Only Good With You

by Zoey Kinsman

  Trish nudged me and said, “Let’s go. He told me where to meet him. Said we should go ahead and get the table he’d reserve, and he’d be there as soon as he could get out.”

  Were we being set up? He didn’t look like a joker. Nonetheless, if we didn’t follow through, Trish would never forgive me.

  Outside, I hailed a cab. Actually, I also knew a little bit about how to push my way through a crowd with the best of them.

  When we got into the cab, I realized I was beginning to feel really tired and uncomfortable from a long work day and wished I had brought a change of clothes with me. My professional ensemble was becoming cumbersome, when I just wanted to relax now. Maybe after dinner, I could politely get out quickly.

  Trish knew where we were going and directed the cab driver. He had picked a popular sushi place.

  “Paul says the reservation will be under your name.”

  “How does he know my name?” I answered, perplexed.

  “Says he knows of you from a friend you represented a few years back.”

  Well, at least we might have something in common to talk about over dinner. “Listen, Trish, I’m just going to eat and then take the limo back. I’m pretty zonked. By the way, did you tell the limo driver that there’s a different pick-up spot?”

  “Yes, as soon as Paul invited us to dinner, I texted the limo people to hang back until further notice. And, Anne, no worries. I’m sure if he wants me, he’ll find a way back for me in the morning. You don’t mind if I come in a bit late now, do you?” She winked at me.

  I had to laugh again. I really had a soft spot for her. Maybe she was the daughter I always wanted, all precocious and smart-tongued.

  “Hey, why are you smiling now?” she asked.

  “I was just thinking what a lucky woman your mom is.” I gave her a squeeze. “Now, you know, if I sense he’s a beast, I’m not letting you go, right?”

  “I can only hope he’s a beast,” she exclaimed and laughed out loud.

  I gave up and had to chuckle along with her.

  When we got to the restaurant, the host told us that there was indeed a reservation made for the private room under my name.

  “Yes, please follow me,” the maître d' instructed.

  It was a lovely, dimly lit room with one big square wooden table, and the room was lightly fragrant with the fresh scent of ginger. The waitress came by with green tea to start. I wrapped my hands around the warm, small cup. When I looked over at Trish, she still seemed nervous with anticipation. I patted her hand to say she’d be okay.

  He arrived about a half hour after us. “I hope I haven’t kept you ladies waiting long?”

  He appeared before us in tight denim jeans that were snug in all the right places and an even tighter T-shirt that accentuated his bulging arms, chest, and abs. The shirt was solid white and spoke of quality. Trish looked like she might faint. He wore sunglasses and a baseball cap so as not to be recognized. He removed those as soon as he sat down, choosing to sit directly across from me. Interesting.

  He smiled at Trish and extended his hand to me. “Hello, Anne, nice to meet you again. I’m Paul Wickham. I do hope you remember me.” He seemed so very smug, with an ear to ear grin as he introduced himself.

  Was I reading the ego right? Was he just being nice, or had my psyche really tarnished?

  I extended mine in return. “Hi, Paul, nice to meet you as well, but I’m very sorry I can’t place you. Trish says we know each other.”

  “Yes…yes…of course, it’s been so long. My friend Susan Collier speaks so highly of you. She said you published her two novels.”

  Oh, so he knew me from Susie. That same Susan who wrote two best-selling novels I sold for her, and then she moved onward and upward to a bigger outfit. No loyalty, and now I wondered if birds of a feather really did stick together.

  “How is Susan doing?” I spoke in my best pseudo caring voice. I could act a scene or two.

  “She’s great. She’s writing scripts now and working on some great projects. I think she has you to thank for that.”

  How mighty generous and magnanimous of him to acknowledge my contributions to her career.

  I’m not bitter, nah! I stopped mid-thought to remind my Grumpy Cat self to retract her claws for the moment, or at least ’til I knew more.

  “So, how do you know her?”

  “She’s actually my mother-in-law…” He laughed a bit nervously with that admission. I watched Trish’s heart sink. “Well, my ex-mother-in-law, in fact. I’m divorced.” That remark came out of him ever so casually, as if divorce were commonplace these days instead of a heart-wringing decision, and as if to absolve himself of any wrong-doing in any relationship. Yeah…maybe it really wasn’t that big a deal anymore.

  “Oh, so sorry to hear that, Paul.” Trish tried her best to fawn all over him. But he didn’t seem interested.

  “Well, please give Susan my best wishes next time you see her. It’s been a few years since we’ve talked. I think we both moved on for the better. But I don’t remember you at all from those days. Again, I’m so very sorry.” And I sincerely meant it.

  He nodded and looked down, lost in concentration, perhaps a tad disappointed that I had no recollection of him. Actors always strove for acknowledgement of any sort. That was my experience.

  “Shall we order?” he moved on.

  “Sounds good,” Trish piped in, vying for a bit of attention.

  I thought it was a good idea to go silent and let them speak to one another.

  The waiter came, and Paul ordered for the table. It was obvious he knew the place well. In the meantime, Trish got to ask him a whole bunch of show- and story-related questions. Focusing on my food, I didn’t interrupt, although he kept looking my way.

  I found myself smiling at him when Trish seemed so very silly at times in her adoration. He understood.

  When the meal was finally done and our last cups of tea were served, Paul looked over at Trish and softly put his hand on hers. I thought she was going to pass out. I watched on as an objective observer.

  “Trish,” he spoke low and determined. “I need a favor. I have some business that I must discuss with Anne, and I need you to understand that our time together has to end now. Your limo is waiting outside to take you home.”

  That came out of him way too easily. Didn’t he take anything seriously? He was dumping her dreams of knowing him intimately, and he knew it. What man didn’t know when a woman was taken with him? It was obvious from her flirtations that Trish wanted him.

  Shocked and taken aback, I said, “I need that limo as well. Perhaps Trish might wait for me, or you could call my office to book an appointment? Besides, how long do you think we need?”

  How presumptuous of this man to think he could just use Trish to ambush me for a business meeting. Well, he was picking up this tab for sure! What a nerve, not even consulting me. Grumpy Cat was on high alert.

  He could see I didn’t like the style he used to get my attention. “Anne, don’t worry. I will make sure you get home safe and sound as well. I have many drivers available at my disposal.”

  With that, his smile was broad and inviting once again. There was a curious twinkle in his eye in anticipation of our looming conversation.

  Still, there was Trish to deal with, who was a little downtrodden and saddened not to be getting into his pants tonight. This was her call. I was not going to take away any of her special moments with him just because he wanted to talk business.

  Her chest heaved up and down, and then she let out one long heavy sigh. “Sure, I understand that business always comes before pleasure. It was just fabulous to meet you and enjoy a meal.”

  There was the classy, sophisticated woman I knew. I was so proud of how well she was handling the situation.

  Picking up her things, she quickly gave me a peck on the cheek, with a wave of goodbye to Paul.

  We were now alone at that table.

  * * * *

  “So, Paul, how can
I help you?” If it was business he wanted to talk about, let the drama begin.

  “What makes you think I want to talk business with you?” He motioned the waiter to remove the dishes and clean-up the table as he spoke. Then he looked right at me and waited for my response, his eyes piercing my soul, looking for answers. Well, that’s what it felt like.

  What game was he playing?

  “Paul, I actually have no idea why you have asked me to remain behind if it’s not business-related. Care to share some more info with me?” I knew my manner was abrupt, but I still felt ambushed by the whole ordeal.

  He laughed out loud and shook his head. “Anne, for as brilliant a woman as you are academically, you sure don’t know how to get on socially, now do you?”

  “You’re rude!” I retorted. “Why have you summoned me here, and what’s all this bullshit about? Speak plainly, please!”

  He moved his chair closer to mine and nonchalantly slipped my hand into his. My hand easily disappeared into that big brawny hand. I looked down to make sure it still existed. What was he up to now? I didn’t like being played. One more round of this silliness, and I was out of there.

  Sensing I was exasperated, he firmly squeezed my hand. “Anne, I’m just going to say this simply since you’re obviously not getting my message.” Pausing to collect himself, and now looking around as if for refuge, he blurted out, “Um, well…the truth is, I like you.”

  “I like you, too, Paul,” I responded as I pulled my hand from his. Boundaries, right?

  “Okay, you’re still not getting it. I really like you. Frankly, I’m attracted to you, as in a man likes a woman thing. Is that clear enough?”

  Laughter escaped me. Tears of hysterical laughter fell freely from my eyes. What a jokester! Oh, he thought he’d caught a gullible fish. He was going to concoct a story to chuckle over with industry peers.

  Read it now: Old lady falls for young hot actor guy! Well…not happening.

  Dabbing my eyes and face with the napkin, I looked at him seriously and said, “I have no idea what game you are playing, but I’m not interested.” With that statement, I made ready to walk out of the restaurant and out of his life.

  Assuredly and quite bravely, he grabbed my arm. “Sit down, please. I have more to tell you.”

  “Not interested, Paul.” Again, I made to leave.

  “Please, Anne, just hear me out, and then you can go if you still want to.”

  “Fine, you’ve got five minutes. Go!” I crossed my arms in front of me to signal I was not open to any convoluted story.

  “I don’t think you remember that we met six years ago at a launch for Susan’s first novel. Why would you remember or notice me?” He gazed up at the ceiling as he spoke that truth. “I was nobody back then. Not good enough to make your acquaintance. Sure, I always had my good looks, but I was convinced you had been with many of my type before, and I’d be no different. So I just watched you maneuver from afar. I remember that day so well, and how you looked. Your hair was all swept back and loose, illuminating your beautiful and delicate facial features, just like right now at this very moment. I looked into your eyes, which spoke volumes of emotion to me, and tried to make contact, but to no avail, like a ghost floating aimlessly in the background of your existence. Your skin was so inviting, smooth like opals and pearls, and made me want to rush to touch you…” He paused to take a deep breath and recompose himself.

  “Do you know how your hips sway when you walk? Yeah, probably not. I heard you talk and listened closely, and all the while, you never knew I was within earshot. Even back then, there was something mysterious about you. But that turned me on even more. I had to know why this notable person, who seemingly had it all, didn’t look happy. Why was this beauty, this talent, so tarnished? It made me question my own pursuit of notoriety. Was it worth it? But as time separated me from your circle, my own career came more into focus, and my path was made clear.” Again, he looked away and not at me. “I remember thinking what a remarkable woman you were, so accomplished and so sure of yourself. Did you know that confidence is the greatest aphrodisiac?”

  And with that remark, he looked right at me.

  Quickly, I grabbed my glass of water and took a big gulp.

  “Anne, I always thought that one day I would be successful enough to come to you openly and honestly and tell you that I want you. I’m here now. This is my moment.”

  Silence ensued. The story so far had left me flummoxed, yet curious where this would lead.

  “Paul…I really don’t know what to say. If you’re serious…”

  “Let me talk then. You always gnawed away at my memory. At night, I’d think how life might be treating you. Sometimes, I would see snippets of information and articles referencing you, and then know how you were doing. You so intrigued me…were kind of an enigma to me, too, you could say. But when I saw you today with Trish, I knew it had to be a sign. Why would someone so classy and sophisticated be at a Con? It had to be divine intervention.”

  Oh, my God! This man was making me laugh again! Uh-oh. Or maybe it was hidden nervousness spilling out as laughter? Maybe his message was hitting too close to the core for me?

  He seemed so hurt by my laughter. His face changed and at once seemed sullen. Looking down and away, he said in earnest, “Do you fucking know how much bravery it took for me to take a chance like this and spill my guts to you?”

  I did know and understood, but something was stopping me from boarding the Paul Wickham train to God knew where.

  “Whoa…okay, slow down here. Let’s just stop and breathe for a minute,” I heard myself say. Somehow, I was insulting this virtual stranger, and as defensive as I could be, I didn’t want to do that. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. “The words you’ve spoken and the sentiments expressed are just lovely, Paul, but I think you have totally overwhelmed me. I need time to think.” Where had he come from, and why? I was still not a hundred percent sure if he was gaming me or not.

  There was a long pause. The tension between us was palpable, but I wasn’t ready to speak yet. After about five minutes, he offered up an idea.

  “How about we go for a walk? There’s a café around the corner, and we can grab a coffee and talk some more. Okay?”

  “Paul, I need to know straight up if you are playing some kind of game here.”

  “Are you kidding me? Now you’re being rude! Why would I even do that? I can have any woman I want, but I only want to know you better.”

  “That’s a very charming thing to say, but, realistically, we’re both in a business where things can go sideways and wrong very quickly. I have a reputation to uphold, as do you.”

  “Anne, I really have so much more to lose than you. I’m being honest with you here. No one needs to know of our connection, if that makes you feel more secure or comfortable.”

  “So we have a connection already?”

  He saw my face light with mirth. He took that as a sign that I was getting onboard with finding out more.

  “Well, yes, we do have a connection, and I hope it gets stronger as the night progresses.”

  Wow, this was turning into a very curious evening indeed.

  * * * *

  He paid the bill quickly and left a generous tip. We gathered our belongings and left the restaurant. Paul wore his disguise, and I just did me.

  When he took my hand in his, I let him. Don’t ask me why. A recognized primal, earlier life instinct just took over. It was the instinct a younger woman might have felt when confronted with romantic possibility.

  Briskly, we walked south and rounded the first corner to the café he’d mentioned earlier. My exhaustion from a long day at work was somehow put miraculously on hold. Curiously, that instinct and a tinge of excitement I hadn’t felt for some time fueled my psyche.

  Guiding me to a cozy little table at the back, he showed himself to be a gentleman and pulled out a chair for me. Before I knew it, he sat down right up next to me in another chair. His
arm went over my shoulder, and he whispered in my ear, “You still smell divine.” Ever so slowly, he moved his lips away, back over my ear, as the briefest touch of his wetness left me shivering for more.

  Grumpy Cat sprang to attention. “Paul, we agreed to talk. So let’s talk.”

  The arm that rested around my shoulders didn’t move. “So tell me, Anne, how has life been treating you? Are you as lonely as me?”

  Again, I let silence envelop us. Such a profound statement needed air to breathe, and insight to germinate into the correct response.

  I turned to only gaze into his eyes, looking for an explanation. I sought some clarification as to why he had chosen me on this particular night to spill his guts to. But instead, reflected in return, were pools of deep blue sincerity that seemed to yearn for some kind of understanding.

  Again, Grumpy Cat came out to ask, “Are you looking for some kind of mother figure to comfort you? My bosom is ample and could hold your head. Is that what you need, Paul?”

  Laughter roared out of him as if I had flipped a switch. Tears rolled easily down his gorgeous face for minutes. The strong arm that had held me close moments prior came off my shoulder and into his lap as he quickly cupped his hands to his face to try and suppress his amusement.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You…you are so funny, Anne.” He paused and looked straight at me again to say, “You are so much work, too…exasperating one minute and then exhilarating the next.” He went on. “For your information, I had a mother…a great mother. I’m not in need of a mother figure, but I am in need of a good friend. Someone who knows the work I do and can relate to the struggle to not lose oneself in the process. To me, you have always represented someone who never lost themselves in L.A. I applaud that. It appeals to me emotionally. But, if you would let me lay my head upon your ample ‘bosom,’ I would gratefully do so.” With that smart remark, he smiled sincerely in my direction.

  “So, it’s friendship you seek? Well, the good news is that I can do friendship. I’m very good at it and would consider giving it a go with you. I mean, you bought us dinner and all.” I easily agreed to friendship since his lonely comment resonated within me.