The Proverbial Mr. Universe

by Maria La Serra

  “Hypothetically speaking, let’s just say we met here for the first time.” He looked around. “Would you have given me a chance?” He made a silly face, which made her laugh.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t believe you would give me a chance in hell.”

  She gave him a perplexed look. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Because I already told you about a small part of myself and now you’re curious about me. You can’t help wanting to know more.” He grinned.

  She leaned into her heel. “I do recognize you from Café Orleans, sitting in the back with a sketchbook and a pencil behind your ear, wearing one of your lamest T-shirt and that sad looking hat.”

  “Hey, I love that hat. I only wear it on special occasions.” He smiled. “I’ll have you know those lame T-shirts were all a ploy, a way for you to notice me. What can I say, I’m a man who chooses substance over style.”

  She smiled. “Of course I noticed you, Montgomery. Any hot-blooded woman would notice you.”

  He gave her a curious look, but she turned away before he could question her any further.

  “So you think I’m beautiful, Montgomery?” she asked without looking at him.

  “You are unbelievable, breathtakingly … beautiful.” He could tell by the look in her eyes that his bluntness took her by surprise. Perhaps she didn’t expect that from him, but it was the truth. “But that’s not the reason I find myself so compelled to you.”

  “So what is it?” she said in half whisper.

  “It’s something that can’t be explained.” He ran his hand through his hair, looked up at the ceiling, and tried to gather his words. “It’s like I’ve been wandering around without a purpose, then out of the blue, I look up and there you are, and all of a sudden everything makes perfect sense. I get this feeling inside me that says, “Hey, I think I should know you.’ It’s like a sweet déjà vu. You evoke all these sentiments and familiarity in me without saying a single word.” He paused. “I feel like our souls knew each other before. I don’t understand it myself, but with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m trying to get to know you … more like I already do.”

  “Don’t tell me you believe in past lives, Montgomery? Are you trying to tell me you think we knew each other in another lifetime?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Why couldn’t it be possible? Think of all the drama that’s going on above our heads? Stars that are born and then die, the sun that gives life, the moon that keeps us in place, the many distant galaxies that exist. The universe … it’s surreal. Why couldn’t it be possible for something more?” He glanced up to find her smiling the kind of smile when someone was trying to decide on how they felt about the other person. “Anyhow, whatever it is … faith, destiny, or pure dumb luck, all I know if I followed that thread, I am almost sure it will always lead me right back to you.”

  Her mouth slightly opened, but nothing came out. She was speechless. Maybe he freaked her out a bit. His stomach twisted in knots, and he had a profound feeling that he derailed the train before it even had a chance to take off.

  “Sorry, I said too much … maybe I’m just not explaining myself correctly.”

  “No … you did.”

  “Then what?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I just got chills.” She slightly shook herself as though she felt the electricity running between them.

  “What’s that about?”

  “I don’t know, what you just said I guess …”

  “I’m glad I have a profound effect on you,” Nick said.

  He could hear the sound of Olivia’s heels clicking on the marble floor as she traversed to the next canvas behind him.

  After a short moment, she said, “Well, I guess … if I did live in the past, I’d hope it would be in the Victorian era.”

  “Why?”

  “I would have liked to have met artists like Tissot and Renoir.”

  “Are those your favorite artists?” Nick swung his legs over the bench to get a better look at her.

  “A few … not that I studied much of their work or know much about them, but I had taken a Costume History back in college.” She tilted her head to the side. “You know, you probably would fit right in …” She lifted her chin, indicating his facial hair. “Facial hair for men was quite the trend in the Victorian period.” She laughed.

  “I know, right? What a pair we would make. I would be some starving artist and you would be some duke’s daughter.”

  “No! I wouldn’t want to be a duke’s daughter. Why would you say that?” She looked into her glass.

  Nick was curious about her, but then again, he was always curious about people in general. He liked to figure them out in his head before getting to know them. Like a mathematical equation: take their upbringing—or lack thereof—plus the joys, subtract the fears and pitfalls, equals the person you find in front of you. He wasn’t entirely sure why he did that. Maybe because he was brought up on broken glass and bread crumbs. If he added all of his handful of joys, subtracted his tribulations and sorrows, he should have turned out to be an entirely different human. He was trying hard to defy the odds.

  But Olivia had been by far the most interesting person he had ever met, because of the person she deliberately tried to repress. There was something about her that was so lonesome but yet so refine. Like a fine-cut diamond that illuminated when the light hit it, he couldn’t help but feel at peace and bask in the warm glow. It was a shame that she didn’t see what he saw.

  “Then who would you be?”

  “I’d rather be some starving artist’s muse.”

  “Ah …” He evaluated her answer. If she chose to be in his life, she would never starve … not in any shape or form. He would make sure of it. In his eyes, Olivia wasn’t just any random person that happened to walk into his life. Whatever defined this fascinating life or the next one after it … if another parallel universe existed, whatever the belief, whatever higher power might be, there was only one truth he felt at that moment: he had found the piece of the puzzle he had been looking for. Maybe there was a danger in believing that there was only one person that is made for you, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “What?” He gave her a sideways glance.

  “I was just thinking.”

  “That might be dangerous …”

  “Funny guy.” She came closer and nudged him. “I was trying to picture your face … What you look like under all that hair.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “What? You don’t find this sexy?”

  “No! Not at all.” She laughed. “Sorry, the lumberjack look is just not doing it for me,” she teased.

  He stifled a laugh. “Smartass.”

  “What possessed you to grow it out anyway? And I know you didn’t do it because it’s trendy right now,” Olivia said without looking at him, walking toward the next painting.

  “I don’t actually follow what’s trendy … I’m a man who chooses substance over style, remember.”

  She glanced back at him.

  “I had this for so long, I’m probably the one who started this.”

  She smiled.

  “Well, at first, it was pure laziness … but then the girls seemed to like it, so it stuck.” He gave her one of his best grins.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s always because of the girls.”

  “Well, I won’t shave this for any girl. This is part of the package.” He rubbed his jaw.

  “Really? I bet I can get you to shave it off …”

  “Is that so?” He raised his brows.

  “Yeah,” she said more confidently.

  “How are you supposed to do that?”

  “Well, that’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  It was evident that the two glasses of wine and champagne were now talking. She was opening up, less uptight, and he liked this side of Olivia.

  “This sounds more like a bet.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “So wha
t do you want to bet for?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is it that I want from you?”

  “I could give you a few suggestions,” he mused.

  She ignored his remark. “Alright, Montgomery, if I win, you have to cook dinner for me … for a week, and I’m not talking about a mac and cheese kind of dinner.”

  He grunted. “I’ll let you know I can cook a pretty mean meal. I have never made mac and cheese from a box in my entire life.”

  “Great! I’ve never had a man cook for me before.”

  “Not even Mr. Smarty Pants?”

  She laughed. “Dario? No, never.”

  “So what is it you want from me?” she asked.

  His eyes lingered on her full lips.

  “A kiss.”

  She blushed. “I can get great tickets to a hockey game …”

  “Just a kiss.”

  “Scrub your floors or do your laundry for a month.”

  “No.”

  She looked perplexed. “Well, normally when you make bets, usually the prize is something big, not something easily obtained.”

  “Are you saying you want me to kiss you?”

  “Listen, Montgomery, if there is one thing you need to know about me it’s…” she placed her empty champagne glass on the side table, returning her eyes back to his. “…I’m not the kind of girl you can kiss very easily.” He liked the way she was so confident, trying to hide her smile from him.

  “You know, those are the best ones to kiss.” He smiled more brightly, and she playfully rolled her eyes at him. “Joking aside, I know what kind of girl you are, Olivia. I think the issue here is you don’t know what type a guy I am.”

  “So tell me then? Who is Nick Montgomery?”

  “I could tell you, but you should never trust what someone says about themselves. It’s something you need to see for yourself.”

  “Seeing is believing,” she murmured. “You’re a very strange man, Montgomery.”

  “All you need to know right now from me is I gain nothing from hurting someone. I’m not a fraud, and I hope in time you can see that.”

  The words were out there so suddenly that neither of them spoke for a short moment. She studied him like she was trying to decide something. As she leaned in closer, the air around them seemed to charge that if he lit a match, the whole room would disintegrate.

  Damn electrifying heat.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way … I find you irresistibly attractive.”

  The corner of her lips curved up slightly. Just as he decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss her, a crowd of people walked into the room.

  On Monday morning Olivia woke, pulled her hair up into a bun and headed for the kitchen. She didn’t get much sleep and needed something to pick her up. Caffeine was always the best remedy for drowsiness. As she stirred her coffee, her mind kept going back to the night before.

  After she had left the gallery, Nick walked her back to her car. They continued to talk for another forty-five minutes. It was surprising how easy it was to listen to his voice, discovering things about him … and maybe even about herself. It had been a long time since she could talk about things that she enjoyed, things that mattered to her instead of corporate stuff and Dario’s interests. She forgot how simple things could be. There was a sense of sweetness about Nick, the way he looked at her, the way he smiled like he was fascinated when she spoke, like she mattered. Olivia couldn’t remember the last time someone made her feel that way.

  God, she hated to be disappointed.

  Olivia caught her reflection in the glass window. She was smiling from ear to ear. She was smitten, yet felt so conflicted. Her mind was telling her that she shouldn’t rush into anything. She just came out of a long relationship and still had some loose ends to tie up.

  If this worked out between them, there was still the issue with her father. Nick came from a different background. Would he be able to fit in her life or she in his? Her father would never approve, but then again it was her life wasn’t it? Her heart told a very different story. Every time she thought of Nick, she had this sensation … a rush of excitement, like butterflies dancing in her stomach. She rubbed her eyes. How could this have happened? She didn’t need this right now. She needed to focus on getting this apartment sold and getting herself in gear to show her boss she was worthy enough to be called a designer. She certainly worked hard enough for it.

  On the second buzz, Olivia picked her iPhone off the counter. She knew who it was before looking at her screen. Who else besides her mom would call her at six o’clock in the morning?

  “Hey, Nina …”

  “Were you sleeping?”

  “No.”

  “Is he there?”

  “Who?”

  “Nick.”

  “Oh yeah, he left ten minutes ago.”

  “Don’t tell me he slept over?”

  “Oh yeah, I had a slumber party. We braided each other’s hair. It was fun. What did you think would happen?” Olivia laughed.

  “Very funny. It’s none of my business anyhow. What you do is your own business, Liv.”

  “Relax. He didn’t come over if that’s what you’re thinking.” Olivia could hear her sister’s exasperated breath of relief. Nina thought sleeping with someone on the first date was not a very intelligent thing to do. Mother Teresa could rest assure that sex was definitely the last thing Olivia had on her mind.

  It wasn’t really Nina’s fault that she had been a goody-goody. They were raised in a very traditional Catholic home. Growing up, their mother drilled the message into them so when it came to boys, sex, and modesty, it was a religion of its own.

  Around the time when Olivia was five, she remembered her mother flipping through the pages of some celebrity magazine. There was a picture of an actress during the sixties. She was on some tropical beach, posing provocatively in a bikini … provocative for those days anyhow. The picture beside it was of the same actress thirty years later … apparently Botox didn’t exist back then.

  “See, Olivia, this is what happens when you wear stuff like this? You get old and ugly.”

  Even to this day, Olivia was uneasy wearing a swimsuit, let alone a bikini.

  Oh, Mediterranean mothers, got to love them.

  “So aren’t you going to ask me how my date went? Or were you more concern about my modesty going to ruin?”

  “Like it or not, you are on my list of concerns, Olivia. When are you going to get that?”

  Olivia heard the dishes clanking together and cartoons playing in the background.

  “What list?” Olivia laughed.

  “I have a list of concerns … people that I love the most. My son comes first, then it’s our parents, and you and Paul, of course.”

  “And what about Peter?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry P—”

  Olivia heard Peter in the background.

  “What did he say?” Olivia asked.

  “He said, what else is new.” She then said to Peter, “Oh, Peter, I could never forget you. You come after Charlie.”

  Charlie was their two-year-old Yorkie. Peter said something to her and she laughed.

  “You’re terrible, you know that,” Olivia said.

  “Okay, so how did it go?”

  “Well, surprisingly, I had a good time.”

  Olivia studied the plant on the window ledge, frowning at its poor condition. It had been brittle and neglected, barely surviving. Then, she wondered what else had she neglected? She’s been trying so hard to make everyone around her happy, never considering her own happiness in the process. She failed to take care of herself, slowly withering away, and now she wondered if it would be possible revive herself to a time before Dario broke her.

  “So … are you going to see him again?”

  “I don’t know. The thing is … well, I’m not sure we have much in common. He works at a bar. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but …”

  Her sister repeated what she just said back t
o Peter.

  “What did he say?” Olivia asked. “I am what? Oh for Pete’s sake, Nina, just put me on the speaker.”

  “Hello, Peter, glad you can join our session this morning. Let me first summarize the days of Olivia’s life. No, I didn’t sleep with him, I have no intention of sleeping with him or anyone, and no, I’m not shallow.”

  He laughed. “Olivia, let me give you a piece of advice.” Peter cleared his throat, acting like he was her therapist or spiritual guidance counselor. “Look, you just got out of a difficult situation. I think it would be smart to take the time to heal yourself before moving into another relationship.” He paused. “As for him working at a bar, little grasshopper, there are plenty of good people out there, and they don’t all drive BMWs. What you have to keep in mind is that you should surround yourself with people that make you feel good about yourself, and that, my dear, is a rare commodity. There’s no money in the world that could ever buy you that. It’s your call.”

  “Is that why you married my sister?”

  “You bet. She makes me feel special every day.”

  “Do I detect sarcasm, Peter?”

  “No, it’s the honest truth. I don’t need to explain your sister to you. On the exterior, she acts all tough, but on the inside she’s an extraordinary woman.”

  “Aw, you’re so sweet … hey… are you Mr. Universe?”

  “Mr. who?”

  “No, Olivia, it can’t be Peter. Have you seen his handwriting? It’s so meticulous.” Nina said.

  “Can I know what you guys are talking about?”

  “I’ll explain later. Olivia, I’ve got to go, but keep me posted on this?”

  “Yeah, sure. We should do this again … sometime next week?”

  “Yeah the first session is free, then it’s fifty dollars an hour.” Peter laughed.

  “Yeah, sure, Pete. Are you free next week?” Olivia could hear her nephew’s antics in the background.

  “Anthony, get off from there!” Nina said.

  There was a crash and the sound of broken glass.

  “Is everything okay?” Olivia asked.

  “Ugh, I have to let you go. Your nephew just dropped his bowl of cereal all over the floor for the second time this morning. Hey, Olivia, you said you have the agent coming this morning?”