by Holly Rayner
As Eva’s inner battle subsided, a cab pulled up to the curb. Filipe opened the door for her, and she thanked him and slipped inside.
Rather than making her move over, Filipe shut the door and crossed to the other side of the cab. Eva took note. No one had ever done that for her before—not even on a date. He was charming beyond her wildest imagination, and it just kept coming.
The cab began to pull away from the sidewalk. Eva caught a glimpse of Calvin, coming back for another smoke break. He noticed her through the taxi window, smiled an all-knowing smile, and gave her the thumbs up. She waved.
“Who was that?” Filipe asked as they drove off.
“Just a friend,” Eva said lightly.
Filipe nodded.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him.”
“It’s no big deal,” Eva said. “We haven’t known each other that long.”
He moved closer and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He began kissing her neck, and Eva suddenly felt uncomfortable. There were red warning lights going off in her head.
The action, the kissing, came from a place of lust, not a place of charm. The idea made her feel completely sober. It wasn’t the first time a man had treated her this way—and the last time, it hadn’t ended well. Was she making a mistake?
She wasn’t ready for something like this. She wasn’t a virgin, but she wanted to take it slow. She didn’t even know if she wanted the same thing Filipe wanted. The idea of going back to his hotel room was exciting, but she wasn’t a woman who believed everything was about sex.
Besides, she’d be far more likely to sleep with someone if she didn’t feel pressure from the minute they stepped into a cab. Had she gotten swept up in the moment?
Sure, Filipe was attractive. He made her feel things she either hadn’t felt before or hadn’t felt in a very long time. But she wasn’t going to hop into bed with him. She hoped he hadn’t made that assumption. Eva suddenly felt very stupid. Why else would he invite her back to his hotel room? She braced herself. This wasn’t going to be an easy one to shoot down. He was probably going to kick her out of the cab.
“I should tell you something before we get there,” Eva said, pulling away from his grip. He took his arm back in response.
“Sure. What’s wrong?”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself as much as possible.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight. I haven’t decided yet. And I don’t want to be pushed. So, if this is some only kind of hookup, I don’t want it.”
Filipe looked at Eva as though seeing her for the first time.
“I’ve never been told that before,” he said. “But I respect your honesty.”
If you only knew...
“I don’t want to rush into something I’m going to regret,” she said. “That’s all. I’m not saying yes or no. I just don’t want to be treated like a piece of meat. I don’t want to get there and feel like there’s nothing left to do but take my clothes off. I hope you understand.”
She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was talking to the window, too ashamed to face him.
Eva felt a hand caress her cheek. She turned to look at her mystery man again. He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Have I upset you?” Filipe asked.
“No,” Eva said.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
She hesitated. Of course there were things she wanted to tell him. Plenty of things. His intense green eyes practically pulled information from her. If she looked at them for too long, everything would come pouring out.
But it was too soon to share her personal details. She needed to know she could trust him. She shook her head.
Filipe looked disappointed. Eva couldn’t stand it.
“Maybe later,” she said. “If you care enough, and we talk enough, maybe I’ll tell you. Is that okay?”
Filipe nodded. Eva felt both relieved and nervous. She wouldn’t have to worry about sex. Not right away, at least. But she would feel obligated to share pieces of her past that she’d rather leave settled for good.
At least he doesn’t know who you are.
She tried to take comfort in that, but it wasn’t really helping anymore. The more they talked, the more he would learn. Eventually, there would be no secrets between them (other than the small matter of her occupation). He might as well know the truth.
But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.
They arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes later. Filipe overpaid the cab driver, opened her door for her, and led her inside. It was amazing. There were pieces of stonework in the lobby. They surrounded a large, marble water fountain that exposed hundreds of pennies, nickels, and quarters that had been wished on and abandoned by traveling guests.
Eva had been here before. She remembered the hotel from her childhood. Every once in a while, her parents would stay in the city for one important conference or another. Eva would ask why, and their answer would always be the same: the commute was too long for days like this.
Looking back, Eva realized her parents were overly concerned with status. It cost them more than a pretty penny. It cost them a child. As she looked around the ornate lobby of the hotel her parents chose for convenience, she wondered if they would ever regret it.
She knew she did. She didn’t regret leaving them, but she did regret the twenty-four years she’d spent attempting to live up to their expectations. Maybe Filipe had been raised better than that. Maybe she would have walked away if she knew he was just a barista at a coffee shop, but that didn’t mean he would.
“Are you all right?” Filipe asked as Eva stared.
“Yeah,” she said, snapping back to reality. “Sorry, I just forgot how intricate the lobby is.”
“You’ve been here before?”
Eva felt her stomach sink horribly.
“Sure,” she said, digging herself into a deeper hole. “I haven’t always lived in the city. I used to stay here when I was a kid. My parents liked it.”
“What do your parents do?”
Eva looked down at the floor.
“They were lawyers,” she replied. “But I don’t know what they do anymore. I haven’t spoken to them in months.”
It was easier to be honest about the little things, she decided. That way, she could keep her story straight.
Once again, Filipe looked concerned. He took her hand and they began walking toward the nearest elevator. He pushed the service button, then turned his attention back to her.
“I’m sorry you aren’t on good terms with your parents.”
“I’m just blabbering,” Eva said. “I’m not usually like this, you know.”
“I believe it.”
The elevator arrived. They stepped inside. Filipe pushed the button for the top floor.
“Well,” he said. “If you’ve been here before, you know what to expect.”
“I’ve never been that high,” Eva admitted. “My parents always stayed on the lower floors.”
“They missed the view,” Filipe said. “If I didn’t live here, I’d want to see it every chance I could.”
“My parents don’t care much for views.” Eva shrugged. “They care more about the bottom line. And status. How’s that for ironic? My parents would stay in the nicest hotel in the city, but they wouldn’t take advantage of the view or the breakfast or anything. They just wanted to say they stayed here.”
“You see yourself as more practical?” Filipe asked as the elevator doors opened. They began to walk down the hallway, which was decorated tastefully with modern art and plush, dark green carpet.
“I see myself as more centered,” Eva said. “If I’m going to stay in the nicest hotel in the city, I’m going for the view. Otherwise, I’m happy with a motel in Jersey City. I don’t mind the commute.”
“You’d be safer in a Manhattan hotel,” Filipe pointed out. Eva disagreed.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t ever feel safe in Manhattan. Af
ter everything that’s happened here, I’m constantly watching my back. I would hate to wake up and find out the entire island has been closed off. I’d rather be late to my conference, or miss it altogether, than be involved in something like that.”
“I don’t understand, though,” Filipe said. “If you don’t feel safe in the city, why do you live here?”
Eva’s heart nearly stopped. She fumbled for an answer.
“It would be cheaper to live in Brooklyn or Jersey City if you don’t mind the commute to work,” he pointed out. “Why constantly feel on edge?”
“My roommate,” Eva said. “Because she’s going to grad school at Columbia, it would be a terrible commute for her. She insisted on the apartment downtown. We fought over it for a few months, but ultimately, I preferred having a roommate and she wasn’t budging. We’re best friends. I can’t imagine not living with her.”
“That makes sense,” Filipe said. “I hope, once she graduates, she’ll reconsider. Especially if you feel this way.”
“You and me both,” Eva said, relieved that the subject was being dropped.
They stopped at the last room. Filipe pulled out a keycard, swiped it, and opened the door.
As they stepped inside, he turned on several lights. The room lit up.
“Wow,” Eva said. “I guess I forgot how nice the rooms were.”
“Maybe your parents were paying for quality,” Filipe said.
Eva shrugged. She was too busy taking everything in. The room had the general fixings of any hotel suite, including two nightstands, a reading chair, an entertainment center, and a writing desk. But these fixings were made from deep, rich wood. In fact, they were almost craftsman-like in their style. She could never afford the same furniture for her apartment—and that wasn’t true of most hotel room pieces.
There was a king-sized bed on one side of the room. The bedding was gold, white, detailed, and elegant. A large HD television sat on the opposite wall. The room also had a vaulted ceiling and a chandelier.
“The perks of staying on the top floor,” Filipe said, noticing the way her eyes traveled upward.
“I guess so,” Eva said.
But something didn’t seem right, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The room was incredible, of course. But something was missing.
Didn’t he say he was a businessman?
It clicked. There wasn’t anything business-related in the room. No laptop, no suitcase. In fact, the only thing in the room that seemed to belong to Filipe was a rack of designer suits in the corner.
Aren’t those a little fancy for the boardroom?
Eva shrugged off the paranoia. Even if Filipe wasn’t a businessman, she certainly wasn’t being honest either. She decided not to say anything. There was nothing in the room to suggest he intended on harming her, and that was all she really cared about. If he chose to tell her the truth, Eva decided she would do the same.
Chapter Five
“You should check out the balcony next,” Filipe said, interrupting Eva’s thoughts.
She slipped off her shoes and walked toward the double doors across the room. She pushed them both open at once, and was met with the most stunning view of the city she’d ever seen. Even the view from Oasis came second.
The balcony offered at least twenty square feet of viewing space. In Manhattan, that was saying something. It was enough room to fit two chairs comfortably, and it did. Eva took a seat. She didn’t care if Filipe followed. She didn’t care if he was lying. She was absorbed in her own world.
He didn’t follow, either. It was several minutes before Eva heard from Filipe. She figured he was getting comfortable. When she saw him again, he was standing by the open doors without a suit jacket or tie. The light wind was ruffling his hair. She realized that she wanted a photo of this moment, recognizing she may never experience anything this picture perfect again.
“Are you all right?” Filipe asked, speaking softly.
He stepped onto the balcony. He had removed his dress shoes, and Eva noticed that his feet were covered by two simple black socks. It struck her as human. Underneath the fancy exterior, the man wore normal socks. The revelation made her want to kiss him.
“I’m okay,” she said, looking back at the view. “I can’t believe my parents never wanted to see this.”
“Some people don’t appreciate true beauty,” Filipe said. When she turned to him, he was looking at her with a kind of longing. She knew he wasn’t talking about the view.
“I guess not,” Eva whispered.
Filipe kneeled down to where she sat, wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, and kissed her passionately. It was several seconds before she pulled away, and even then, her heart wasn’t in it. She could have let him kiss her forever. But she knew it wouldn’t be right.
“What’s wrong?” Filipe asked. “Was that too much?”
Eva shook her head.
“Believe me,” she said, “I would love to do that again. But I don’t know anything about you. Can we talk first?”
Filipe pulled the other chair over and sat down.
“Eva,” he said. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank y—”
“But,” Filipe interrupted. “I think there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
Eva felt her heart jump into her throat.
“What do you mean?”
“I can sit on this balcony all night long and talk, if that’s really what you want,” he said. “But I don’t feel like you wanted to stop. There’s something compelling you to stop. And I’d like to know what that is.”
“Why?” Eva said, trying to lighten the mood by being playful. “You think that because I stopped kissing you, something must be wrong with me? I think that head of yours might be a little too big.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said, matching her smile. “It’s just that, in the cab, you implied that something from your past is making you uncomfortable. I want to understand. Maybe I can help.”
Eva looked down at the balcony floor and sighed.
“You’re a very handsome man,” she said. “But you aren’t the first handsome man. And the last one wasn’t quite as nice.”
“A boyfriend?”
Eva shook her head.
“No,” she said. “The only boyfriend I’ve ever had was in my senior year of high school. I was young and stupid. I just wanted someone to bring home to my parents.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No,” Eva said. “I broke up with him. I didn’t feel anything. And I don’t see why I should have. He was a soon-to-be law student. My parents were head-over-heels for him. Me? Not so much. He was pompous and condescending. It wasn’t worth it.”
“Then, who hurt you?”
“Someone very much like you,” Eva said. “I was twenty-two. I had just gotten through my second year of undergrad. I’ve never been into bars or clubs. I shouldn’t have even been at Oasis tonight. But, back then, I didn’t have many friends. One of my classmates asked me to drop by a party in Greenwich Village. I couldn’t say no.”
She felt the tears begin to rise in her throat, but she pushed them back down.
You aren’t going to cry. Wall Street women don’t cry.
“While I was there, this senior bought me a drink,” she said. “I recognized him from a couple of my classes. I agreed to leave with him. I wasn’t exactly sober. I was young and naive. I figured we would talk for a while and maybe something would happen. I thought I still had a choice. But he wasn’t a gentleman, and he knew what he wanted. When we got to his apartment, I realized that I was being used. The polite conversation was over. He wasn’t going to wait.”
“What did you do?” Filipe asked.
“I said no. He called me a liar and a lot of other things. He told me I was worthless. At the end of it all, he said I had two minutes to get out or he’d lose his temper. I had no idea what that meant, and I didn’t stick around to find out. Afterward, he told everyone on campus that I was e
asy and lousy in bed.”
“That must have been awful,” Filipe said.
“It was,” Eva said. “I never told anyone about it. I figured lots of women go through worse things. At least he didn’t get what he wanted. No one came near me after that. At least, no one who went to Columbia.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“I’m just sensitive when it comes to being used,” she said. “Some girls don’t mind. Some even like it. But the second I feel like I’m in the middle of a one-time hookup, everything is ruined.”
“You need passion,” Filipe said. “You need to feel something.”
“Exactly,” Eva agreed. “You understand.”
“I know what it’s like to be used,” he said, looking up at the stars.
“I told you my story,” she said. “Your turn.”
Filipe shook his head.
“It’s a story for another day,” he said. “Nothing you want to hear.”
“Try me.”
“I really can’t,” Filipe said firmly.
Eva decided not to argue with him.
It was quiet for a few minutes after that. Neither seemed to know what to say. She wondered how long they would sit there, completely silent, until someone broke.
“Do you ever second guess what you’ve been doing with your life?” Filipe finally asked.
Eva jumped. She hadn’t expected him to talk first.
“All the time,” she replied. “Every single day.”
“It makes it hard to focus,” Filipe said. “Work seems more difficult. The world turns slower. I’m in the middle of a transition period in my life. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next.”
“Big career change?” Eva guessed.
“Not quite,” Filipe hedged. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Do I get to hear about it?”
Filipe shook his head.
“Do I get to hear about your questionable life decisions?”
Eva smiled halfheartedly.
“I’m sick of my job,” she said. “It’s not fulfilling. I don’t get to help anyone. I don’t feel happy, you know? I’ve spent my whole life trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be. I’m not sure what I want to be anymore. It feels like I’ve taken control of the car and I have no idea how to drive.”
