by Carlos Dash
Everything is changing.
“Something like that.”
Chapter 13
I have to get on with the rest of my day. I can’t just stand there and make conversation with her. No matter how much I want to. I scan the area around us again. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t linger here. I don’t want someone who works here to see us talking privately. They’ll get ideas.”
I fight the urge to kiss her and start to move away. I can feel her looking at my back. I can feel her gaze.
“Is this supposed to be a secret? Can I at least tell my father?”
That makes me freeze to the spot. I feel a shiver run through me. What she just said is causing my head to be filled with all kinds of negative thoughts. Like I said earlier, I’m not scared of Coach Reed. Not even close. But I didn’t want to become that guy. I don’t want to be the sort of person who starts a sexual relationship with the daughter of an employee.
I mean I will be that guy. I just don’t want the news to get out. This has to be kept between me and Emily.
But for how long.
“Don’t say anything. It’ll be our secret.”
Emily doesn’t look excited at the thought of that. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sounds sleazy.”
She has a point.
“Just for a little while,” I tell her. “Until I can figure out what to do about all this.”
“About all this?” She has the hint of a smile on her face.
“About us,” I say, knowing that that’s what she wants to hear. This is obviously very exciting for her, but I’m having all kinds of doubts. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I need more time to make sense of those feelings, but time isn’t a luxury I have. Emily is going to be going back to college soon. After that, who knows what might happen. I may never see her again. Maybe she’ll meet some guy her own age and fall in love with him. Then she’ll forget all about me. I’ll be just some older guy she slept with during summer break.
That’s why I have to strike while the iron is hot.
I have to spend as much time with her as possible… while I still can.
And perhaps if I sleep with her a few more times, I’ll realize that there was never anything real between us at all. Just a mirage on my part.
Wishful thinking?
“So trust me,” I say to Emily, turning back to face the empty hallway in front of me. “Let’s put this on the down-low for now.”
She doesn’t respond. I walk away and turn a corner. I can feel the breathing in my chest getting heavier. Damn, I’m actually getting excited about the thought of going out to dinner with her. Me… excited… about going out on… is it a date? A real date?
No, it isn’t a real date. But something like it.
We’re two adults, both single, who are going to dinner together. Sounds like a date. But we both know it isn’t quite in that realm. Dates are supposed to be about two people getting to know each other. We just have sex on our minds.
I don’t know if there’s a name for that sort of thing.
Chapter 14
I hurdle through the rest of the days events with only the rendezvous with Emily on my mind. As I sit in my office and have meetings with various assistant coaches, I can’t zero in on anything. The words go in one ear and come out the other. I’m not absorbing anything.
Okay, I’ve got to admit this: I’m picturing how the date will go. I’m actually running through various scenarios and all the possible outcomes. Obviously I want sex more so than anything. But even the thought of just sitting across from her and talking to her makes my heart flutter.
I don’t know whether to smile or feel disgusted at myself.
Then I start to think about where I’ll take her. There’s no shortage of great restaurants in Seattle. From what I’ve heard, the best of the best is a place called “The 57 Club.” Bizarre name, I know. But if it’s half as good as its reputation indicates, then that has to be my first option.
An hour later, I’m walking to my car, doing my best to ignore the other people who are leaving at the same time. I don’t see Emily or her father. I consider that to be a plus. I need to maintain a clear head for my drive back to the penthouse.
As usual, getting onto the road isn’t an easy task because of all the traffic around that time—people show their true colors in how desperate they are to leave work and get home.
By the time I arrive at my street, my temper is flaring and I’m cursing out every car I see beside me. Doesn’t matter if the driver has done anything. As long as he/she exists, I despise that person with every fiber of my being.
I bring the car to a stop in the driveway and go in through the front door. As soon as I close the door behind me, I suddenly feel very tired.
No, tired isn’t the right word.
There’s something bubbling up inside of me. Something that I can’t recall ever feeling before I met Emily. It’s that mixture of dread, excitement, and anticipation again. It’s so damn draining. It attacks and strengthens my cells at the same time.
If you’ve never experienced it for yourself before, I feel sorry for you, I really do. It’s the most incredible thing in the world.
Right. First thing is first.
The 57 club.
I look up the number for the place on my phone and give them a call. A man answers. He has a slight foreign accent that I can’t identify, and the first words that come out of his mouth are all about the restaurant and how acclaimed it is.
When it’s finally my turn to speak, I jump right into the matter. “I need a table for two for around eight-forty-five tonight.” I anticipate that unless Emily is very late in getting to my place, we’ll be able to reach the restaurant by that time.
“No can do, sir. We’re a busy place. Reservations need to be made weeks in advance.”
Classic shtick.
“You don’t have to pull that stuff with me. I know how it works. It’s a weekday. You have plenty of tables available.” I keep going before the man can offer up a response. “Think about your other patrons, the ones who did make a reservation weeks ago. They’ll get there and see that the place is half full. That’ll make you guys look bad. The more people you have at your restaurant, the higher an opinion newcomers will have of you. I’m sure your manager has some sort of rule about you needing to turn down last minute reservations, but be realistic. I’m not your enemy. What’s good for me is good for you.
“I get a nice table for myself, and you guys get another pair of customers inside of your overpriced restaurant. That sounds good, doesn’t it? Mutually beneficial. Plus, I’m a wealthy man. You do this for me and I might decide to come to your spot more often. You’d be lucky to have my business. Trust me on that.”
I take a little breath and wait for an answer. It wouldn’t surprise me if he kept resisting, but I’m prepared for that as well. It’s just a matter of knowing which buttons to push. There are other places I could take Emily—mentioning those other places will surely get a reaction from whoever this guy is.
“Did you say it’s for two people?”
I smile. I got what I wanted. As usual. “Yes, two people. And make damn sure that it’s one of your better tables. I don’t want to be anywhere near the kitchen or the bathrooms. Got it?”
“Got it, sir. Let me just get your information down. I need your first and last name, as well as your main phone number.”
I give the guy exactly what he needs to mark down my reservation. He confirms my time and ends the call.
I sigh in contentment and throw my phone onto the nearby couch.
Mission accomplished. All in a day’s work.
Chapter 15
I put the slightest bit of cologne on my collar, and then I’m ready to go.
Now I just need to wait for Emily to arrive.
I check the Rolex watch on my wrist. The hand around the dial indicates that it’s eight-thirty-six.
She should have been here by now. Unless of course the
cab was late to pick her up. Or she ran into some unexpected complications. Complications such as her not being able to give her parents a convincing cover story about where she’s going.
No, she wouldn’t be that careless. Her delay must have something to do with the taxi service she’s using.
That has to be it.
The reason I didn’t pick her up myself is because it would have seriously complicated things. She obviously wouldn’t be able to tell her parents that I was coming to get her, so she would have to resort to saying she called a cab. Then, if her parents didn’t see a cab outside their home, they would have gotten suspicious.
No. I didn’t want things to get that complicated. It would be easier for both of us this way. The worst that can happen is that her parents will think she’s dating someone who isn’t enough of a gentleman to pick her up and drop her off himself.
Small price to pay to cover up the truth.
I pace around in front of my building, watching the cars zoom by. I see a couple of taxis, but none of them came to a stop. For the twentieth time, I check my watch again.
That’s when a yellowish light strikes my face. I squint and look up to see a yellow taxi pulling up to the curb.
There we go.
I was getting anxious about nothing. She’s here. A little late, sure, but better late than never.
Moving quickly, I step up to the cab and pull out my wallet. Emily is leaning over near the driver’s window and reaching into her purse.
Time to be a gentleman.
I take out a hundred dollar bill and hand it to the driver before Emily even knows what’s going on. “There you go. Keep the change and have a nice night.”
I take Emily’s arm with a soft grip and gently tug her away from the vehicle. I don’t want her to try and fight the bill away from the driver, citing that she wants to be the one who pays him.
I can tell that that’s the sort of girl she is. Not someone who will just stand there and bat her eyelashes as the man pays for every little thing.
The driver certainly doesn’t look as if he’s in any hurry to complain. He smiles gleefully, raises his window shut, and then disappears onto the road.
I probably overpaid him by a good solid eighty bucks.
“What did you do that for?” Emily exclaims, tearing through the silence of the night.
I gesture for her to take her tone down a few clicks. “Easy. I have neighbors. I don’t want them to think I’m attacking someone out here.”
“I don’t care what they think. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did. I’m not picking you up from your place the way a man should, so it’s the least I can do.”
Emily scoffs and crosses her arms in front of her. “Then I get to pay for dinner.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
She opens her mouth to lay into me just as I notice her dress for the first time. It’s a simple red thing, yet she looks amazing in it. Her hair is tied back like she’s ready to attend a ball. Even in the less than stellar light out here, her appearance warms my blood.
It’s a rare woman who can look just as amazing in jeans as she does in a dress. If a guy finds one, he should do everything in his power to hold onto her.
And it looks like I’ve found one for myself.
So what am I going to do about it?
Chapter 16
“You look absolutely stunning,” I say, running my eyes all over Emily’s body. “Damn. How did your folks let you leave the house like that? Weren’t they afraid you would cause a fire?”
Emily’s features, which had become sharp after I stopped her from paying the taxi driver, soften up significantly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding my head like an obedient pupil listening to a teacher. “Definitely.”
I inhale the smooth air and take a look around. It’s a peaceful night.
“Let’s get going. We’re already a little behind on our reservation. I wouldn’t put it past those pretentious clowns at The 57 club to act like we don’t exist if we show up late. Are you ready?”
Emily sighs, apparently getting rid of her irritation at me for what I just did. “Ready.”
“Perfect.” Emily and I walk into the parking lot and locate my car. She sits in the passenger seat next to me. I sneak a quick glance at her left leg, which is slightly exposed because of the small cut in the side of the dress.
A round of applause for the gay men who spend so many hours designing those things. They might not appreciate the female body as much as us hetero guys, but they sure can come up with some interesting ways to make women expose a bit of skin.
“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look?” I say to Emily as I reverse onto the street.
“Once or twice,” Emily grins. “You really like the dress, huh?”
“I like both the dress and what’s underneath it.”
Sharp. I didn’t even need to think about that one. Pure reflex.
“Easy there,” Emily replies. “This is supposed to be our first official date. No funny business.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I sneak another glance at her. This time I’m looking at her face. She’s blushing a little at my words. No surprise there. Even someone as feisty as her is susceptible to flattery.
“How did it go with your parents? They buy what you were selling?”
“Bought it and ate it up. I told them one of my friends set me with a guy. A blind date.”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, causing my fingers to become slightly numb. “That’s alright… I guess. This web of lies you’re creating might come back to bite us in the ass, though.”
Emily shakes her head next to me. “Relax. They didn’t suspect a thing. I could tell.” She changes her position so that her face is inches away from mine. She’s looking at me with one of her hands pressed against the dashboard. “And where do you get off telling me not to create a web of lies? This whole thing was your idea in the first place. You’re the one who said I shouldn’t tell my father what we’re doing.”
She has me there. I don’t have a comeback for that. No retort or snarky response.
“Okay. Point taken.”
Emily continues to stare at me as I drive along towards the restaurant (ask one of your friends to do this to you while you drive. It’s surprisingly distracting). A minute later, she finally peels away and returns to her original position. “Not having second thoughts about this, are you?”
I scrunch my brow in confusion. “Where did that come from?”
“Just answer the question.”
“No. No second thoughts at all. We’re already into the thick of things. I think we’re going to have to ride it all out until the end, whenever that is. Let’s just hope this isn’t a huge mistake.”
Chapter 17
Emily and I step out of the Maserati together. The parking lot for the restaurant is only about half full. Exactly as I expected for a weekday.
More often than not, when I see a couple walking towards something together, I notice that the man is moving a little faster than the woman. Once in a while I’ll even spot a pairing where the guy looks like he’s rushing away from a fire, and his lady friend will be shooting him sour looks that he doesn’t even detect.
I know my history makes me unqualified to act like a relationship expert, but even I know that you shouldn’t walk ahead of your date. Instead, you should match her pace and be right beside her the whole time.
That’s what I do with Emily. We’re side by side as we reach the double doors of The 57 club. I pull one of them open and wait for her to enter first. Inside, the air conditioner greets us and Emily immediately takes a step back, wrapping her arms around herself.
I remove the jacket of my suit and hand it to her.
“Thanks,” Emily says, taking the article of clothing with a grateful look in her eyes. She wraps it around herself and glances around. “Why is it so cold in here?”
“I’ll tell them t
o turn it down.”
A man in a dark sweater vest appears from seemingly out of nowhere. He has a pair of thin glasses perched on his nose. Hipster glasses. “Can I help you?”
“Alexander. Table for two.”
He doesn’t go to search for a clipboard or anything of the sort. Instead, he frowns at me and says, “You’re late.” Apparently he has all the names and reservation times memorized.
“I know. We ran into some traffic.”
“Traffic on a weeknight?”
Who does this fucker think he is? Certainly not the guy I talked to on the phone, who had a voice that was far less condescending.
“Yes, traffic on a weeknight. It happens. Don’t tell me you gave away our table?”
He isn’t buying it, but I just want to sit down at this point.
“No, your table is still empty. Right this way.” He turns around with an uppity look on his face and leads us into the heart of the restaurant. It’s an upscale place, but until I try the food I won’t know what all the hype is about.
We’re seated in a nice, quiet area far away from the kitchen, so at first sight there’s nothing to complain about.
The man leading us puts his hands behind his back and moves to leave, but I call out for him to stop.
“Could you turn down the air conditioner? The lady here,” I gesture towards Emily, “is freezing. She had to put on my jacket to stop from shivering.”
“I can see that,” the man says, eyeing the jacket that Emily has draped on her shoulders. Or perhaps he’s just eyeing Emily and couldn’t care less about the jacket.
“Well, are you going to do something about it?”
The man titters in annoyance. “We had to turn it up because some of the other guests were complaining about it being too warm. Now you’re saying it’s too cold. We can’t please everyone, and it wouldn’t be practical to risk upsetting the other customers just to make you happy. I’m sure you understand.”
