit shit.
They both turn looking concerned, and the entire gym seems to stop. They're peering down at me, concerned. "Omg it is you! I was wondering if I had hallucinated you!", he says. "Are you ok!" Sports bra girl asks at the same time, her voice is husky like a singer.
"Sorry! I'm ok! Hello!" I say from the floor. And for reasons unknown to god or man, lying there winded on the filthy gym mats, hair askew, knee on fire, in a sweaty obscene mess, I crack up laughing. Like a fucking lunatic.
She looks at me quizzically, gives him a WTF look, but then helps me up and smiles good naturedly. The trainer comes over and retrieves the errant kettle bell that caused the issue. Sports bra goes back to her reps. The gym goes back to normal.
He and I are still standing there, awkward as fuck. He discreetly looks at me, stripping me down to my soul like he always does. He takes in my red sweaty face, ratty tshirt and has the audacity to get that look. The one where he makes me feel special. Hell no.
"How is A doing," I smile and ask cheerily about his ex-wife, and that knocks the smile off his face. I watch the comment land, and he looks gutted. Shit i feel bad
"Oh, she's ok. I think anyway" He's blinking rapidly, a little choked up. He hesitates, and then lowers his voice. "We - we - decided to divorce last year. I was..." he trails off when he meets my eyes, his courage apparently failing unable to complete the sentence.
I resist the urge to jump in and fill the silence.
He looks up at me again, and then shakes his head as if to clear it. "I'm just gym buddying with my friend from work", and he jerks his head towards underwear girl. Of course he is. That fucker. I can't help but glance over, and I know there is no way my body - the one that's churned out another human - can hold a candle to her midriff. He looks a little uncomfortable seeing my expression, as if suddenly realizing what I must be thinking. He opens his mouth to say something, but I huff and wave him sway, mumbling about cradle snatching and go back to the trainer who's now holding a lighter weight and my knee brace. Damnit.
*
I'm still in the damn knee brace when I'm rooting around the locker. They had kindly given me the ones closer to the floor once they realized with my height, I couldn't reach the top level, but it's super awkward trying to pull my gym bag out with 40 yr old knees and I spill stuff out. The guy with the locker above mine of course approaches at that minute. I am at sock level. A lipstick had rolled over to his shoe. He bends down and picks it up, and crouches down to help. I look up gratefully into beautiful brown eyes. Oh for fucks sake.
He blinks rapidly, and I realize I said the last bit out loud. He looks down at me at his feet and smiles his beautiful sweet open honest smile, and just looks so... happy... to see me. The fucker.
Of course he's been given the locker above mine.
And that moment, with my sweat filled work out clothes, my shirt falling off my shoulder, hair in a French braid, on my bloody knees on a floor with all my stuff strewn around me, he's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Fuck, I feel my cheeks heat up because of his proximity. I try to take a deep breath to get a grip, to step back, but all I get is a wave of that damn cologne of his, and my mind reels unable to think. I put my hand on the floor to brace myself, I think I'm going to keel over.
He holds my elbow and gets me up, and it feels like a hot coal has touched me. I flinch, and my body ignites in flame. He is oblivious, picking up the pieces of my bag strewn around us.
My throat has slammed shut and I can't say anything. He's at my feet. I'm going to scream. He didn't call. I'm going to cry. He's hanging out with hot skinny 20 yr old's. My skin is on fire. I can't breathe. You never meant anything to him.
He's putting the stuff into my open gym bag. He looks up at me, and my heart twists. Every defense gone. He didn't even call.
Oblivious, he's now done picking up my bag. When I don't put my hand out to hold it, he awkwardly puts it on my shoulder. Cross body, how I always do it. We are standing way way too close, but I can't help it. It's like he has some sort of gravitational force field. He's this black hole and I'm the star going nova, about to be sucked in. His eyes. Chocolate. So sweet. They have so much hope. So much regret. I'm drowning in his eyes.
He raises his hand like he's going to touch me, but catches himself and stops.
I hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching and we both jump back guiltily.
I don't even thank him. I don't even try to keep my dignity. I just turn and run.
