“You told me you liked him,” Jessica said, a matter-of-factly.
“No, I said I liked being around him … as a friend.”
“But I don’t understand.” She looked perplexed. “I don’t want to pry into your business, but Nick is an amazing guy. I don’t want you to mess things up.”
“You barely know him. You met him what? Two times?” Olivia paused. “You’re my friend. You should be on my side.” She frowned.
Jessica’s face scrunched up, like she was fighting with something. She had some sort of secret she’d been hiding from Olivia.
“Look, I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell Nick that I told you …”
Just before Jessica could say what it was, Racheal walked into the room so fast that it made the papers fly off her desk.
“What’s the deal, Olivia?”
“What?” Honestly having no idea what her problem was.
“I thought you told me you and Nick were only friends.”
“Yeah, we are …”
“He said he was seeing someone.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you!” Racheal gave her cheesy grin and walked back out.
“My, my, my, what a web we weave. You shouldn’t be playing games, Olivia, especially if you like the guy.”
“I’m not playing games.”
Then the light flooded into Jessica’s eyes. “You were testing him. You wanted to see if he would say yes. Olivia, not all men are like Dario.”
“No, it wasn’t that.”
But she was right. Olivia was playing a game and jealousy got the best of her. And if she was jealous, then she had to admit Nick meant something to her.
“Hey, don’t get offended, but I don’t think it’s fair to make a man chase your heart just because you’re afraid to be alone. So get your shit together will you? If you like him more than just friends, then tell him. He doesn’t deserve to get his heart broken. I’m disappointed in you. You of all people know how that feels. Oh, by the way, Nick was a perfect fit … I guess it was meant to be,” Jessica said on her way out, not before a folded paper fell out of the sample pile she was carrying.
Olivia already knew what it was, even before it touched the floor.
“Give me your hand,” Nick said from inside the near-empty Café Orleans. Olivia sat across from him, wondering what Racheal might have told him. She decided she was going to be honest with him if Nick was going to question her, but he said nothing.
“No way, the last time you drew on my wrist it took nearly a week for your artwork to wash off.”
“Just give me your hand. I promise I’ll behave.” He leaned in closer to be able to reach for her, turning her palm upward. With a finger, he followed the lines on her hand.
“That tickles.” She laughed.
“See this line …” His eyes were soft and expressive. “This is your lifeline.”
“And how would you know this?”
“Long ago, I met this woman at an art gallery. She just took one look at me and felt compelled to do a reading of my palm.”
“Of course she did.”
“Olivia, you have nothing to be jealous about.” He smirked at her. “She was much older and very happily married.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Something about his face silently revealed to her that he was aware of what happened earlier with Racheal. Olivia wondered if he was disappointed in the fact she viewed them only as friends. If he was, Nick certainly didn’t show it.
He held her hand even closer to his body and moved it up into the light coming from the big window. He continued gently tracing the lines of her inner hand. When he touched her, there was a chill that ran up the length of her arms, all the way to the back of her neck, that made her wondered if he was aware of her reaction.
Olivia tried not to stare at him too long. She never imagined that the guy with the frumpy gray hat could ever have that kind of effect on her.
“See this line over here … this will tell you how long or short your life will be,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers. “Yours is a long one.”
“Well, that’s good to know. What about you?”
Olivia was skeptical when it came to these things, but she was curious especially when Nick hesitated. When he finally held out his hand to her, she realized it had meant something to him.
“My lifeline is short. It breaks in certain places … it means …” His eyes remained focused on his hand, not capable of continuing with words.
She realized there was something raw about him in that moment. He had been through something that he wasn’t ready to talk about.
Then, the thought of Nick having a short life saddened her.
“Is that what she told you? You can’t possibly believe that kind of crap? No, Montgomery, I don’t believe anybody has the power to tell us what our future holds.”
He studied her for a moment as though he might debate it, but for one reason or another Nick let it slide. “Maybe you’re right,” The gleam in his eyes insinuated something she couldn’t fully understand, but it was his demeanour that caused her some concern.
“Give me your hand,” Olivia demanded.
“Is it my turn now?”
She turned his hand over, pretending she knew what she was doing. “Wow, this is interesting.” She traced the lines with her finger. It made him shift in his chair.
“What?”
“Well, this line over here …”
“If you continue doing that, you’re going to put me to sleep.”
“I see in the near future you’re about to lose a bet.”
“Is that so?” He laughed.
“Yeah, big time. And this line over here means you’re going to be making an extraordinary meal for an exceptional, smart, beautiful brunette.” Her eyes danced.
“Really? I wonder who she could be.” He chuckled.
She narrowed her eyes and nudged his hand away.
“Tell me something. Do you see a passionate kiss with this beautiful woman?” His face completely changed, and he wasn’t being playful this time.
She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Without a thought, she said, “Nope. Sorry, no kiss.” She nervously laughed.
“Exceptional eh?” He smiled.
“Don’t forget beautiful and smart.”
Nick got up from his chair and slid on his black windbreaker. “More like a smart-ass, but I think I like your reading better. It’s a shame, though. I would have like to have kissed her.”
Outside, Nick accompanied her back to her office, but before doing so he swiftly stepped in the direction of a homeless man taking shelter between the walls of her building. Olivia had recognized him. It was the man who had given her the first handwritten note.
“Hey, John.” Nick handed him the brown bag, containing a few items she saw Nick purchase at the café.
“Mademoiselle, I see you found your man,” John said to her.
Olivia turned to Nick, but he ignored the comment.
“How are you, John?”
“Thriving.”
The homeless man took a long look. “Is this your girl?” John asked.
Nick turned to look at her and smiled. “Not yet … but I’m working on it. Maybe you could help me out, give a good word on my behalf.”
John pointed his finger in Nick’s direction. “This boy has a big heart. Too big for his sake. Did you know this young man has been going up and down these streets for months, trying to figure out how to approach you?”
“Ah … John!” Nick laughed nervously.
“That’s how we met. He was so distracted by your presence that he nearly didn’t see me lying here. He almost toppled on top of me. So it’s really thanks to you, mademoiselle that we met.” He smiled.
“Okay, John, that’s enough. I’m grateful for your input, but I don’t want you to scare her off.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Nick. What can I say? Love … it’s always
about love.” he said.
Olivia sensed Nick’s uneasiness. She wasn’t really sure if she ever saw him blush, and she found it endearing.
“I got to go, John, but I will be around later … okay?”
He nodded his head and escorted Olivia to the front door.
Olivia gave him a sideways glance. “Did that actually happen? How you two met?”
“Well, not exactly.” He smiled, but it was the kind where he wasn’t willing to convey the truth.
“I always wonder how someone gets to that point in their life. Did he always live this way?”
“Well, it’s a matter of series of unfortunate happenings. See, for John he lost his parents at a very young age and was in and out of foster care. One day he had enough and decided that life on the streets was best for him. He felt it was the only way to have his freedom.”
“How old is he?”
“Forty-two.”
“Wow, he seems much older.”
“Life on the streets can do that.”
“I see that you care about him.”
“Well, John is my friend. It’s important to have people in your life that matter.”
Olivia caught herself staring at him. The more she saw, the more she liked about him. He definitely had his priorities in the right places. That was probably one of the things she finds most attractive about him. Nick Montgomery was all heart, yet this feeling consumed her because she couldn’t see where this was headed. At that moment, it was very easy to fall for someone like Nick. Olivia just wasn’t sure if she would allow herself to.
Nick shuffled the thick, wet snow with his feet, making a neat pile in front of him, stopping when the cold water seeped inside his black high-top Converse sneakers. The breeze was crisp and cold, but the air had already begun to change, the scent of spring lingering not too far. Maybe it was some ironic humor to wait for Olivia to arrive, standing in front of a rustic double heart sculpture outside the modern building. It made him think how brutally ironic life can be, like some sort of inside joke on his part. They spent a substantial amount of time together, but he felt he wasn’t getting any closer to her. She was holding back.
Was he stuck in the friend zone? His brother Dan had thought so.
“Stop playing it safe!”
“I’m not. Olivia is not the kind of girl who rushes into things. She’s not Chloe.”
“Well that’s a fuckin’ good thing. I don’t get it at all. It’s either you’re in a relationship or you’re not. If you didn’t grab that ass, then you’re stuck in the fuckin’ besties purgatory.” Dan leaned over and carelessly placed his mug on the coffee table. “You have to be clear about your intentions.”
“And grabbing her ass would be a way of showing his intentions?” Amanda placed a coaster under Dan’s mug.
“Yeah, sure … it worked for you.” Dan extended a loving hand to her, but she slapped it away.
“For once I agree with your brother.” Amanda slid next to Dan on the sofa.
Nick arched a brow. “Not the ass grabbing part.” She slapped Dan even harder this time.
“Ouch … see the abuse!”
“Maybe you’re unconsciously sending signals that you’re not attracted to her in that way.”
“She knows I’m wildly attracted to her … at least, I hope.”
“Okay, so there is chemistry between you two?” Amanda inched closer to the edge of her seat and laced her fingers together, as if she was the love guru and the session was about to begin.
“I like to think so …”
“Has she shown you that she’s attracted to you, or said anything to confirm it?”
Nick winced.
“Does she flirt with you?”
“Well, what do you mean by flirting?”
“Have you guys kissed?”
“Well … no.”
“Seriously?”
“Why are you so surprised? I’m not going to be a jerk about this … I mean, I really like her and I don’t want to mess things up. I know she’s been through something and if she needs time to figure things out, then I’m going to have to respect that.”
“God, I’m marrying the wrong brother.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop being such a wimp. Do you want a relationship with this girl or do you want to play Patty Cake?”
Amanda placed her hand in front of Dan’s mouth, letting out a long breath. “How are you two even related?”
“You shouldn’t hold back because it’s safe and you don’t want to ruin what you already have with her.” Her eyes softened. “I get it, but your feelings matter too, Nick. You have to let your actions show your confidence. Be yourself. Show her that you’re serious about this. She’ll see what a genuinely stand-up guy, which I already know you are.”
“Have you told her about …?”
“My issues … no. I’m trying to figure out where I stand in all this before I jump that hurdle.”
“Just be clear with her. If you like her, don’t hide your intentions. Girls sense when a guy is not straight with them, and that’s what usually scares them off.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
Dan stifled a laugh just as Nick looks down at his watch. “I better go before I’m late for my date. Thanks for breakfast, Mandy.” Nick leaned in to plant a kiss on the top of her head.
“Have a good time on your date … Have fun braiding hair or building sand castles … or whatever girls do with their besties.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“I love you too, brother. Just remember one thing: stop fucking playing Patty Cake.”
“Hey, Montgomery.”
Finally.
Nick turned to see her behind him, walking down the stairs, heading straight for him.
The light came up from behind her, making the vision of her so angelic. The air lightly lifted her silky hair across her face, and he resisted the urge to push it away. She pulled a strand of hair away from her face, revealing her beautiful elephantine eyes. It seemed could never get enough of that sight. His gaze might have made her uncomfortable because she was the first to break away from his intense stare and hid her blushing cheeks from him.
He was so afraid to utter the words describing how he felt about her. All this time they spent together, he had been plotting, scheming, and contemplating, only to find himself sitting just outside her door. Nick wondered if he would ever manage to turn the doorknob.
“You’re late.” He teasingly looked up from his black, leather-strap watch.
“Technically, I’m not.” She pulled two tickets out of her back pocket with enthusiasm and waved them in the air, smiling brightly like she had beat him at his own game.
“I’ve been in line for the past twenty minutes,” she said with a big smile. “What’s the matter? You thought I stood you up?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“No, not necessarily.” He paused. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“Come on, Montgomery. Let’s go see what’s so special about this place.”
A particular conversation he had few weeks ago with Olivia brought Nick downtown. Olivia declared that Montreal had nothing to offer, that she lived in this city not by choice. He decided he was going to prove her wrong and show her a city that had so much to offer, so he thought the museum was another good place to show her otherwise.
The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts spanned four buildings and was linked to underground galleries. Each building housed different art. The first pavilion housed world cultures, the second decorative arts and designs, and the last two buildings housed international, Quebec, and Canadian art. He was dumbfounded when she told him that she’d never been to the museum.
“How was that even possible? Where have you been?”
“Okay, funny man, you have to agree with me. It could never compare to any museum in Europe.”
Well, she was right there.
Inside, Olivia handed him his ticket.
“Bu
t I invited you out?”
“It’s okay to let a girl pay from time to time … Don’t worry I won’t think less of you.”
“Alright, Monti, but I got lunch, okay?” He took one ticket out of her hand. “By the way … thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So where do we start?” Olivia held out the museum map.
“We won’t need that. I know my way around like the back of my hand.”
They walked through one room that led to another, like it was some maze. A crowd was taking pictures with their phones and their murmured sounds seemed to be background noise. Then again, Olivia had always made him feel like there was never anyone else in existence. They walked in a room with sculpture scattered all around the large room. Some were displayed in glass cases, but there was one familiar statue at the center of the room.
“I wonder what he’s thinking.” Nick smiled at Olivia.
Olivia frowned. “Whatever it is, he doesn’t seem too happy about it.”
The bronze cast of Rodin’s The Thinker sat upon a large, lacquered, black box. It was much smaller in person than in the photographs Nick used to look when he was a kid, before he even aspired to become an artist.
“He’s probably thinking: Rough night. What the heck did I do last night, and where are my clothes?”
Nick smiled. “Rodin originally created the statue to represent Dante, the author of the Divine Comedy, but it came to represent the creative mind at work. This is how I start my brainstorm.”
Olivia smiles back. “Naked and constipated?”
He laughed.
“Do you recognize her?” He stepped aside for her to get a better view. It was less crowded where they stood. Only a handful of art students were in the corner, scribbling away in their notebooks.
“Is that what I think it is? Tissot?”
He silently fixed his eyes on her, taking in the large rectangle canvas of a woman, wearing a black feathered hat and crinoline dress, nestled inside the bottom branch of a tree whose autumn leaves were just about to fall off.
“Yes, ma’am. James Jacque Joseph Tissot, titled October 1877.” He stuck his hands further in his denim pockets.
The Proverbial Mr. Universe Page 17
