“You’re doing an excellent job, PAUL-3957. We have new orders for you. Activate order Alpha-92-C65.”
“Yes sir.”
The order directives showed up on his forearm display as his commander signed off. Paul stood up from the bed, sliding the communicator into the front pocket of his khakis, and smoothed out the crisp white sheets where his presence had disturbed them. He looked around the room to check that everything was clean and orderly as his military training had instilled in him. Everything was in its’ place, and just so, as the knock at the front door prompted him to leave the room.
***
Laura Blumenthal was busy scratching behind the ears of the three-year-old golden retriever and crooning “such a good boy” when the door before her opened up. Startled, she straightened blushing bright red. The handsome owner of the dog, Paul Bardon, towered over her wearing his usual khakis and a baby blue polo that was just a tad snug in the shoulders so that the fabric was pulled taut over his athletic frame. She always felt like she was underdressed when she was around him, wearing old concert t-shirts and leggings. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a brightly colored woven purse slung across her shoulder held her car keys, dog treats, and poop baggies. After all, dog walking in suburban Kansas City was not a profession that one really had to dress up for.
“Hi Mr. Bardon. I-I just finished walking Aspen.” She motioned to the retriever who sat at perfect attention with his tail wagging lazily. “He was perfectly well behaved, as always. He’s the best behaved dog in the entire neighborhood.”
“Thank you, Ms. Blumenthal,” he answered in his standard courteous manner and she handed him the leash. As they traded off the nylon strap Laura’s hand brushed lightly against his long fingers and she felt a small jolt as if she had been shocked.
She retracted her hand quickly, her blush deepening. She felt his dark brown eyes assessing her while she kept her own eyes fixed firmly on his loafers and kneaded the woven strap of her little purse with her fingers. For the last six months, since the quiet accountant had moved into the neighborhood and Laura had begun walking his dog, she had been harboring a crush for Paul Bardon. He was not much older than her, in his mid thirties, and very attractive. He stood just over six foot with broad shoulders that tapered down to a trim waist. His dusty blonde hair was always combed back like James Dean and even in these late October days his skin looked like it had been kissed by the sun.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she blurted out in a rush as she turned to walk away, desperate to get out from under his scrutinizing gaze. “Three o’clock as usual.”
“Laura.”
The word, her name, hung in the air for a moment and she froze in place. Paul wasn’t an outspoken man, but he always spoke with authority. This was different, however, from his carefully chosen words, deliberate and delivered in that polite manner that almost sounded robotic. Never had he called her by her first name. This was…spontaneous.
Slowly, Laura turned back around to face Paul. He looked like a model standing on his front step with Aspen sitting beside him, the both of them framed by the door with the neatly trimmed hedges extending off to either side. The only thing out of place was the look of shock and confusion on his face.
“Yes, Mr. Bardon?”
“Please, call me Paul,” he said, regaining his composure.
Laura blushed again. “Paul.”
“Maybe we could see each other another time as well. Would you be available tonight?”
“Oh. I-I would love to…but I have class tonight.” The question was unexpected. As much as she had daydreamed of this moment, she never thought in a million years that it could actually happen. After all, despite months of her walking his dog, the two of them had never really exchanged more words than were necessary. Paul’s brow furrowed and Laura knew that such a beautiful man had probably never been turned down for a date before. She quickly added, “But I’m free tomorrow.”
Paul smiled and her heart fluttered. She had never seen so much expression in his face in all the time that she’d known him. His quiet mannerisms never allowed for much in the emotional range, but his perfect smile was breathtaking and Laura felt weak in the knees.
“I’ll make reservations for tomorrow,” he said. “Is lunchtime okay? Would you mind if I were to pick you up?”
For Laura, the world seemed to be spinning and she wondered if this was all just a vivid dream she was about to wake up from. How could such sculpted lips be saying these words? She was momentarily transfixed on his mouth, how his lips moved and caressed each vowel and consonant. They were so perfectly centered between his slightly upturned nose and that prominently chiseled chin. On top of it, they were the perfect shade, slightly darker than the rest of his tan skin and-
“Laura?”
“Oh, yes,” she felt like schoolgirl fawning over him and getting lost in thought. She quickly regained herself. “Yes, I’d like that very much. Lunch sounds great. Would you like-well, I guess you already have my number.”
An amused smirk crept onto Paul’s face and Laura knew she must have been some awful shade of fire engine red from her own embarrassment. He nodded. “Yes, I have your number. I will give you a call later this evening. What time does your class end?”
“Nine o’clock.”
*****
Laura woke up early the next morning. She could barely sleep with all of her excitement for her date with Paul. It had been a long time since she had been on a proper date. Between her job as a dog walker and her business classes at night, she had removed herself from the dating scene so that she could focus on getting her career on track. Her initial plan was to finish her business degree in the next year and open her own doggy daycare before she worried about finding a man.
However, when a man like Paul Bardon asked you on a date it would be foolish to turn him down. He was well off for an accountant and owned a lovely house in the suburbs. He was handsome, in shape, and unlike some of the men from her night classes who had asked her out, he had all of his hair and teeth.
Laura’s inner thoughts continued on this train of thought as she went about her morning routine. She began by getting dressed and going for a morning run. Her steps echoed in the stairwell of her building as she descended from her third floor apartment. Then she headed in the direction of the nearest park.
One of the things she enjoyed about living in the area was that even though she lived “in the city” things weren’t crowded and suffocating. Granted, it was still an urban area and vastly different from the suburbs, but she had visited friends who had moved to places like New York City and she much preferred the sprawling urbanization of the Midwest.
The dawn was just starting to illuminate the sky but there were a few other runners out that Laura passed by when she got to the park. Some of them she recognized and a couple she had even talked to in passing. She smiled at everyone she passed, unable to contain her excitement for the day ahead.
When she returned to her apartment an hour later she was hot and sweaty, but no less excited. She turned on the coffee maker as she let down her hair and began to strip off the sweaty clothes so she could get into the shower. Emerging from the steamy bathroom wrapped in her fluffy blue towel, she breathed in the pleasant aroma of strong, dark roast coffee that filled her entire apartment.
Thoughts of Paul kept her mind abuzz and she kept replaying their conversation on the phone last night. Not that it was a particularly long conversation, as Paul was a man of few words. But just the knowledge that he was interested in her, even if he didn’t quite show it very well, was enough to make her giddy.
After pouring herself a cup of coffee, Laura began the tedious task of figuring out just what to wear. She stood in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door and wondered just how much to dress up for a first date. Paul had said he’d made reservations for brunch at 11:30, so she had roughly two hours to dissect her closet to find the most appropriate outfit.
*
**
Laura was nervous as she prepared to open the door of her apartment building. On the other side was Paul, and she was quite self-conscious of her appearance. She wondered if the dark brown slacks made her hips look too wide, or if the salmon colored sweater was too much color for her complexion. Her hair fell loosely about her shoulders and she momentarily considered throwing it up in a ponytail, but after a deep breath she decided against it and opened the door.
There stood Paul, his brown eyes were warmed by the small smile that grew on his face when he took in her appearance. He was wearing his usual khakis and a white polo, and the midmorning light highlighted the strong features of his face like his high cheekbones and square jaw.
“Good morning, my dear,” he said as he extended a hand for her.
“Good morning,” Laura managed as she blushed and took his hand.
His long fingers wrapped around hers as they walked down the front steps, and she could feel how strong they were despite how soft and smooth his skin was. She vaguely wondered what kind of magical moisturizer he must use to have such soft skin, because in comparison she figured her hands probably felt almost reptilian.
“I’m glad you were able to see me this morning,” Paul said as he led her to the dark blue Mazda and opened the door for her.
“Me too.” She let out a nervous, yet breathless, laugh as she climbed into the passenger seat. Everything inside the car was immaculate, as if the car had just come from the dealership. She wondered how he could keep everything so perfect.
“Are you ready?” he asked when he was in the car and had put his seatbelt on.
“Yes.”
That perfect smile cut across his face as the car revved to life and they pulled away from the curb. Laura could not contain her gasp as Paul wove through the downtown traffic like a fish through water. It was as if he knew just what all of the other drivers were going to do. The look on his face expressed just how much he was enjoying it and Laura noted the excitement in his eyes and how he seamlessly moved with the machine, as if he understood it on another level. She’d known guys who were into cars, but none of them had ever looked this at ease and in tune with them.
Normally, she would have worried about the lack of conversation in the car, but Laura didn’t sense any awkwardness between them. She didn’t expect Paul to say much in the first place and was just glad to be near him.
When they arrived at the little restaurant, Paul pulled smoothly into a parking spot near the front door and looked over at her with his little smile still in place. “Have you ever been here before?”
Laura shook her head. She could never afford to eat out at such fancy brunch restaurants on her budget. The dog walking paid well enough, but with the cost of tuition for her night classes there wasn’t much left over for eating out at nice restaurants.
“Then this will be a treat.”
*****
After that first date, Laura’s relationship with Paul blossomed. He began to monopolize all of her free time, taking her to museums and antique shops and regaling her with interesting facts and tidbits of history. They would take Aspen on long walks in the park and as they spent more time together, Laura felt at ease with Paul’s quiet and reserved personality. She didn’t need him to talk a lot, and she found she enjoyed his quiet presence.
He would always hold her hand, and after their third date, he had even kissed her lightly on the cheek. Laura felt electricity surge through her when his lips brushed against her skin. It was as if she had pressed her cheek onto a live wire. The jolt gave her a rush the likes of which she had never felt before. Immediately, she craved to have his lips on her.
One day, Paul invited Laura over to his place for dinner. Her familiar nerves returned as she walked up the steps to his front door. As many times as she had been here, she had never been inside of Paul’s house and somehow the prospect of actually going in struck a chord of anxiety inside of her. Even though she was familiar with his house, Laura found it hard to imagine him actually dwelling somewhere, sleeping and showering like a normal person. For some reason, he just seemed to exist in this suspended construction in her mind, like an angel that didn’t really live on earth, but visited just for her. Of course that notion was silly, and as Laura reached the front door she stilled herself and prepared to see the mundane side of Paul.
She followed his directions to dress casually, but the whole way over to his place she wondered if she was underdressed in her jeans and blouse. She knew he would be wearing the familiar khakis and polo, but somehow she always felt that it looked much classier on him than on other men.
When Laura reached the front door she noticed that there was a small note taped up with her name written on it in the most elegant handwriting. Curious, she opened it.
Laura, I’m in the kitchen. Please come in and make yourself at home. –Paul
Gingerly, she turned the doorknob and entered into Paul’s home. What she found on the other side of the door wasn’t necessarily surprising, but somehow it wasn’t what she expected.
Her first observation was how neat clean everything was. It was as if an OCD storm had hit his house. The entryway was clean, virtually sterile, with cream-colored walls, shining hardwood floors and a modest little black end table where his keys were laid. There was no clutter, not even a stack of old mail or magazines on the table. Even though she had seen this entryway a number of times, every time she dropped off Aspen after his walks, she had never been inside and been able to appreciate just how his interior aesthetic matched his personality. Even the art that hung on the walls was clean minimalist work including black and white photography in sleek black frames.
Aspen was there to greet her, his tail wagging happily and she reached down to pet him. “How are you? I’m glad to see you. Can you take me to Paul?”
Down the hall, the smell of roasted chicken and herbs wafted towards Laura and provided a homey contrast to the sterility of the house. She followed Aspen as well as her nose through the living room and into the sleek modern kitchen where Paul was just pulling his culinary creation out of the oven.
“I hope you don’t mind if we stay in tonight,” Paul said when he turned around and saw her standing there.
“Not at all,” she answered as she observed in amazement how clean everything in the kitchen was, even in the midst of cooking. She thought of her own kitchen, and the disastrous state that it was in at the moment, and felt a little embarrassed. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“If you’d like, there’s a bottle of wine in the refrigerator. Could you bring it to the table?”
Laura nodded and walked over to the fridge. Even in here, there was nothing out of place. Everything was placed on the shelves with purpose. There were no leaning bottles of half empty ketchup or stacks of leftovers waiting questionable amounts of time. She retrieved the bottle of red wine and noticed that it had a label in French she couldn’t read at all.
“Thank you.” He was already at the sleek dining table serving up the dinner on plates she was fairly certain he had bought from a local ceramicist with their hand glazed designs. The cutlery was not ornate, but polished to a shine that assured her that it was real silver. The centerpiece was a short, blue glass candleholder with a flickering flame.
Laura set the bottle down on the table and Paul stopped to pull out one of the chairs for her to sit down. Laura couldn’t help but blush. Even in his home, she felt as if they were out at one of the nicest restaurants in town.
Next, he uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass while Laura admired the display set up on the plate. Even the food was immaculately placed and the display was as beautiful as the smell. It was so perfect that Laura wasn’t sure she would be able to eat any of it for fear of messing it up.
“It’s a garlic and herb roasted chicken breast with red potatoes and grilled asparagus,” Paul explained the dish to her. Then he took his seat across from her and Aspen took his own place underneath the table. Her eyes loc
ked with Paul’s and he nodded towards her as he picked up his knife and fork. “Bon appétit.”
Lauren blushed again and picked up her own knife and fork. The chicken was tender and moist, and she almost moaned when the flavor filled her mouth. All of the nice restaurants he had taken her to were nothing in comparison to Paul’s cooking.
“How is it?”
Lauren swallowed her bite. “It’s amazing.”
“Good. It’s the first time I’ve cooked for someone else.”
Paul looked slightly embarrassed admitting this to her, but Lauren could not believe it. He was beyond perfect, and she was actually jealous of his cooking ability.
“You’re an excellent cook,” she told him. “Is it a hobby of yours?”
“No,” he admitted. “Honestly, I usually eat out. I hardly ever cook.”
Laura could feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets. He must be trying to be modest. There was no way that he could be this excellent without having any practice in the kitchen.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“What?”
“There’s no way you’re that amazing at cooking without having practiced.”
Paul laughed. It was a hearty and rich sound that filled the space around them. “I really haven’t, Laura.”
“That’s completely unfair,” she told him. “Gordon Ramsay, would probably applaud you for this and you don’t even know how good you are.”
“Well I don’t care what Gordon Ramsay thinks,” he said. “I only care if you are enjoying it.”
It was Laura’s turn to laugh as she blushed bright red. He raised his glass of wine and the two of them toasted the meal.
“To one whole month.”
*****
Laura could feel the wine going to her head as she sat with Paul on the couch with Aspen at their feet. They were watching one of Laura’s favorite movies, The Lucky One. She identified so strongly with Beth and sitting there with Paul, she secretly imagined that they could be living out the movie. Paul could be her Logan and Aspen could be Zeus.
In the Arms of the Dragon Princes Page 65
