Been Searching For You

by Nicole Evelina

  He turned on a hundred-watt grin as he perched on the corner of his desk. “Not yet, but it’s got great potential. It needs some polishing, but you’re certainly talented enough to make a career out of this if that’s what you decide you want to do.”

  I glanced at him, still afraid he was going to tell me he was just joking. “Thank you. I—that’s a lot to take in.”

  He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a business card. “Here. This is the name of a professor here who does editorial work on the side. If you decide you want to take the next step, give her a call. I think you’ll like her.”

  We talked for the next hour about what he particularly liked, what he thought could be improved, and I told him the rest of the plot. He had some great insights on things that didn’t fit and ideas for things that could tie some of the main points together. In the end, I promised him he could read the whole thing once I’d taken another pass through it. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to see it before or after I talked to his editor friend.

  I’d stayed up past midnight that night, scratching down ideas and marking up a printout of my manuscript. Now that I was thinking about it, a flood of new ideas came to me. Back into my bag went the book, and out came my manuscript. I rearranged the table so I could make the story bleed with my red pen while I ate. When I wasn’t chewing on my salad, I was chewing on the cap of my pen, working through a particularly rough plot point in my head and on the back of the previous page.

  Eventually, I had to stop. I was full, and my fingers were greasy from the crackers, which I’d kept eating alongside my salad. I grabbed my purse and went inside to wash my hands. When I returned to my seat, a decadent chocolate ganache-filled cake topped with raspberries waited for me along with a glass of sparkling wine.

  I stopped the waiter when he approached. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order this.”

  “A gentleman asked that it be delivered to your table.”

  I looked around but saw no one. “Who?”

  He searched the surrounding sidewalks in vain. “I don’t know, ma’am. He was just here.”

  Slightly unnerved, I moved the dessert aside and flipped the page on my manuscript, intending to continue my work. It took me a moment to realize there was a note tucked between the pages.

  I was having lunch across the street and couldn’t help but notice you. You are more beautiful today than I’ve ever seen you. You must be meant to be a writer. You put the sun to shame when you are working, and there is nothing sexier than a woman doing what she’s passionate about. I couldn’t let another day go by without asking you what I’ve been wanting to say since the night we first met.

  (Read this part to the tune of “Out Tonight” from Rent.)

  Will you go out with me tonight?

  I want to be by your side in the moonlight

  Can’t you see the stars in my eyes?

  Well, say yes and we’ll dispense with the excuses and lies.

  Come with me for a surprise.

  Alex

  I let out a little whimper, covering my mouth with my hand. He had adapted Mimi’s plea to Roger to ask me out. I thought things like this only happened in movies. I looked around, searching for some sign of him, hoping he could see the tears of joy he had brought to my eyes.

  My phone chimed with a text message.

  Look up, first balcony.

  Alex was there, across the street, standing at the wrought-iron railing on the second floor, with a huge grin on his face. He waved.

  I waved back tentatively. Then, emboldened by his gesture, I tossed some money on the table to cover my bill and scurried across the street to stand below the balcony, gazing up at him.

  “Is that a yes?” he called down.

  “Yes!”

  If I’d thought I was nervous before my first date with Victor, it was nothing compared to how I felt that night—at least until Alex showed up on my doorstep with an armful of blue hydrangeas.

  I was so surprised to see him holding my favorite flower that, for a moment, I couldn’t move or speak. As I searched my vacant mind for some words, he simply watched me, drinking me in as though he was appreciative of the extra moments to admire me.

  “I—how did you know?” I asked when I finally recovered use of my voice and the synapses in my brain started firing again.

  “You told me, remember?” He stepped past me into my living room, his head turned to keep eye contact with me. “That first night in my office, back in July, when we were still planning the year. When you teased me for not having a nickname? You told me you and your dad used to grow them. I thought it might be a nice way to show you that despite our rocky start, I really am a good guy.”

  I stroked his cheek, running my hand across the stubble that so resembled a freshly harvested field. “I already knew you were a good guy.” I took the flowers and spun away toward the kitchen before he could catch me up in his arms. “But I appreciate the gesture all the same.” I grabbed a vase from the cabinet under the sink and turned on the tap. “So where are we going tonight?”

  Alex perched on the arm of the loveseat while I arranged the flowers. He raised his voice over the water. “Well, anyone can take a girl to dinner or a movie, so I thought we’d do something a little different, something quintessentially Chicago.”

  I peeked out from behind the spray of azure blooms. “You’ve certainly piqued my interest. Is my outfit okay?”

  We both looked down at my flouncy white tank, capris, and jeweled sandals.

  “Actually,” he said, “it couldn’t be more perfect if you tried. You’ll see.”

  Our cab smelled like curry and stale tobacco, but I didn’t care. I sank down next to Alex in the grimy leather seat, leaning my head on his chest with a casual air that shocked me yet felt perfectly natural. Maybe all the time we’d spent working together had broken the ice that usually stretches between strangers on a first date. Whatever it was, I was grateful to be at ease already.

  He must have felt the same way because as we sat in the warm car amid bumper-to-bumper Friday-night traffic fighting our way down East Illinois, the radio chattering away in a language I couldn’t understand, he twined his hand in mine and sighed contentedly. When I tilted my head back to look at him, his temple was resting on the doorframe. He looked as relaxed as a cat in the sun.

  I must have drifted off because I started when the taxi came to a halt outside the tall red gates of Navy Pier.

  “Have a nice nap?’ Alex teased after he’d paid the cabbie and we’d gotten out of the car. He pulled me to him with one arm around my neck in a sexy “she’s mine, I’ve claimed her” kind of way.

  “Mmmm… hey, at least you know I’ll be alert the rest of the evening.”

  “No worries, I dozed off too. I blame the heat and the curry.”

  I laughed. “What now?”

  “Now we wander.”

  We ambled down the boardwalk, chatting idly and making snarky comments about the tourists.

  “I’m guessing they’re from Michigan,” I said, discreetly pointing at a family stirring up a ruckus as their unruly toddler screamed for cotton candy. The father, who resembled a lumberjack, was fishing in his wallet for cash while his wife tried in vain to silence the child and mask her desire to beat him into submission.

  “No fair,” Alex protested. “One hint of their accent and the game was over. What about them?” He indicated an older couple in nearly matching track suits and straw hats.

  “Florida. Gotta be.”

  “Nope, not tan enough. I say New Jersey.”

  “I dunno. Wouldn’t they be tanned too?”

  “Nah, that’s only the young ones with reality TV shows.” Alex stopped at an old-fashioned photo booth complete with ratty black cloth to block out the light. “We have to have a souvenir of our first date, right?”

  We piled inside, me on Alex’s lap and my arms around him, to make faces and bunny ears in the first two pictures then grin like teenaged idiots in the th
ird. Just before the camera was due to flash for the last time, Alex kissed me, a gentle, reassuring gesture of his affection. He was warm, his lips soft, but his arms around me were strong, just as I’d always dreamed. Though our kiss lacked the overt passion of a romance novel, there was something to it, a connection and innate understanding that I’d never felt with anyone else—not Victor, not even Nick. Far too soon, the flash lit the space behind my eyelids, and we pulled apart, foreheads touching for just a moment longer.

  Out on the noisy pier again, Alex handed me the ribbon of images, and I held them to my heart. “I will treasure these always.”

  “You’d better. I don’t go around kissing girls in front of cameras every day.”

  “You don’t? That’s not what I hear…”

  He pressed me against his chest so that I had to stop talking. I breathed in the spicy, sharp scent of his cologne, perfectly content to stay right there for the rest of the evening.

  “Come on, Miss Smarty-pants.” He released me except for looping one finger in my back pocket.

  We passed the Ferris wheel with its long queue of tourists and decided it wasn’t worth standing in line since we’d both been up in it multiple times.

  When we reached the mini golf course, Alex threw me a daring look, one eyebrow cocked. “You game?”

  “Bring it on.”

  But my bravado didn’t translate into mad skills as I’d hoped. After three holes at least two strokes over par, I finally admitted my weakness. “I have no hand-eye coordination.”

  “Nah, you just don’t know your own strength. This isn’t the PGA. You have to tap the ball gently.” He came around behind me. “Here, I’ll teach you.” He bent over, his body folding around me so his arms and hands covered mine. “So, stance is the first key. Bend your knees just a little.”

  I did, fighting the urge to melt against him while my heart skipped beats in reaction to his nearness.

  “Not that much. There you go. Now swing back just a little and tap the ball.” He held on as I did so, controlling my speed with a gentle squeeze to slow me down. He was still holding me when the blue ball stopped just short of the hole. “See?”

  “Sure,” I said over my shoulder as I moved out of the way so he could take his turn. “It’s easy with you guiding me, but what about—”

  Something solid connected with my foot, then I was sprawling forward in slow motion. I’m falling. Don’t let me fall in front of him, was all I had time to think before I met the ground with a thud, my palms burning as they caught my weight on the Astroturf.

  “Annabeth?” Alex was standing over me before I could even turn over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His strong hands lifted me by the shoulders.

  “I’m fine, really. Just extremely embarrassed. Why do I fall over things every time we’re together socially?”

  He shrugged, fighting back a grin. “Law of averages?”

  I laughed. “Probably.”

  By the time we finished the game—he won, and I managed to not fall over the course separators again—Alex’s stomach was growling.

  “Dinner?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Where do you want to go?”

  I scanned the row of restaurants, their entryways packed with waiting patrons, then looked at my phone. “Do you trust me?”

  The look he gave me was dubious, but he said yes.

  “Good.” I took his hand and headed toward the gates in a trot.

  “Where are you taking me?” Alex asked.

  “You’ll see. It’s not far.”

  We strolled through the tiny square of Jane Addams Memorial Park that faced the pier. Just west of the hidden patch of beach behind the park sat a white van with a giant neon taco painted on the side in street graffiti style.

  I stood next to it, showing off the logo like a spokesmodel on a game show. “Best tacos in the city. Trust me, you don’t ever have to eat at those overpriced tourist traps again.”

  Alex’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “All right, Vanna, I’ll take your word for it.” He wagged a finger at me. “But these better be good.”

  Ten minutes later, we were headed back toward the park, hands full of white bags. The scents of beans, beef, and cheese wafted all around us. I wanted to have a picnic on the beach, but Alex said he had something even better in mind. We walked the length of the pier, snatching tortilla chips out of one another’s bags as we went. When we reached the far end, Alex nodded to a middle-aged man standing guard over a small two-seater speedboat.

  “All set?” he asked the man.

  He handed Alex a small silver set of keys. “She’s yours for the evening. Just watch out for the cruise boats and have her back by ten thirty.”

  Alex stepped aboard, set the bags of food in one seat, and held a hand out to me. I took it gratefully, hesitating at the edge of the dock. This had always been my least favorite part of rowing, and tonight, I wasn’t any more certain.

  I looked at Alex. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Yes, you can. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall. Just put one foot in. I’ll pull you the rest of the way in.”

  Shaking, I lifted one sandal and carefully placed it into the boat. The boat’s owner took my other hand and held it until I safely had both feet in the boat.

  “Thank you so much,” I called to the boatman.

  He doffed his red newsboy cap in acknowledgement.

  Alex settled me in, and I arranged the bags of food at our feet while the engine roared to life. Alex drove us out onto the lake.

  “You teach, you row, you appreciate theatre, you write poetry, and now I find you sail too. Do your talents never cease?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call this sailing, but yes, I do that as well. My dad is big into boats. He doesn’t care what size. If it floats on the water, he loves it. I think it’s in the blood and he passed it on to me. My brothers all sail too. But we don’t share his love for tall ships. They’re beautiful but way too much work. This is more my speed.”

  “Your brothers? How many do you have?”

  “Three. One older and two younger. I have a younger sister too. What about you?”

  I nodded. “One sister, older by two years. She lives in North Carolina now.”

  By the time Alex stilled the boat in an open stretch of water, the sun was beginning to set, making the skyline a dramatic backdrop of pink and peach.

  I rummaged in the bags and held up two paper-wrapped packages, pretending to balance them on scales. “Taco or burrito?”

  Alex scrunched up his face for a second, weighing the options. “Whatever you don’t want.”

  I held the burrito to my heart. “Oh, aren’t you chivalrous.” I handed him the taco then a drink.

  Alex touched a few buttons on his phone, and suddenly Otis Redding was crooning “Stand by Me.” I sank into Alex’s arms, content to enjoy the food, the view, and the company. “This might just be the best date I’ve ever been on.”

  Alex stroked my hair with his free hand. “And it’s nowhere near over yet.”

  “Promise?” I asked around a mouthful of burrito.

  His chest shook as he laughed. “Of course. And I don’t make promises lightly.”

  I swallowed. “So what made you ask me out now? And how did you think to leave me that note? Why not just ask me in person?”

  “The last part of your question is the easiest. I wanted to do something you would remember. As with dinner and a movie, any bloke can ask a girl out. Not everyone can do it using a musical reference.” The shell of his taco crunched as he bit down.

  “Another echo of your dramaturge days?”

  “Oh yes.” He took a minute to chew and swallow before continuing. “I was bitten by the theatre bug a long time ago. If I could sing or dance or act, I swear to you I’d be on the stage.” His eyes shone with an inner fire that was beautiful to behold. They were like smoldering sapphires, lit by the passion he felt for the arts. “But as that way was barred to me, I
work it into my teaching when I can.” He looked down at me. “And very occasionally into my love life. But it’s rare to find a woman who can match me quote for quote.”

  “And we haven’t even really thrown down yet. Just you wait. Hey, we should go see a show together. That would be so much fun.”

  “As you wish. Consider it done.”

  “Okay, Westley.”

  “Hey, I have yet to meet a woman who doesn’t appreciate a good Princess Bride reference.”

  I tossed the empty burrito wrapper into the bag and settled back against him. “You do get bonus points for that one.”

  When I looked up again, he’d finished eating, and his expression was pensive, eyes distant as he looked through rather than at the skyline. “Your original question is a little harder to answer.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you out the moment we met at that silly singles party, and I very nearly did, but I decided that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was just out of a long-term relationship and still very, very hurt. At best, you would have been a rebound relationship, and I couldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much more. So I decided to let you go. More than once I wondered if I had done the right thing.”

  He was bouncing his knee as he spoke. I placed a hand on it, willing him to calm down. “You wanna know a secret?”

  He stilled as his curiosity took over. “What?”

  “I’ve wanted to be with you from that same night. It’s been so hard being professional these last few months.”

  “Tell me about it.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck, turning the conversation back to his original story. “You came back into my life so unexpectedly. It wasn’t so much that I was your client that stopped me then. It was more that…” He seemed to search for the right words. “That I wasn’t sure I was ready. But yet, you were always there, waiting for me to heal but not pining away. You were living your life, and I have the utmost respect for that.”

  He went quiet for a moment. I was unsure if he would go on, but after a few deep breaths, he did.

  “Honestly, I was overwhelmed by my feelings for you, by how attracted I was not only to your body but also your intelligence. I had finally found my equal, and I didn’t want to mess that up. Besides, you were with Victor. So I waited.”