Looking for Love

by Kathy Bosman

  ***

  Monday evening, Ella had forgotten about Ross and his new strange ways and had a new, very troubling concern.

  One of her clients.

  He sat before her in all his masculine-infused glory, and all she could do was swallow nervously and nod, listening to his long explanation of his rocky romantic history. Trying not to show her attraction to him could be a great effort.

  The poor guy. He’d been messed around big time. She could so relate. Hence the rather over-exuberant nods and concerned frowns.

  “I’m sorry. TMI,” he said and gazed at her with a piercing look that made her shudder inwardly.

  “No, not at all. This is why you’re here.” Well, sort of. Part and parcel of working with The Album—she had to give the impression that she needed to know all these things about people to find a match. Yet, in the short time she’d dealt with less than a dozen clients, she’d learned a hang of a lot about human relationships. This part-time job and possible future career sure piqued her interest.

  “Do you think I have a chance of finding the right woman in this city? Or anyone in South Africa, for that matter?”

  “Here I am. Help yourself.” Get a hold of yourself, El. You hardly know him. He’s cute, yeah, but untouchable, being one of your clients.

  “There are always at least a hundred almost-perfect matches for you somewhere in the world. Well, that’s what I believe.” The Album had proven to her already that true love did exist for some people—she’d matched up three potentially perfect couples already. Hope had begun to blossom in her heart for her friends. And herself. Maybe they could find love; it didn’t seem such an elusive thing, after all.

  Maybe love sat right before her eyes.

  He smiled at her, an amused expression in his eyes and playing at his mouth. What a sexy, pouty mouth for a man.

  “You seem far away,” he said.

  “Just thinking about my own misadventures in love.”

  “Oh, so you’ve had them, too? Tell me about them. I’m keen to know.” He bent forward and placed his forearms flat on the desk, his straight-jagged-cut hair flopping onto his forehead and stealing her breath right out her chest. She took in three calming inhalations.

  “Do you really want to hear my sad, sorry story?”

  “You gave me some sympathy. I’d like to return the kindness.”

  “But I’m your…”

  He merely stared at her and electricity pulsed from his eyes into her body like a jolt of power unknown to man, or rather, woman. Whoa!

  “Oh, well, let’s start with my first relationship after school. The guy ended up dating my friend instead—after a painful break up. Then there was Patrick. He was so pushy and wanted everything for himself but didn’t bother to give anything back. Marius actually stole money from my purse. And David, well, he got tired of me after only six months. That one hurt—I really liked him.”

  “Loved him?”

  “I don’t know.” What is love? She’d better not say that posing as a ‘love therapist.’

  He stretched out his hand and touched her palm. The fingers did a knee-jerk reaction of curling inward, mirroring her toes and the sensation in her abdomen.

  “Have you ever considered dating one of your clients?”

  She knew what he meant and usually, she’d be seriously put off by such a forward guy, but the way he said it—not in a pushy, lustful way, but a questioning, kind sort of way, her tummy did a flip and landed into her throat so she couldn’t speak a word.

  “I’m sorry. That was totally uncalled for.” He pulled back and stuffed his arms around his checked shirt which probably hid a six-pack inside, the way he oozed power and strength from his every movement.

  “No…I, it’s okay, really. I don’t normally get those requests. I…couldn’t really match you up with myself because I wouldn’t be able to judge the whole scenario properly—my subjective take on it would skew my perspective a bit.” And The Album wouldn’t allow it but we won’t divulge such details.

  “Let me put it this way—forget the match. I’ll pay for this consultation, but rather, will you go out with me tonight? Right now? Do you have any more appointments?”

  What? He wanted her? This gorgeous specimen of humanity thought her potential fodder? There was no way she could decline. No appointment, no shocked response from her friends, nothing would stop her from saying, “Yes. That would be great.”

  And she actually said it! She put on an easy, confident smile while her insides turned to jelly and she flung her knee painfully against the inside of her desk. She squeezed the edge of the wood with her hand until the pain passed, hoping he wouldn’t see how watery her eyes had become and think she was so desperate for a man, she cried at a simple date request.

  “I’ll pick you up in an hour. We can go out for supper. That okay?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. I’m famished.”

  He smiled and her tummy fell over and plunged right down into her core, tightening every female organ to its max. Imagine kissing him.

  He left, leaving his scent behind, and she sat in the chair where he’d sat the last hour and absorbed the residual body heat still in the fabric, closed her eyes, and dreamed. The office phone broke her erotic dream.

  Carol.

  “How’s it going? Got any appointments for tonight?”

  “I just helped my last and only one.”

  “Mind if I bring a work colleague over?”

  “Right now?”

  “In about thirty minutes.”

  “No, it’s not going to be possible.”

  Silence.

  Of all her friends, Carol was the most passionate about The Album. It’s like she clung onto it desperately because it had miraculously cured her of her cynicism. She hated disappointing her friend. “Can they not come tomorrow night?”

  “Oh, all right. What’s up? You okay?”

  “I…” She had to tell her friends, but how? “I have a date.”

  “With one of your clients?”

  “He asked me first. Well, I wouldn’t have asked him but he’s so cute. Oh, Carol, he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever been asked—”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “But I don’t want to miss out on going out with him.”

  “As a part of this business, I won’t allow it.”

  “Carol, please.” She balled her fists and wanted to scream. She did feel guilty about the whole thing but she enjoyed being naughty and doing something reckless and crazy for a change—in the love sense, of course. And Carol wanted to stop that.

  “I’ll call you back.”

  She hung up, leaving Ella wondering who of the Famous Four she’d call first and get on her side. At least Ross would understand. He’d been bugging her to go on a date for over a year because she’d backed off from dating altogether, deciding it was too stressful, and there was no point doing it until she’d found someone worth going out with.

  Should she call him? Ask his advice? He’d been anti-The Album for so long. This time, she wasn’t using The Album. It really had very little to do with it. Without thinking too deeply about it, she called Ross.

  “Hi.” He sounded so quiet, so serious.

  She nearly dropped the phone as if it were a hot coal.

  “Ella?”

  He knew it was her. How did he?

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad. Been worried about you. Did you survive Saturday with all those people in your house? Were any of them chancers or losers come to take advantage of you?”

  “Ross, none of them. They were all legit and very good clients. Talking about clients, one of them asked me on a date today.” Her voice came out fake upbeat. “Can you believe it? At last I said yes.”

  “You what?”

  Not the response she had expected.

  “He doesn’t mind not being my client. I mean, I can forego one payment. It’s going well. Anyway, I’m not doing this for the money. I’m doing i
t to help my community.”

  “I knew you’d get sucked in by these creeps. They’re guys who can’t find a decent girl, so they—”

  “Ross, come on. He’s really nice. We had a long chat. He’s a lot like you—had some bad luck relationships. We have that in common. Maybe there’s a chance.”

  Silence.

  She should have kept her mouth shut and not told a soul. Seemed like no one wanted to share in her joy.

  “I can’t say I trust this. I can’t tell you what to do, but I just don’t feel right about it.”

  One up on Carol. But still bossy.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you—”

  “No, El. You must tell me. I suppose.”

  He sounded so sad. Her insides lurched. Suddenly, the date with Dirk didn’t seem so exciting anymore.

  “It doesn’t mean our friendship is over. You know that. We’ve always made it clear right from the beginning to our dates that we have this friendship between us.”

  “I know.”

  Her heart churned inside of her. What was up with him? She didn’t like him to be sad. It kind of burst the bubble of happiness since she’d said yes to her date.

  “Are you okay, Ross?”

  “I don’t know. Let me come over.”

  “Right now?” She looked at her watch.

  “Just for a few minutes.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  She put the phone down and rushed upstairs to her bedroom to dress for her date. At least that would make it less of a rush when Ross left. She put on her favourite smart jeans and a new blouse she’d splashed out on for a work dinner which she’d only worn once. She took about five minutes to straighten her hair and apply a fresh coat of make-up. She spritzed her Egyptian perfume on and rushed to brush her teeth. While the electric toothbrush droned on, she used her free hand to strap on her heeled sandals. The doorbell rang. She rinsed and spat and hobbled downstairs in her strappy shoes with the one buckle undone.

  She flung open the door. Ross stood there, biting the inside of his cheek.

  “Come in. I’ve just got ready so it’s not such a rush. He’s coming in about forty minutes. His name is Dirk, by the way.”

  Ross merely stared at her and then his face grew all soft and sentimental, like she’d expect her mom to be when she got engaged. He reached forward and stroked her cheek with the side of his forefinger. She shivered and pushed him out the way to close the door.

  “Whew, there’s a biting breeze coming in through that door. Must be rain on the way.”

  He didn’t walk in and sit down like she expected but stood in the entrance as if his feet were glued to the floor. Did he have a strong feeling about her date? Like this was it. Maybe Dirk would be ‘the man.’ Could she have found the love of her life at last? She bent down to buckle up her left shoe. As she came up, feeling a little light-headed from the rushing and the sudden head lift, she found Ross’s face very close to hers. Too close for comfort. He rested his palm on her cheek and then brought his mouth onto hers. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her firmly around the waist with his other hand.

  Ross was kissing her?

  Since when did Ross kiss…?

  Oh, darn, the kiss felt nice.

  Her head spun. Warm streaks of comfort sank into her. She closed her eyes and took in his scent. Ross’s scent was warm, manly, and quite pleasant today. Not like it usually wasn’t. Somehow, it didn’t seem brotherly anymore. He pulled her close to him so that her chest pressed against his and he stroked her back, sending more shivers through her. She should be imagining kissing Dirk. He was the one she wanted. Definitely not Ross.

  She pinched his arm.

  “Ouch.” He blew the words into her face.

  She slapped his chest. “Hey! You promised.”

  “Promised what?”

  “Never to do that.”

  “I didn’t. It was merely suggested. Years ago. Before—”

  “Before what?” She didn’t want to know. What difference did it make? Their friendship had been hanging on the balance the last week, anyway.

  “I realised I love you.”

  “Oh, no! I just knew it. You’ve messed up everything.” Anger pulsed through her. Her breath came in gasps. She could kick him out but the look he gave her tugged at her heart. This made things so much more complicated. How could she hurt her friend? The guy who’d been there for her for so long.

  But they couldn’t change the way things were between them. It just wouldn’t work. Anyway, looking at him now, he was too familiar. The same body form she’d studied for years. Where would she find the sexual desires for him? Yeah, sure, he could kiss well, but more than that? With someone she knew like the back of her hand? Not possible.

  “El, you look…” He took her hands. “I couldn’t help kissing you. I wish you’d dress up like that more often.”

  “Well, it’s been over a year since I’ve needed to and now you’re going to spoil it all… I’m sorry, I don’t know how to handle this.” She hated that she pouted like a spoiled kid but Ross had sent her mind into confusion.

  She slumped onto the couch on her stomach and buried her face in a scatter cushion. He didn’t make it any easier by sitting next to her and stroking her back in the space between the straps. She shivered again and tears came to her eyes and smudged against the pillow and her cheeks. Bet she looked like a stupid raccoon now.

  “I love you, El. I’ve loved you for so long but was so darned blind that I couldn’t see it at all. Until…I don’t know. I just realised it a few months back.”

  “So that’s why you’ve been acting so strange.” She didn’t lift her head and revelled in his gentle touch, trying to work out if it made her feel sexual. It couldn’t. It shouldn’t. But it felt comforting. And tingly.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit short with you lately. It’s not really anything to do with your business or the house or work. It’s because I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you, but every time I did, well, it just didn’t seem the right time.” His eyes were steeped with softness when she looked up into them.

  “When your business started, I didn’t like it. I was worried for you. Didn’t want you to get hurt again. Then I realised I was getting in your way—becoming too manipulative and bossing you around. I decided I’d better back off a bit and forget the whole love thing because it changed the dynamic between us—it made things toxic. But then when you told me you had a date, well, I couldn’t sit back and pretend anymore. It would have killed me to see you go with another man before you found out how I feel about you. Not that I hoped for a positive response. Well, I kind of hoped against all hope.”

  The tears turned into sobs that she tried to stifle into the pillow. What was going on inside her? She didn’t want to hurt him. This was horrible. And he was so sweet about it. He gave the perfect love confession. Whatever girl nabbed him one day would be the happiest woman in the whole world.

  “Why are you crying?” He stroked her back and then bent down to give her a squeeze.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Ross.”

  He pulled away and the stroking stopped. Her heart felt as cold as the Arctic.

  “I could try to make it happen between us.” She sat up, not caring about the tears and the state of her hair. It was Ross, anyway. “But it would probably mess things up really bad and hurt us both in the long run, even more than I’m going to hurt you now.”

  He nodded, his eyes speaking volumes to her.

  She grabbed his hand. “I do love you, Ross, but not in the same way. And I want it to stay like that.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t keep on seeing you and not kiss you or hold you. It would kill me slowly and painfully.”

  “I knew it would come to this, eventually.” She dropped her head down and looked at their hands intertwined. As good as it felt to be close to Ross physically, she
didn’t know if she could go all the way with him. Didn’t know if it would last. Before they both ended up with broken hearts.

  She let go of his hand. At least she had a date to look forward to. Else this night would be the pits. “I don’t want our friendship to be messed up, Ross. If we took a break of sorts? Time to cool off. Then pick up from where we left off?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to leave you. I care about you too much. But I’m becoming a monster, too. Yes, maybe a break will be a good thing.”

  He ran a hand through his fringe, sending the curly, thick brown locks into a cowlick. She had to clamp her lips together to stop a giggle from coming out.

  “Okay, then a break it is.” She sucked in a calming breath and stood up. “I’d better go and neaten up again. Can’t go on a first date with mascara on my cheeks and mussed hair.”

  “You look perfect like that. I always liked you a bit rough and tumble.”

  “Ross.” What did he mean by that? Was it a sexual connotation? Her cheeks became hot, and with shaky legs, she made her way back upstairs to fix herself up. Peering down from the top of the stairs, she called to him. “Let yourself out if you want.”

  “I will, then.”

  He sounded strong but she sensed it—the hurt seeped through her house and hung like a rotten fruit from her ceiling. She sat by her dressing table and looked at herself in the mirror. Self-loathing made it very difficult to see herself as beautiful for a date. She couldn’t even look herself in the eyes. How could she have done that to him?

  No, it was better for both of them.

  Yet, she’d become one of those women who’d broken Ross’s heart. She’d always wanted to take revenge on the women who’d hurt him in the past—send them stinking letters about how wonderful Ross was and how insensitive they were to dump him or treat him like dirt. Now, she’d become one of them.

  “You did the right thing,” she spoke to her make-up box. “Saved him and yourself from untold hardship and heartache. And you did it nicely. Not like you…” She glanced at her crumpled-up face in the mirror. Why the tears now? What was wrong with her?

  The pain emanated from an assurance deep inside that this was going to be a break from their friendship. She knew, like a stone sitting in the centre of her gut—she’d never see Ross ever again.

  And it hurt.

  Come on, El. You’ve got a date in like… She looked at her watch. Ten minutes.

  She scrubbed at the errant waterworks on her cheeks with her fingers, tapped them dry with a cotton wool round, and then applied some concealer. She slathered mascara on her lashes and forced herself not to cry. But the dry, empty feeling didn’t want to leave her alone.

  Even when Dirk came to fetch her wearing the most stunning outfit she could have ever have imagined on him.