by Dylan Allen
“But this…” she points between us with her index finger, “Isn’t going anywhere either.”
I start to speak, but she continues. “I am attracted to you. I’ve thought about you. Hell, I called you. But I’m very focused on my career right now. I don’t--”
I interrupt her and for the life of me, I don’t know why I am being so persistent. She has given me a very nice brush off.
“Then you have nothing to lose by letting me take you to lunch. My life is complicated at the moment, too.” I put my finger under her chin and force her eyes to meet mine before I go on. I want her to see how serious I am.
“I feel like I’ve known you for months rather than having spent a total of 30 minutes in your presence. I know you feel it, too. Can you deny it?”
Her eyes, luminous and golden, widen slightly as I talk and they tell me everything I need to know.
“Look, let’s just have lunch, I won’t ask for more. Who knows, you might make a new friend.”
I end my sentence with, what I hope is, a relaxed smirk to try and temper how desperate I know sound.
She sighs and studies me for a moment. Her eyes narrow and her expression is completely unreadable.
She sticks her hand out, palm up. I stare at it, taken aback for a moment by just how small it is. “Give me your phone,” she demands. I do it without a moment’s hesitation. I unlock it as I hand it over. She opens up the keypad and enters a number and hits the green icon to call it before she hangs up again.
She hands the phone back to me, that thing passing between us as our fingers touch. Her eyes narrow as she pulls her hand back and looks me squarely in the eyes, pinning me to the spot.
“That’s my number. Call me tomorrow, and we can set something up. But if this is just a game because you want to fuck me. You’ll be disappointed. And so will I.”
Then, she turns around and walks, without a backward glance, into the bathroom.
I stand there for a second, almost dazed and looking at my phone. This woman is making me crazy. That is the only explanation for this madness.
Yes, I want to fuck her—and I will.
But that isn’t all. There is something behind her eyes. Something I saw clearly tonight—sadness. It is almost bleak, and I recognize it because I’ve felt it before myself. Someone has disappointed her terribly. She is smart and sexy. But she is also wary and hurt.
I turn to leave the restaurant. As I walk by the table she is sharing with her so-called date, I see him flirting with the waitress standing next to him. I might be a fool, but he is something worse. If I had Addie to myself, I wouldn’t even notice other women, much less pay attention to one.
I exit the restaurant, hail a cab, and head back to my apartment. As I think about my brother and my nephew, I am tempted to delete her number. I just have to remember they come first. If I can do that, then maybe I can handle Addie. As I think this though, I know the words “Addie” and “handle” don’t belong in the same sentence. I laugh to myself as I settle in for the ride home. I can’t wait to see her again.
August 31, 2014
“1234, My baby don’t mess around because she loves me so and this I know for shoooo.”
My alarm, set to Outkast’s “Hey Ya” wakes me with a jolt. Most mornings this song is a like a shot of espresso. However, this morning it’s like thousand knives stabbing me in the head.
I came back to the table after my encounter with Simon ready to go home. But we had only just ordered our food, so I had sit through a date with Jason. He continued to talk about us going home together. And he also seemed to think I was too stupid to see how his hand kept brushing up against our waitresses, and how every time she came to see if we were enjoying our meal she was only speaking to him, completely ignoring me.
Honestly, I didn’t give a shit. It was our first and only date, and I just wanted it over as quickly as possible. My emotions were in a tail spin by the time I got home. I tried to find some answers at the bottom of a tequila bottle and failed.
Now, I am paying for it.
Seeing Simon had been incredible. And stressful. He looked gorgeous and earnest; I can’t pretend I wasn’t relieved when he explained about his neighbor and his nephew. I wasn’t being coy when I told him I wasn’t looking for anything.
I’m not. At least, I wasn’t. I don’t know. I gave him my number because… I wanted to. For the first time in my adult life, I want to see a man again. And even though that should make me want to run as far and as fast as I can, I am also drawn to him. I am not looking for entanglements. I don’t want to give someone the chance to break my focus or my heart.
I am not sure what it is about him, but I am intrigued by him. And the way Simon looks at me, like he understands things I haven’t even figured out myself, is oddly comforting.
I turn off my alarm and get out of bed. I regret moving so fast, but I put on my running clothes, slip on my running shoes, grab my phone, headphones, and head towards the door. A good run will help me clear my head and think.
As I look at my phone to open Spotify, I notice I have five missed calls. All from Lily. I immediately open my voicemail. She called five times, but left one message. I press play and put the phone to my ear, my heart almost beating out of chest.
“Ad, it’s me. Listen, call me back. Agent Walker called and says she needs to talk to us about Dad. She was vague, but said it’s urgent.”
I hang up and sit down on my couch. I don’t need this shit right now. Since my father disappeared, the FBI has been a constant nuisance. They have always believed our father would make contact. Thirteen years later, there have been two changes in leadership of the task force assigned to this case, multiple interviews, and not a single word from him.
I call Lily back right away. It’s not even dawn in Miami, but I don’t care. It goes straight to voicemail, forcing me to leave a message letting her know I have nothing to say to the FBI.
“Lil, I don’t care what they have to say. I don’t need an update. Let them know that; I hope that will be enough.” I hang up and head out of the door.
When I get back from my run, Cara is waiting for me in the lobby of my building. She jumps up when she sees me and rushes across the hallway toward me. She is smiling and I am so glad to see her.
“Hey, honey! What’d you do? Run a marathon? I’ve been here for almost an hour!”
I glance at my watch and wince. “Sorry, Care. I lost track of time. I’ll be quick in the shower.”
We have a standing monthly Sunday afternoon boozy brunch date we started when I moved to London. I strip quickly and step into the bathroom while Cara rifles through my closet. When I step out she is lounging on my bed and grinning at me like a cat who just drank a bowl full of cream.
“What the hell are you grinning at?” I ask as I dig through my drawer for my underwear and bra. When I turn around, she is just eyeing me and not saying a word.
“What?” I growl, exasperated at her being so cryptic.
“Simon’s been texting,” she says in a singsong voice as she holds up my phone.
I forget getting dressed and snatch my phone from her. She laughs like a loon while I scroll through my messages.
Simon has sent four texts since I stepped into the shower.
Simon: Hey, Addie, it’s Simon. Great to see you last night. You looked amazing. Do you have plans for lunch today?
Simon: I’m free until about 5pm.
Simon: I could meet you somewhere nearer your place, Russell Square?
Simon: Let me know.
And apparently, I’ve replied.
Me: My Old Dutch, Holborn. One hour. Bring Louis for Cara.
Glaring at Cara, I have to stop myself from throwing my phone at her. “What the fuck, Cara?”
She looks at me and has the decency to blush. “Sorry, Ad, but I knew you wouldn’t respond. So I decided to do it for you. You haven’t stopped thinking about this guy. Apparently, you saw him last night and gave him your number. Stop being
so damn stubborn. You haven’t gotten laid once since you’ve lived in London; you’re starting to worry me.”
“Worry you? Because I’m not fucking anyone? Really?” I look at her incredulously as I bend to pick up the clothes I dropped when I reached for my phone.
“Yes, Addie. I’m not advocating for you to become a raging nympho, but you seem to be closing yourself off even more now than you did in undergrad.”
I’m not closing myself off. I am just doing what I have to do. What no one else can do for me. I am trying to build a life and a career.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want Simon. He’s hot and from what I can tell, he’s a good balance of alpha and nice guy. Though, I can’t get distracted, and I can tell he would do just that. Still, what harm can brunch do?
“Fine. I hope he brings Louis and makes this worth all of your scheming.”
Cara only laughs as she runs to my bathroom to touch up her make up.
August 31, 2014
After I get Addie’s brief but direct text, I immediately call Louis and ask him to meet me at Holborn station in an hour. He doesn’t even ask why, he just says, “See ya.”
Louis and I have been mates since our days at Harrow, an exclusive all boys boarding school. We couldn’t be more different. He comes from a family of land owning Brits, who have been here since The Conqueror’s days, and is part of large, supportive, and loving family. I was abandoned by my Ghanaian father and raised by my single British mother, who, like my sister, is in jail.
I was at Harrow on a scholarship. He was a legacy. When we were paired as roommates, I was sure we’d end up beating each other to death. Instead, we discovered our love for all things Tolkien, we have been like brothers ever since.
An hour later, I step out onto Holborn High Road, the traffic is heavy and the air is heavy with smell of cars, the food vendors that line up outside the station and of the people lined up on the station wall smoking. That is where I see Louis. He is leaning on the side of the station wall, smoking a cigarette with his eyes glued to his phone. It’s an unseasonably hot day and in his shorts and T-shirt he looks like a student rather than the award winning set designer he is.
“Hey, man.” I say as I clap him on the back. He looks up and greets me with his trademark smirk.
“What’s up, Crusher?” Louis still calls me the nickname I earned at Harrow for my dominance on the Rugby field.
“Listen, I am meeting Addie here, and she asked me to bring you to keep Cara company. So, don’t fuck this up for me. Just be nice and act like you’ve got some fucking manners.”
“Well, shit. Nice to see you, too. What do you think? I was raised by wolves?” His laugh is slightly sinister while he slaps me on the shoulder. “I actually like Cara, but I don’t fuck dancers in the company. It’s too close to home.” He takes a final drag of his cigarette and stubs it out as we cross the street to the restaurant.
He continues when I raise an eyebrow. He’s never been that concerned about rules before.
“She’s drop dead sexy. She has made me think about breaking the rules more than anyone else has before though. So, shit. It’s Sunday, let’s get drunk and maybe I’ll get lucky. I hear she’s moving to Paris soon anyway, so whatever.”
I look at him and have to fight a laugh. Louis can be such an asshole. He’s rich and titled and women throw themselves at him. He’s got this persona-- slightly rude, disinterested- that he uses to ward them off. But when he is interested, he has charm in spades that I’ve never seen anyone successfully resist. I don’t know Cara, but she might be in trouble.
We cross the street to the restaurant and I’m relieved I don’t see Addie and Cara anywhere yet. I get us a table for four and we order coffee.
“So tell me about this woman who has got you out for brunch on a Sunday when we should be at the pub watching footie?”
I sit back in my chair and sigh. “Man, I don’t even know. You were with me when I met her for the first time. Then I saw her again a month ago when she was lost in the Grove, and I ran into her again last night again.”
“Does she know about Henry and Ashley?” Louis is one of the few friends I’ve clued in on my new situation.
“No. And honestly, I’m not sure I’ll tell her. She’s fucking gorgeous and there is something about her. God knows I don’t have time for a relationship right now. But I can’t stop thinking about her, man. When I saw her last night, I decided to throw caution to the wind, you know? She gave me her number. I called her. Here we are.”
Louis’ eyes dart over my shoulder. “Well, the stone cold foxes who just walked in are our dates. So try to act like you’re not a total git and don’t blow this for me either.”
I turn around to look at Addie. She’s with Cara, who is a doppelganger for Eva Mendez—if Eva Mendez was platinum blonde. Yet, she doesn’t hold a candle to Addie in my eyes.
Just looking at her is mind-blowing. She is wearing her hair down again, but this time it’s an absolute mess of curls—they fly every which way. She is wearing hardly any make up from what I can tell, but her lips have a coat of some sort of pink gloss, making them look like they are begging to be kissed. She is wearing one of those romper things girls love these days. All one piece, bright yellow and so short, I am sure if she bends over, I’d get a glimpse of her ass. Her tits look luscious and my mouth waters at the same time I feel my cock waking up. I notice that she is wearing that gold fern pendant around her neck, up close it is delicate yet striking.
We both stand up as they approach our table.
“Simon. Hi.” She reaches forward to place a kiss on my cheek and I get a whiff of her. She smells good enough to eat—all vanilla and frosty peppermint. I sit down quickly because my cock has gone from drowsy to red-bull-awake in three and half seconds.
“You remember Cara, right?” she continues as she sits down next to me.
“Yes, of course. Since Louis here has lost his manners, I’ll introduce myself.”
I reach out to shake Cara’s hand. She is grinning down at me like we have an inside joke of some sort. She looks like a naughty sprite and the gleam in her eye is fully of mischief. I look at Louis to continue my joke, but he is already rounding the table to push Cara’s seat in for her as she sits down.
Cara’s smile gets even wider—if that’s even possible. “Well, hi there, Louis. I didn’t know you were such a gentleman. Thank you.” I think she is blushing.
“Oh, Cara, I’ve got many layers to peel back. You just wait.” Louis returns with a wink.
Addie rolls her eyes at the same time I do and ours eyes meet. We share a grin at their flirtation.
“So, Addie, what brings you to this side of the pond?” Louis asks. Addie starts to answer at the same time Cara leans over to ask me with the conspiratorial grin back on her face, “So, what do you do, Simon?”
Conversation flows, the table is absolutely tension free, everyone is relaxed and it’s like we’ve had brunch together every Sunday for the past five years. The food is fantastic. The girls are drinking mimosas and we drink beer. We’ve order the gigantic Dutch style pancakes the restaurant is known for. I’m amazed as I watch Addie absolutely demolish hers. I love how completely comfortable she is. She eats what she likes, drinks what she likes, laughs as loudly as she wants and is refreshingly direct during our conversation. I’m totally in this woman’s thrall.
Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by the loud ring of a phone. We all reach into our respective pockets and purses. It’s Addie’s phone and she declines the call with an annoyed scoff and a quick shake of her head at Cara, who starts to speak.
Her phone rings again less than a minute later and she declines the call yet again with an awkward glance at the table.
But the mood at the table has shifted with Cara’s nervous glances at Addie, whose phone starts ringing again right away. Addie stands up and says, “I’ve got to take this,” and walks off.
I watch her retreating back, the slight sway of
her ass, the flex of her muscular legs with every step she takes. She is marching like a soldier to war and I pity whoever is on the other end of that call.
This woman is a walking puzzle. She is so feminine and sultry, yet she is also so fierce and formidable. I have a feeling I haven’t even seen half the pieces which make up the picture that is Addie. I am more determined than ever to know who she is and what’s keeping her smile from reaching her eyes.
August 31, 2014
“Hello?” I know who is calling before I even answer, even though the number is not a contact in my phone. That 202 area code and number is not one I will ever forget. It’s the FBI headquarters’ main number.
I make my way outside to take the call and my irritation crests.
“Miss Dennis?”
“You know it’s me, why are you asking?” I know I’m being rude, but I don’t care. These people have treated me and my sisters like our father’s accomplices for the last thirteen years; I’m sick of them.
“Miss Dennis, this is Agent Walker. We need to speak with you about your father’s case. Is this a good time?”
I scoff—as if they care if it’s a good time. “Actually, it’s not. Can we schedule for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow will be too late. We’ve received our first substantial tip about your father’s whereabouts. We’d like to discuss it with you as soon as possible.”
My stomach takes a nosedive and I think my lunch might make a reappearance. I don’t want to have this conversation. There is a part of me that is curious, but I am also afraid of my father’s name becoming headline news again. I’m most afraid that the peace I’ve found in London will be disrupted because of it.
“Can I call you back in a few hours?” I say. I wince as hear the pleading tone of my voice. I hate that this whole situation makes me feel like a helpless thirteen-year-old all over again.
