by P. M. Briede
To rein in my thoughts, I tried focusing on finishing my hair. I had a couple more spots to turn into loose curls. Thank God, Paige had come by after work to zip me into my dress and help curl the back of my hair. I’d picked a plum, straight, sleeveless evening dress with an asymmetrical, gathered neckline and waist. I left my jewelry pretty simple with pearl drop earrings and pulled my hair back on one side with a pearl encrusted clip. I was contemplating changing my jewelry when the doorbell rang. I grabbed my phone and put it in my clutch before throwing on my trench and heading down the stairs.
I hit the remote on the light and grabbed my keys as I opened the door and stepped out. “Hi…” I greeted him, planning to say more but was tongue tied as I took him in. He was wearing black slacks with a green knit shirt underneath a dark, gray sports coat. His hair was a bit tousled, and he was in sans glasses. His eyes widened as he rocked back on his heels and whistled.
“Hi, yourself.” He brushed a kiss on my cheek as he reached across to close the door behind me. He took my keys and motioned to the door. “May I?” I gave him an amused smile and nodded.
After locking the door I expected him to give me my keys back. Instead, he put them in his pocket and headed towards his car. I made no move to follow. “Um, excuse me?” He stopped and turned with a quizzical expression, but said nothing. I held out my hand. “My keys, please?” With a mischievous smile, he shook his head and continued to the car, opening the passenger side door. I begrudgingly followed. “I expect to get those back before the night’s over.”
“Well, I’m sure that we can work something out.” Then he closed the door.
When he got into the car I just sat there with my hand out. He ignored me and started the engine, turning to back out of the driveway. “Are you seriously not going to give me my keys?” I asked in an exasperated tone.
His eyes locked on mine, and he chuckled. “Relax Charlotte, have some faith in me. I promise; I’ll bring you home safe with your keys and you will have a good time. You just need to trust me.” I arched an eyebrow at him but decided to let him play his game. His mood was infectious, and it sparked my curiosity for what he had planned for the evening.
We didn’t talk on the way to Brigtsen’s. Though Olivier had been playful picking me up, during the drive he seemed very guarded and tense. Rather than over think what was going on, I decided to enjoy the silence and observe the city as we drove by. It allowed me to calm my nerves and focus on the one question I wanted answered tonight. Where in my past had Olivier been?
At the restaurant, we were seated at a cozy table beside a window. Olivier insisted on taking my coat and pulling out my chair, rendering the waiter obsolete for the moment. He remained silent until Olivier ordered for us. I held my tongue while the waiter was present in order to not cause a scene. If he was going to be so presumptuous, this evening was going to be very short. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.
I propped my elbows on the table, interlaced my fingers, and rested my chin on them. “Precisely what I was just about to pose to you,” I countered with a pasted on a smile to help mask my irritation. “What are you thinking?” It was not the response he was expecting. He blinked and sat up straighter in his chair. Reaching across the table he attempted to take hold of one of my hands but I pulled them away. “You’ve hardly said two words to me since picking me up and then you have the audacity to order for both of us. I’m not sure who you’re used to going out with, but I prefer to order my own food, or at least be consulted.” The disgust dripped from my voice.
He pulled his hand back and looked genuinely abashed. “I apologize, I really do. You’re absolutely right. It’s just that…,” he was struggling for words and I started to feel sorry for him. Sighing, he looked down before continuing. “This is not how I wanted this evening to start.” His head remained bowed but he peeked up at me through those thick eyelashes, making him look like a scolded child. “I’ve been running this evening through my mind all day, desperate to make sure it’s perfect. I couldn’t believe that you agreed to this in the first place and then when I saw you, you’re just so striking. It rendered me senseless.”
As he spoke, my heart melted and I reached out to him. “Olivier, I don’t want perfect, I want real. Be the inappropriately intimate man you’ve always been with me. That’s who I agreed to go out with tonight. Not some arrogant jerk that won’t even let me order my own food. I think we’re both a little old for those kinds of games.” I smiled to take a bit of the sting out of my words before adding playfully, “Oh, and you’re pretty striking yourself, but I,” as I motioned to myself, “have managed to maintain my wits.”
One corner of his mouth curved upwards into a wry smile. “So it’s honesty that you want.” I nodded. “Well a night of honesty sounds refreshing. Truthfully, it’s what I’d hoped for, though, I haven’t forgotten your statement from the garage.”
Unsure what he was referring to, I hinted at the statement he’d made that same night. The one I couldn’t forget. “I can say the same about you.”
Before I could continue, the waiter came with the Sautéed Veal Sweetbreads, Mushrooms, and Capers. I pulled my arms back to make room for the dish and the wine. When the waiter asked if we needed anything else, Olivier stalled him. “Well Charlotte, do you dare trust me with your meal?”
Recognition dawned of what he’d been referring to and I was tickled with his choice of words. Pleased that his playful nature had returned, I nodded and recommitted myself to trusting him. He released the waiter and we became relaxed and started enjoying each other’s company. We talked about our families, travels, what took me to Idaho, what made him become a teacher. When we were talking about education, he admitted to attending LSU as well. “Is that where we met then?”
I anticipated a casual answer keeping with the tone of our conversation so far. Instead, he tensed and his eyes became veiled as he very carefully answered. “Yes. You … dated one of … my fraternity brothers briefly.”
“Oh? You were a Psi Delta?” I remained casual even though my curiosity at his discomfort was piqued.
“You remember me now then?” He couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Well, I only dated one fraternity boy in college. Sweet boy, who I regret to say I mistreated a bit. His name was Henry … Henry Montplaisir. Do you keep in touch with him?”
Something about this subject had him off balance. I couldn’t figure out why the truth about where we’d met before made him uncomfortable. “Yes, I mean no. I mean I’ve run across him from time to time at alumni events but I don’t keep in touch with him. You remember his name, all these years later?”
I shifted in my chair and focused on my dinner, embarrassed to be talking about this. Henry hadn’t been one of my shining moments. “Well yes. It’s not a common name so it stands out to me. Besides, I remember the names of everyone I’ve dated, the good and the bad. Henry, well he was a good one.”
When I peeked up at him, his guard had dropped again and the sparkle returned to his eyes. “Yet you say that you mistreated him. I cannot believe it! What could you possibly have done to this poor boy?”
Grateful for his humor, I looked back up at him. “Well believe it. It wasn’t anything torrid. We dated for a few months and I just stopped returning his calls. I was convinced by someone I thought was a friend, that he wasn’t treating me right and to go out with someone else. I was young and stupid and horrible to a really nice, decent guy.”
He seemed very puzzled by my words and he remained quiet and thoughtful for a few minutes. When he finally did speak, he was somber. “You regret this? Weren’t you happy in your marriage?”
“Oh, blissfully. I don’t necessarily regret that we stopped dating, but I do regret the way I handled it. That’s all.”
By this time we’d finished eating. “So Charlotte, are you ready for the rest of our evening?” It didn’t escape my notice that he was quickly changing the subject, which was honestly fine with me. Not your typical first
date conversation. I don’t think I’d even told my husband about Henry.
I nodded and asked him where we were going next, but he obstinately shook his head and refused to even give me a hint. So it was pleasantly surprising when we arrived at Fritzel’s. It had been my favorite jazz club in college. I can’t remember the number of times I’d dragged Wesley and Paige here with me to hear one band or another. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Know that I love this place? I haven’t been here in forever.”
His smile told me he was pleased with himself as he led me to a table. “I swear I didn’t know, Charlotte. When was the last time you were here?” I closed my eyes and tried to remember but couldn’t. However, it dawned on me of the first time I’d been here. The recognition made my eyes pop open and my jaw drop. It had been with Henry. “What is it?” His eyes thinned, as if he was examining me again. “Were you last here with your husband?” There was a wary edge to his voice.
I took a moment to focus my thoughts and stared intently into Olivier’s unguarded eyes. As I sat across from him, for the briefest second, I could have sworn that his eyes had been Henry’s. My mind had to be playing tricks on me. I’d had more than my normal two glasses of wine at dinner. I shook the image away and when I returned my gaze to his there was no trace of Henry’s ghost. “No, nothing like that. I was probably last here with Wesley or Paige.”
“But something troubled you. Won’t you tell me?” He smiled and picked up my hand bringing it to his lips. He held my gaze as he brushed a kiss across my fingers that sent lightning bolts up my arm, starting a fire deep within me. While his words and actions were inviting, there was something I couldn’t put my finger on that he was hiding. I’d insisted on honesty for the evening but I wasn’t ready to confide this in him. I watched as his confidence waned and felt his grip change.
We were both relieved when the waitress approached asking for a drink order. He ordered a glass of wine for himself and then turned to me. “What would the lady like?” I laughed and asked for water knowing that I needed to clear my head or I would be in danger of losing my wits with this confounding man.
He excused himself for a moment and I looked around the room. It was just the same as I remembered. The tables were arranged around a small dance floor. There were a few couples on it swaying to the jazz beats. I’d forgotten that they kept the room cool for the musicians and wrapped my arms around myself. With closed eyes, I took a deep breath to immerse myself in the sounds and smells. I had just started to sway to the music when two hands made their way softly down my arms from shoulders to elbows, as a body bent down behind me. “Cold?” he guessed and I nodded my answer. I leaned back into him to breathe deeply, taking in his woodsy scent. This time he tensed, not in a nervous way but in a stimulated way. When I heard his breathing deepen I turned and tilted my head to look into his face.
With smoldering eyes he placed his lips to my ear and softly challenged me. “Dare to dance with me?” Not waiting for a response, he straightened and pulled me up with him. With one of my hands in his, he led me to the dance floor. He pulled me around him until we were facing each other as his other arm snaked around my waist. I was fixed snugly in the crook of his arm. His eyes trapped mine and without even thinking I followed him as we started moving.
I was aroused by the way he handled me. Even men in my dance classes years before had never partnered me with such strength and delicacy. He directed me with his hips and his arms as he turned me about the floor never once stepping on my feet, bumping into another couple, or taking his eyes from mine. Words flitted through my mind as starts for conversation, but I was so mesmerized by the music and the heat radiating from his gaze and body, that they all melted before forming into anything sensible. When I decided to stop trying to talk, my thoughts wandered to how his body would feel against mine in much more intimate circumstances. I saw his recognition of those thoughts when his eyes widened as the flush stole through my body starting from the pit of my stomach.
Embarrassed, I broke our gaze by shifting slightly closer to him and turning my face away to rest against his chest. He placed his head gently on mine and I was fairly confident that he kissed the top. It was interesting that his heart seemed to beat in time with the music. I was safe in his arms and I didn’t feel the lonely emptiness that had haunted me since Giles’ death. Enveloped in his tender embrace, I lost track of how long we danced together until I registered the appreciative clapping of people around me.
While his arm loosened from around my waist his hand never let go of mine as he led me back to our table. With my mind still clouded from the intimacy of dancing with him, I postponed any conversation by drinking my water. I watched as he signaled the waitress to close out our ticket. “Do you mind leaving? I’d like to have you all to myself before I take you home.”
As safe and comfortable as I felt with him, I mentally agreed that I wasn’t ready to be alone with him in my home. “That sounds nice. I’m not quite ready to say good night either.” The satisfaction my words gave him lit up his face. “I assume that you have something in mind and you aren’t going to tell me.”
He laughed as he held my coat for me rubbing my arms to help counter the goose bumps that had scattered across my flesh when his arms ceased to hold me. Instead of leading me to his car as I expected, we walked the few blocks from Fritzel’s to Louis Armstrong Park. The trees were lit with Christmas lights. When coupled with the light fog that was forming the scene intensified my romantic stirrings. I pressed myself into Olivier’s side to take advantage of his radiating heat. He wrapped his arm around my back, pulling me even closer to him, and matched his gait to mine. We walked this way until he found a bench beside one of the ponds.
During our walk we’d talked about everything and nothing, picking up our conversation from dinner. However, when we sat, we did so in silence, each seeming to appreciate the comfort we found in the other. I’d been sitting with my back leaning against him as we watched other couples stroll through the park. In order to face him I tore my hands from his simultaneously soothing and stimulating caress as he stroked and traced my fingers.
“I’m glad I trusted you, Olivier. This has been a wonderful evening.” As I spoke, I realized that I wanted to be kissed by this man. There was something about him that was so familiar and calming and I wanted to know the pleasure of his lips in reality not just dreams. I tilted my head slightly and wet my lower lip in an effort to communicate my desire to him without actually saying the words or kissing him myself.
He actually pulled his head back as much as he casually could instead of leaning into my waiting lips. I could have sworn from the way he spoke to me, held me, and caressed me all evening, that when alone it would be his desire to kiss me as well. I lowered my eyes to hide my disappointment as I pulled back from him. He ensnared my arms, thus ending my escape. I did nothing to mask my confusion of his conflicting messages as I looked back at him. The curtain had once again dropped on Olivier’s countenance but I could see the inner turmoil he was struggling with.
“I think I’m ready to go home, please,” I pronounced in a mousy voice. No acknowledgement registered in his eyes but he stood and held my hand as we walked back to his car and drove to my home. The comfortable silence we’d enjoyed in the park was now replaced by a greater tension than we’d experienced on the way to dinner. He went from charming and attentive to cold and distant in the blink of an eye and I didn’t understand it.
When he pulled into the driveway I touched his arm to stop him from getting out of the car. “There’s no need for that, Olivier. If you’ll just give me my keys, I’ll see myself inside.” He turned and looked at the space between us while I spoke, but neither of us could face the other. He closed his eyes and fished the keys out of his pocket to dangle them from his fingers. I was careful not to touch him when I took them. I waited for a moment to see if he’d say anything but he remained silent, looking without seeing. So I thanked him
again and got out of the car.
I heard a curse escape just as the door closed. No longer caring to be around him, I raced as quickly as I could in heels to my front door. As I was unlocking the door, I heard my name followed by the slamming of the car door. His footsteps were quick as he raced after me. Almost through the door to the sanctuary of my home, I was suddenly pulled back outside by an iron grasp around my wrist. I steeled my courage as I was spun around.
“Charlotte, wait.” His voice was breathless and contrite.
“You owe me nothing, Olivier. The date is over and I’m not expecting anything more…”
“You don’t understand. You should expect more. I want to give you more. You deserve so much more than what I have to offer.”
I felt the tears start to build and my voice wasn’t steady when I spoke. “Enough! I don’t need any explanations; I’m smart enough to see all the pitfalls. I enjoyed your company tonight and I know you enjoyed mine but you work for me and that never seems to wor…”
He cut me off and growled, “Im iam damnari,” under his breath before silencing us both by crushing his lips to mine. A familiar burn instantly tore through me, stealing my breath as it singed my skin. I opened my mouth to gasp. He seized the opportunity to invade it, his tongue lapping at mine hungrily. My knees buckled and I arched into him, gripping his neck with hands I didn’t even know had wrapped around him. His arms supported me as his hands roved and caressed my back, waist, hips, and neck, restless in their search.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he stopped just as suddenly as he had begun. My eyes remained closed as I tried to compose myself. Remembering what he’d said before the kiss, I asked, “Why?”
