by Anna Premoli
“Oh, no, he was adorable!” she said sarcastically. “God, every time I happen to meet men like him I become more convinced I’ll die a spinster.”
“Being with the right person shouldn’t be hard. It should be the most natural thing in the world. You shouldn’t need to make any effort, if you know what I mean…”
After they had crossed the intersection, they stopped in front of a modern building. “Yes, I think I know exactly what you mean,” said Amalia, and she smiled, taking a very heavy set of keys out of her bag. “Et voilà! Here we are,” she announced. The atmosphere immediately became more tense. She looked at him for a few moments, undecided as to whether she should make the first move or not. She didn’t want any more regrets, she thought – she wanted to do what she felt like for once, and who cared if it wasn’t the wisest thing ever.
“Do you want to come up?” she asked.
Ryan couldn’t stop staring at her, but he didn’t give away how he was feeling.
“I think I’ve already made enough bad decisions for one day,” he confided.
Amalia didn’t want to give up that easily, though. He might have suddenly regained the ability to think logically, but that wasn’t her problem. Her actions hadn’t been guided by common sense or reason for a very long time now.
“Are you scared?” she asked, trying to tease him by moving closer.
“I was fooling myself into thinking I was being smart.”
“As smart as when you burst into that bar restroom not so long ago?” she asked slyly.
“Yes, exactly – and if we’re on the subject of errors, that’s the first that comes to mind…” Ryan said, trying to play down what had just happened.
Amalia dangled her keys in front of his nose. “It’s just an apartment, you know. And guess what, unlike you, I even own lots of furniture.”
But he still seemed to have no intention whatsoever of moving a muscle.
“You know, it’s still quite cold at night at this time of the year,” she pointed out. “Can you imagine? I have heating in my apartment! Doesn’t the idea of that make you want to take a step towards the door?”
He caressed her cold cheek.
“I’m about to lose all my willpower,” he warned her. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t be so sure that I’d want to take such a leap in the dark.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that! I forgot to mention: I actually have lights – and we can turn them on!” she replied, not feeling worried at all.
“Amalia…” Ryan sighed, moving his lips closer to hers.
But before he could kiss her, she grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door.
“Where are these old-style men they all talk about, I wonder,” she mumbled. “We women always have to do everything ourselves nowadays. What’s wrong with men lately?”
She inserted the key into the lock using her free hand and showed him the way. He just followed her without saying a word.
“We do have a lift, but it’s only two floors – I guess a little exercise won’t kill us, right?”
As she climbed the stairs, she began to feel more and more tense. She’d been so calm and determined a moment before… now she was starting to realize what she’d actually done. She tried not to overthink it, though, and opened her heavy front door, switched the alarm off and turned on the lights.
“Home, sweet home,” she said as she led him to the sitting room. Ryan took a moment to look around the place: there was a huge white corner sofa, a glass coffee table and apparently thousands of paintings hanging from the walls.
“Exactly like my place,” he joked. “Have you ever dared eat anything on that sofa?”
“You must be kidding – the interior designer would kill me if I even thought of doing anything like that! Apparently the covering is made of some special fabric that’s handwoven by virgin weavers or something… and there’s no way to wash it without ruining it… If you commit that type of profanaty, you can be decapitated by law, apparently.” She smiled at him seductively. “But I have a beautiful dining table.”
“Is it solid?” Ryan asked.
“Well it looks very solid. And it’s big,” she said provocatively. At that point, he took off his jacket and threw it on the sofa.
“So are you going to show me this table?” he asked.
Amalia didn’t wait for him to ask again. She took off her jacket, hat and gloves and headed towards her over-accessorized kitchen.
“Nice,” he commented, looking impressed. “Tell me, how many of these tools and objects do you actually know how to use?”
Amalia decided to tell the truth. “Only one: the coffee maker.”
Ryan laughed. “And I’m guessing that it uses coffee pods…”
Whatever he said suddenly sounded irresistible.
“Of course, but you need to fill its water tank every now and then,” she pointed out.
“Well how about that, who would’ve guessed it. And this must be the famous table…” Ryan said with glittering eyes while observing the imposing table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Doesn’t it look solid to you?”
She didn’t know how she was even able to answer him, given the tempest that was taking place inside her. Her heartbeat had violently and suddenly accelerated as soon as they entered the kitchen.
Ryan moved closer and touched her gently.
“I’m not sure, I think we should test it first before we make a snap judgement.”
And so saying, he lifted her easily up onto it, letting her sit on the table’s edge. She felt as though she was going to melt under the heat of his gaze, but somehow she managed to stay strong and grab him with her legs, smiling maliciously.
“Do you still think it’s solid?” she asked him while he caressed her leg, partially lifting her dress. She was wearing stockings, but she could clearly feel his touch anyway.
“Yes, for now. But let’s see if it can resist me doing this.” And he immediately caught her mouth in a determined kiss, whilst trapping her face between his hands. Amalia let herself go, grasping his wrist in one hand and pulling his shirt out of his trousers with the other. When she managed to touch his naked back, Ryan emitted a sort of guttural noise and increased – if that was actually possible – the pressure of his lips against hers. But Amalia started feeling frenzied, and pulled back for a moment.
“Can you take your sweater off?” she asked him, and he obeyed immediately, pulling his sweater over his head in one movement. Then he watched her almost as though hypnotized as she unbuttoned his shirt until she could caress his shoulders. Looking at his naked chest, she couldn’t help but just breathe deeply for a few seconds.
“You’re lucky that I had time to go to a gym when I was in Chicago,” he told her, while Amalia continued caressing his skin.
“And you’re lucky I’m a yoga queen nowadays,” she laughed, while he pushed her dress up higher and higher.
“We’d better see just how limber you are as soon as possible, then.”
When he reached the edge of her stockings, he lifted her up just enough take them off. “Your dress is gorgeous, but I think it’s too hot in here to be wearing so much wool.”
“Well, I hadn’t actually noticed, but now that you mention it…” Amalia slipped her dress off easily, remaining in her bra and panties.
It was his turn to be breathless now.
“Nice,” was all he could say, as his mouth went completely dry.
“Isn’t it? I think spending money on beautiful lingerie is always worth it.”
Ryan started kissing her neck, then moved to her shoulders, then went back to her neck.
“Amalia, I’m not amazed by your lingerie – I’m amazed by what’s underneath it…” he whispered in her ear.
She drew her tongue across his entire chest, focusing for a few moments on every inch of his skin. Ryan was about to pass out, especially when she reached down and took hold of his belt. He loved being with a woman who knew what she wanted.
He let her struggle with it and with the zipper of his trousers while he freed her from her bra.
“Ryan, you’re not helping, you know,” she told him, panting.
“I’m trying to determine how well you can concentrate when you’re stressed,” he laughed sexily. Then he paused. “Do you want to slow down?” he asked, looking into her lovely blue eyes which were now glazed over with desire she was making no attempt to hide.
“Have you lost your mind?” she asked, sounding almost annoyed, and then she pulled down his zipper, leaving him in just his underwear.
He was wearing boxer shorts. “I don’t know why, but I was sure you’d wear briefs…” she teased him, as she pulled playfully at their elasticated waistband.
“I usually do, I’m not sure why I wore these today.”
He caught her lips again and resumed exploring her body with his hands.
“Ryan, there’s a bedroom here too, you know, if you want to see it…” she pointed out a few minutes later, while he was kneeling down to let his lips caress her legs.
“Do you want to go to bed, Amalia?” he asked in a low voice, staring at her and without taking his lips completely off her skin.
“Right now there’s only one thing I want – and preferably soon.”
Ryan had never seen anything sexier in whole his life.
“So do you think this table is solid enough?” he asked for the last time.
“Ryan, if it breaks, I’ll buy another one.”
And so saying, she pulled him towards her.
The table turned out to be much more solid that they’d imagined, and Amalia decided to send a note to the interior designer thanking her for her great choice. Money very well spent.
But Ryan insisted on seeing the rest of the apartment and testing the bed too, about which he was enthusiastic, and the shower, which of course in an apartment like this just had to be a double one with a jacuzzi. She had never turned the jacuzzi on before, but that day Amalia discovered some innovative and genuinely surprising ways of using it. At about four o’clock in the morning, they decided it was probably time they got some sleep.
Even though she was totally exhausted, Amalia managed to wake up around eight to find herself totally inebriated by the male odour she could smell everywhere. She woke Ryan up with kisses, starting at his finger tips and working her way upwards. She stopped halfway, giving Ryan what he said was the best awakening of his life. After two hours they were still in bed, trying to catch their breath.
“I’m too old for this kind of thing,” Ryan confided, while gently kissing her lips.
Amalia caressed his hair. “I’d say you have nothing to complain about, actually.”
“Do I look like a man who complains about anything?”
She observed him carefully. “You look completely different from usual. I’ve never seen you looking so relaxed, for a start,” she admitted.
“And you look wonderful when you’ve just woken up.” He brushed a rebellious lock of hair from her eyes.
“I learned a long time ago never to trust compliments that come after a large number of orgasms.”
Ryan burst out laughing.
“Well nobody’s ever going to accuse you of not speaking your mind!” he chuckled. “That just helped cheer me up – but your beauty is a fact, and I’ve always thought that.”
Amalia tried not to give much importance to his words.
“Who knows what else you think and, wisely, decide not to tell me.”
Ryan grabbed her by her waist and pulled her towards him.
“Is it time for the big talk already?” he asked her.
“We have to have it eventually – let’s just try not to make it too long.”
He caressed her nose and chin, then put his hand on her cheek. “I’m afraid that anything I might say now will end up being used against me.”
“Yeah, I get it. It’s part of being a lawyer, I guess. But I’ll try not to jump to any conclusions, I promise. So, Ryan, tell me: what do you really think?” she asked. She was trying to remain calm, in part because she already had an idea of what she was about to hear. He, in his own way, had warned her many times while they had continued to chase after each other and to bicker. She knew about the consequences of a mis-step like that, but she had decided not to care. Amalia resolved to take whatever he said as calmly and philosophically as possible.
“Look, you know perfectly well that this was a one-off. There’s this…attraction between us and we just couldn’t control it. I can’t deny that it was a pleasant evening, but I just can’t imagine a future for us. Do you agree?” He asked, feeling a little embarrassed.
Amalia nodded unwillingly. What Ryan was saying was totally reasonable and logical, and she had never been inclined to follow impossible dreams. In Ryan’s case, moreover, she had already lost some self-respect – and if nothing positive was going to come out of the situation, she at least wanted to keep what was left of it. She took a deep breath.
“Yes, you’re right,” she confirmed, standing up from the bed to get dressed. She decided it was better to just start behaving as if nothing had happened. She pretended to check the time. “God, it’s already late!” she said in a voice which didn’t convince even her.
Ryan understood immediately that she was asking him to leave. He fetched his clothes and started dressing silently. In the meantime, Amalia went to make herself a coffee – a double.
After a few minutes, he found her in the kitchen, holding her cup pensively.
“You should really have something to eat, you know,” he said. “Strong black coffee will ruin your stomach.”
Amalia snorted. She wasn’t really in the mood to accept any preaching from him.
“Do you want some?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t heard.
He moved closer to her, took the cup she was holding and drank the remaining coffee.
“You’re a very stubborn woman.”
“Oh well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Luckily for you, it’s not your problem, is it?” she couldn’t stop herself from saying, in a tone that was starting to turn nasty. She had to get rid of him before she ended up making a total fool of herself. Before she started begging – or worse. But he was standing close to her.
Too close.
She moved away with the excuse of putting her cup in the sink.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer,” she said, drying her hands and trying very hard to avoid his eyes.
“You’re not mad at me, right?” Ryan asked her, keeping his distance.
“Absolutely not,” she lied, in reality she was extremely angry. In fact, she was furious! She had let herself believe that the realities of the situation were irrelevant in the face of the complicity they shared. Or that she had shared – alone. And now she knew how it could be between them. Well, curiosity killed the cat, as they say.
“Amalia…” he said.
But at that point, she snapped.
“Are you going to leave?” she asked roughly, leaning on the same table where the night before he had undressed and kissed her in a way nobody ever had before.
Ryan raised his arms in a gesture of surrender.
“Ok,” he said, “whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want…” she replied sarcastically.
He left the kitchen, fetched his jacket from the sofa and got ready to walk out.
“Bye,” he said, before leaving the apartment.
Amalia waited until she heard his footsteps go down the stairs and the front door open and then slam shut – and only then did she feel free to say what she’d been really thinking all along.
“Go to hell, Ryan!”
*
Amalia wasn’t really in the mood to meet her grandmother for lunch that day, but she needed to concentrate on something that would take her mind off Ryan, so she decided to go anyway. Luckily, her parents were not there – she couldn’t have dealt with them on top of everything else – but seeing her grandmothe
r would only do her good. She took a second shower, trying to wash all of Ryan’s odour from her skin, then she got dressed very carefully, choosing the most expensive clothes she possessed, including a cashmere coat her mother had bought for her and which was worth a lot of money. She looked at herself in the mirror for quite some time before finally deciding to call a taxi. She was satisfied that she had obtained that aura of effortless superiority which Ryan had so often accused her of having.
It took only about two seconds for her grandmother to understand that the situation was serious.
“Lovely coat,” she said, as she watched her take her seat at the table in the French restaurant where they had agreed to meet.
“Isn’t it? I thought it was a good day to finally wear it,” Amalia answered.
“Is it a special occasion?” Jackie asked, intrigued.
“Of course – we’re having lunch together, aren’t we?”
Her grandmother didn’t buy it for a second.
“Are you having problems with your parents?” she asked abruptly.
A tense Amalia opened the menu.
“Not really. No more than usual anyway. Do you know if they’re still alive?”
“It would appear that they are. I mean, I’m sure we would have heard if anything had happened to them. They’re worth a fortune, you know…”
“Yes, I guess so,” her granddaughter agreed.
Jackie lifted her eyes and observed Amalia for a few moments.
“Are you still suffering because of them?” she asked suddenly. They hadn’t talked about it for years and they usually did their best to avoid the subject.
Amalia was taken aback.
“Grandma, you don’t need to worry about me. Nothing’s happened with Mum and Dad. It’s all just as boring as usual between us. What I mean is, it’s not them who are the problem at the moment.”
“So you do have a problem…” Jackie concluded.
