Obviously, Rina would have a lot to chat about. It was good listening to Rina talk about her life drama. By the time they reached the club, Sophie realized she hadn't thought about her problems once in several hours.
The club was incredible. It was on the fifteenth floor of the Red Lion Hotel. Vast hardly described it. There were several dance floors, on two different levels. Along the walls were tables and chairs placed in a way that allowed you to talk to friends while looking at the amazing views of the city. If the city lights weren't of interest, one could watch the throngs of people on the dance floors, pulsing to the beat of the music, all seemingly enjoying themselves, drinking, laughing, dancing, and kissing.
Several people came over to talk to Rina. She graciously introduced Sophie to all of them. She had a lot of fun. Sophie thought about the last few years of her life.
She realized she had forgotten there was this big world, with lots of people in it.
By midnight, though, Sophie was drained.
"Would you stop looking at your watch," Rina said, as she sipped on her cocktail.
"I know. It's just I'm worn out," Sophie complained.
"Stop whining and take a look around. There are a lot of gorgeous men in this place, most of whom have looked your way at least once. Try to enjoy yourself and you might meet someone amazing tonight."
"Rina."
"Oh look, there's Phillip." She waved him over.
"No, don't," Sophie scoffed, trying to grab Rina's hands.
As Phillip arrived, Rina said, "I see some friends I need to go talk to. I'll see you both in a while."
"See you, Rina," Phillip said, running his hands through his hair, sitting down. He looked at Sophie. "Hello. You look nice."
"Phillip." She uttered coolly.
"That's it," he said harshly, although he smiled. "What have I done exactly to deserve this revulsion from you?"
She stared, speechless. She wasn't sure if it was his close proximity or his incredible smile, but she couldn't say a word.
He didn’t back down and continued, "As I recall, you're the one who accused me of following you. You're the one who walked out of the theater without saying a word. You're the one who yelled at me the last time I tried to talk to you. Am I wrong?"
Still, she was unable to speak. She was transfixed, watching the way his mouth moved, the way he leaned back on his chair. She wanted to slap herself to stop her foolishness, but instead sat there helplessly.
Phillip started laughing. "I've been trying to be cool, give you your space because I hoped you'd realize I'm a good guy." Taking a sip of his drink, he asked, a confused look on his face, "Are you all right?"
"Um, yes. I'm fine, no thanks to you," she said, snapping out of it.
"No thanks to me? Sophie, what did I do?"
"Are you kidding me? At least once a week, I walk into my classroom with hearts drawn on my chalkboard and the students making kissing noises when my back is turned to them. It’s incredibly humiliating."
"It wasn't my intention," he said, still chuckling, then took another drink.
"I'm sure I'll get over it." She laughed as well, realizing it didn't really bother her. Taking a drink of her water, she glanced at him again. He looked at her inquisitively. Her stomach had butterflies doing the Hokey Pokey inside. She was surprised he caused these feelings in her. He was handsome, but she'd known lots of handsome guys, including David, and none of them had ever made her feel this way. She sighed inwardly, looking down.
I liked it better when I was mad at him, she thought crossly.
"That's quite a ring on your finger. How long have you been married?"
"Huh," she said. He pointed a finger at her wedding ring, and understood what he meant.
"Oh, two years," she replied, putting her hands in her lap.
"I was married for seven," he began, while he stirred his drink. "My divorce became final about a month ago." He stopped a moment to gulp the rest of his drink before he went on, "She had an affair. Told me she was in love with him and he was going to leave his wife soon. She left me for him."
She stared at him again and couldn't help it. She didn't know any man who would open up and share like him.
He's probably drunk, she thought. He must have realized she was in shock because he laughed.
"Hey I know, I pass along too much information. At least that’s what my sisters tell me."
She laughed, too. “Yes, it's a lot of information, but its okay."
"Yeah? All right, what else would you like to know?"
His eyes were twinkling with pleasure.
"I'm getting divorced," she blurted, then blushed, embarrassed she'd told someone other than Rina. It was weird but good, she had to admit.
"You are?" he questioned, looking surprised.
She nodded, unsure of what else to say.
This is crazy, she thought, anger at David welling up inside of her again. He'd affected her in many ways. She was incapable of having a normal conversation with another human being, well other than Rina.
"What's wrong with me?” She felt her face heat up.
"Nothing," he returned quickly.
"Marriage is hard. Honestly, I miss having my wife around. She's a pilot based here in Utah which is why I moved out here, but. . ." He shrugged, then finished, "Regrettably, by the time I got out here, it was too late."
Sophie realized she wanted to talk to him, wanted to tell him about it; at least a little bit of it. It’s nice to have someone else to talk too, she thought. “I never should’ve married my husband. I saw the signs, but I ignored them.”
"It happens. Don't be too hard on yourself, though. It's easy to overlook problems when you're in love. I know."
"You think?" She wondered, a splash of relief reviving her. "I feel like I should’ve realized what kind of man he was. I feel somehow what's happening is my fault." She couldn't believe she spilled so much to him. It felt gratifying. He was easy to talk to.
"No, trust me. It takes two people for a marriage to fail. I thought it was my fault, too, at first. I figured I must have somehow pushed her into the arms of the other man. Finally, though, I realized it was her choice to go after the Restaurant Man."
"Restaurant Man?" she questioned, intrigued.
"Yeah, it's what I call him because she won't tell me his name. I guess he's the owner of some fancy restaurant here in Salt Lake."
A creepy, eerie sensation crawled down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. “Shut the faculty door!”
He burst out laughing. “I like it.”
She laughed, too. “But you don't know his name?"
"No, only he's here in Salt Lake. She's afraid I'd go to his restaurant and cause a scene, and she's probably right."
"You don't know the name of the restaurant either?" she questioned, feeling faint.
"No. Why do you ask?"
She tried to brush the question aside, but he asked again, "Tell me why you want to know. Something's wrong, I can tell."
"It's nothing, really, my husband owns a restaurant here in Salt Lake," she finally said.
"You're kidding me." He sat back, staring at her in amazement. "What are the chances?" He took a long drink, the ice smacked against his lips.
"It's just . . .” She wished he knew the name of the restaurant or at least the guy's name. It seemed like too much of a coincidence.
"What?" he questioned, encouraging her to continue.
"It would be weird if your wife and my husband were having an affair."
"Weird would be an understatement," he responded flatly, finishing his drink. She noticed him watching her with curiosity and wondered if she'd said something wrong. Maybe she’d been too personal, but she forgot her worries a moment later because he changed the subject.
"Have you ever been to New York?"
"No, I haven't. Do you miss it?"
"I do miss some things about it. The people. The energy. Being able to walk to work. Those kinds of things."
"
Oh." She nodded, interested.
Nodding back, he continued, "What I don't miss is the heat and the humidity. Did you know on a hot day with a hundred percent humidity, you can be walking down the street and actually feel the asphalt give under your feet?"
"No. You’re kidding," she answered, laughing a little. The hairs on the back of her neck had settled down and she was once again enjoying his company.
"It’s true. It softens up to such a degree you literally sink in a few inches in some spots."
"Wow, I can't even imagine. How can people want to go out when it’s so hot?"
"I don't know; I guess you just get used to it. Plus, there are so many great things; they make up for the heat. The city feels alive, like it has its own soul. It's really amazing!"
"You make it sound like it is. I've always wanted to go, but haven't had the chance."
They continued talking for a long time. She had to admit she was enjoying herself. He was interesting and fun. She decided she wouldn't tell Rina, though, because she knew she'd gloat.
At around one-thirty Phillip said he had to go and asked if she'd like a ride home.
"I'm not sure," she replied, a little hesitantly, looking for Rina. She got Rina’s attention and put a finger to her watch, tapping it as a sign she wanted to go. Rina shook her head no.
She sighed and said to Phillip, "Sure, thank you."
#
As he pulled into the hotel, he asked, "This is home, huh?"
"For now. I'm still in the process of finding my own place."
"Seems kind of expensive on a teacher's salary."
"I'll manage," Sophie intoned, getting out of the car. Closing the door, she bent down. Phillip rolled down the window, allowing her to lean in. “Thanks for the ride," she said lightly.
"Sure. See you at school."
Chapter 9
"It looked like you had a lot of fun Saturday night," Rina beamed, sitting next to Sophie.
"I had fun, yes. Was that your plan all along, to get Phillip to come over? You wanted to ditch me for your more fascinating friends, right?"
"Well, I had to do something, hon," Rina returned just as sarcastically. "You've been boring me to tears lately."
"I know." she retorted sincerely, letting her head fall to her chest.
"I'm kidding, sweetie. The truth is, I wanted you to have fun. I've been out with Phillip a few times and knew he was harmless and great to be around. He’s fun, right?"
"He is. I had a good time talking to him." Sophie raised her head, knowing they were both joking around. She enjoyed the banter between them. They both did.
"Did he tell you he's only recently divorced his wife, Cynthia?"
"He told me he'd recently gone through a divorce, but I didn't catch her name.
"Kind of sad. I can tell she hurt him. But he's gorgeous, don't you think?"
"He's not bad." Sophie smirked.
"Not bad? Are you kidding? Plus, he can carry on a conversation. He's one of the few men I actually enjoy talking to."
Laughing nervously, Sophie said, "Yes, he’s a talker. I just figured he was talkative because he had a few drinks in him."
"Uh-huh, sure, whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetie." Then Rina leaned down and put a hand on her arm as she continued, "You can't fool me, you know.” She cleared her throat. “And I don’t think Phillip drinks. In fact, someone told me he's a recovering alcoholic. Personally, I think he's one of those few men in the world who aren't afraid to share their feelings."
"Well, it was nice talking to him. He seems like a good person. You want to know something peculiar, though?"
"What?"
"His wife had an affair with a guy who owns a restaurant." Rina stepped back, obviously stunned.
"Don't you think it’s a little weird?" Sophie asked.
"Very weird. Did he say what the guy's name is?" Rina asked, frowning.
"No. He said he didn't know. Said she wouldn't tell him."
"Hmm, interesting. Maybe you two are meant for each other."
"What? How do you figure?"
"Seems like fate, don't you think?"
"Look, Rina, I know what you're trying to do, but it's not going to work. I'm married, remember?" "Technically, yes, but don't you want to know what it's like to have a relationship with a good man?"
"I would, someday, and I appreciate you looking out for me. Don’t push this, though. Please. I'm not ready."
"We'll see," Rina retorted smartly.
"I've got to go to class. I'll talk to you later," Sophie said.
"See you, mama!"
She glared at Rina before casually looking around the room. No one seemed to have noticed anything about the comment. She caught the eye of another teacher, gave her an uneasy smile, then left.
#
Sophie glanced again at the clock. She’d lost track of time and was quickly packing up her bag. It was seven o'clock p.m. and she was still in her classroom at school.
Where had the time gone, she wondered, walking to the door. In the hall, darkness enfolded her.
“Creepy,” she muttered, hesitantly making her way to the end of the hall. Thankfully, the halls were like streets, with a lamp every once in a while, the light emitting a eerie glow. She turned down the hall toward the Theater when she thought she saw the shadow of someone.
"Phillip? Is someone there," she called nervously.
Without warning, the shadow turned into someone. He growled, "Who's Phillip?"
Like a deer caught in the headlights, she wanted to run, but wasn’t sure where to go. Her eyes darted from left to right and her hearing seemed to sharpen, while her heart started racing uncontrollably. Finally, though, her feet sprang into action and she dashed toward the Theater. She remembered they'd been rehearsing for a play and hoped Phillip and his students were still there.
Please be there, she prayed. It was fleeting, though, because the doors were locked.
She shook them and then dreaded comprehension of her predicament settled in. She turned around, facing the man in the shadows who stood there waiting for her, his face covered by a ski mask, making it impossible for her to see it. She thought she recognized the jacket.
With her back against the doors, she slowly inched her way toward the edge of the wall. Fight or flight. Those words kept repeating themselves. Swallowing her urge to scream, she asked, "What do you want?"
He threw back his head and laughed, before responding, "It's not what I want, lady. I'm just doing what I'm paid to do."
She'd reached the point of the wall where it rounded to the next. Without thinking, she started running. She sensed more than heard him coming up behind her.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked wickedly, grabbing her by the shoulders.
"Help! Help, please hel--!" she tried yelling, but was unable to finish because he'd covered her mouth and nose with something. It seemed like gauze or a wet washcloth.
She breathed in whatever was on the cloth. Almost immediately, she felt its effects.
He'd drugged her, she realized, most likely with chloroform. What am I going to do now, she speculated sleepily, her body slumping heavily into her attacker.
Instinctively, she tried to push him away, but her body wouldn't listen to her internal commands. She smelled the sweet stench of cigars clashing with the equally strong smell of stale beer coming from the man who'd captured her.
Ugh, she gagged disgustedly. She tried to yell again.
Before anything would come out of her mouth, he abruptly let go of her and she slumped to the floor. It hurt somewhat, but she still couldn't get her limbs to function.
After a moment she forgot her pain, hearing someone yell, then something sounded like shuffling or fighting. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wanted to get away. Please, God, she pleaded, help me get out of this.
Trying unsuccessfully to roll herself onto her back, she suddenly felt strong hands grip either side of her shoulders.
"No," sh
e tried to scream. A sound must have come out of her mouth because she heard him say gently, "It's Phillip. You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore. I've got you," he said tenderly, picking her up.
Slowly, he began moving down the hall. All of her fears vanished and peace enveloped her. She allowed him to carry her like a child and had almost given in to sleep when she heard him say, "Sophie, I need you to help me. Can you put your arms around my neck?" With every ounce of her willpower, she flung her arms up, grabbing onto what she thought was his neck.
"Ouch." She heard him groan. The idea of causing him pain awakened her somewhat. Feeling a little better, she tried to open her eyes, to see what she'd done to him, but they wouldn't open. With her head resting against his body, she noticed how good he smelled. Gratitude filled her heart. She tried to speak, to thank him.
"What is it, Sophie?" He asked, his breathing labored from carrying her. His breath felt warm against her lips. She lifted her head slightly toward him, trying to face him, when her lips accidentally brushed his. She hadn't meant to, but didn’t move away. She realized she wanted to kiss him. She now knew she had wanted to since the day she met him. He stopped walking.
Surely he would push me away, she thought, and couldn't blame him. She acted brazen and he'd just rescued her. Embarrassed, she started to pull away. Before she could, his lips captured hers, returning her kiss.
His lips were soft at first, but abruptly turned passionate. He tightened his grip around her arm and thigh as their kiss turned sensual. Time seemed to freeze, like they were in a dream. She hoped it wouldn’t end.
Perhaps it is a dream, she reflected happily.
After a time, he slowly pulled away, groaning a little.
She wondered if it was from the kiss or because he still held her. When he started moving again, she heard the sound of sirens in the distance and knew the police were coming.
"They're almost here," he whispered.
#
She tried to open her eyes, an irritating buzz pummeling her ears. After a moment, she realized it was people, several of them talking quickly among themselves. She tried to listen harder, wondering what the problem was.
"Her eyelids just fluttered," she heard a woman say.
Sleeping Roses Page 9
