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The Money Talks

Page 20

by Cherry Kay


  Vaguely embarrassed by the fact that someone might look over her shoulder and see that she was using a silly dating app, Tiffany angled her phone away from the view of other café patrons, and she clicked the icon that opened up her messaging inbox.

  Ugh, she thought as she looked through the stream of guys who looked more like sexual predators or mental asylum escapees than potential dates. It wasn’t that Tiffany was overly shallow, although she did prefer a guy with a nice body and a handsome face, but these people looked downright scary. Most of them seemed to have zero social skills, judging by the vulgar descriptions of what they wanted to do to her body, and she almost quit the app entirely after clicking on the ninth such message.

  Something caught her eye just when she’d thought she’d read enough, and she clicked on one last message from someone with the username ThomasB3. It was pretty common for people to use nicknames or to only identify themselves by a first name and an initial, but Tiffany always preferred to interact with people who didn’t feel the need to hide behind an alias like sexmonster69, or worse.

  Then, of course, was the undeniable fact that ThomasB3 was irresistibly handsome. He was not necessarily sexy or hot like Luke, but there was a depth of character that shone through his eyes. In the profile photo of him, he was wearing a light blue Oxford shirt with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. The snapshot made it look like he was standing in some romantic European coastal town with strong-whitewashed walls behind him, but it was difficult to tell exactly.

  For a moment, Tiffany worried that some creeper had simply copied a photo of a model from a men’s fashion ad, but when she clicked into the profile, she saw other photos that reassured her he was indeed a real person.

  Reading his profile, she saw that his interests were in reading, art, and travel — which would explain the photo — but that it was rather vague on what he did for a living. Judging by his taste in clothing and the places he visited, he didn’t come across as one of those people who didn't care about responsibility and were always living for the moment.

  Although the idea was nice, Tiffany had been turned off by people like that after realizing that she’d never be able to count on them for anything more than a casual fling before they wandered off in search of some new interest. Plus, she got tired of buying them dinner because they claimed to have forgotten to have taken cash out and had left their credit cards at home.

  Everything about ThomasB3 seemed almost too good to be true, but she figured that might have just been in contrast to the abject losers she seemed to have been attracting lately. It was worth a chance, she decided, and she sent him a quick reply indicating that she was flattered by his compliments and that she agreed they might be a good match. As a little test, she asked him what his favorite book was (as a way of checking to see if he actually loved reading, or if he was just one of those guys who put things like that on his profile in order to seem more suave).

  Tiffany hadn’t even finished her latte when her phone dinged to alert her to a new Matchr message. She flicked aside the phone’s lock screen and clicked on the message, surprised to see that it was a response from ThomasB3.

  Great to hear back from you, Tiffany. I just happened to be online and thinking about you when I saw your message come in. Now does that seem like the fates are smiling on us or what? My favorite book is The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad, although I guess that’s a bit of a cheat since it’s only a short story. Still, it’s a wonderfully poignant story of what it means to put your trust in the hands of another. What about you? What’s your favorite book? – Thomas

  Tiffany gawked at her screen. Most people replied to that question with the titles that had clearly been ripped from various Best Books of All Time lists, and rarely did they say why they liked them. Here was a man who’d actually read deeper into Conrad than Heart of Darkness, and he responded so quickly that he couldn’t possibly have pulled that response from any search result.

  Noticing the time, Tiffany typed out a quick reply and hit send. She then set her phone to Do Not Disturb mode, and stuffed it into her purse. There was still an afternoon of work ahead and she already burned too much of the day on Matchr. The last thing she needed now was to be exchanging messages all day with this Thomas person.

  The only problem was that she’d been intrigued enough by his profile and that one short message, to not be able to think about much of anything else as she worked. While one part of her brain worked on font selection and layout, the rest of it couldn’t stop thinking about Thomas.

  She considered herself a modern woman who stood for gender equality and was not so shallow as to judge a person by looks alone. The fact that Thomas seemed comfortably employed and was as good looking as he was, put a big checkmark in the plus column when she considered whether or not she’d say yes to meeting him for a date if he asked.

  Eventually, Tiffany’s focus shifted back to working and away from her dating life, and before she knew it, the afternoon had disappeared and almost everyone around her had packed up and left for the day. Only a few other people sat working at their computers, and it was with some surprise that she realized she’d stayed an hour later than she normally would have.

  The upshot of her extra hour was that she’d gone from being behind on one project to slightly ahead of schedule on that one and another lower priority design that wasn’t due for another week. Feeling satisfied that her manager would notice the hard work she put in to make up for her lateness, Tiffany shut down her computer and left the office to go home.

  Although she planned to wait until she got back to her apartment and her laptop, Tiffany couldn’t wait any longer, and so she checked her phone as soon as she found a seat on the subway. Her phone’s data connection tended to cut in and out on the train, but it had already pulled down a message from Thomas, and she used the short ride to compose a reply. Once she reached her station and saw she had signal bars again, she tapped the send button and slipped her phone back into her purse.

  It wasn’t likely that someone like Thomas would be sitting by his phone or computer waiting for a message from her, but a part of her was disappointed when she’d walked home via the local sushi restaurant, and still hadn’t received a reply by the time she’d sat down to dinner.

  Tiffany dabbed wasabi onto a last piece of tuna sashimi, dipped the very edge of it into soy sauce, and placed it in her mouth. The fish was excellently prepared and practically melted in her mouth. It was sinful pleasure, and paired with a crisp white wine, served as a deliciously decadent pleasure at the end of a long day.

  Tiffany placed her chopsticks on the table and hauled her computer into her lap. When she opened the Matchr site, she saw what she’d been waiting for, and cringed at the thought of it being from one of the disgusting randoms who’d been messaging her lately.

  Just as she’d hoped, it was from ThomasB3, and the short and simple message inside was a request for her to join him for dinner the very next night.

  Chapter2

  Unlike the craft brewery that Luke had taken her to, this restaurant clearly had a dress code that was far stricter. Tiffany had worried that she’d dressed too formally when she chose the sleek black dress she’d bought the year before, but now that she looked around at all the other female diners, she saw that her simple earrings and slim silver necklace made her look underdressed for the occasion. Everyone looked like they were wearing designer labels, and not one of them seemed to have bought anything off the rack.

  The restaurant itself was modern and hopping with activity. She could not believe it when Thomas had told her where to meet him after she declined his offer to pick her up, as The Silver Hare was one of the city’s hottest restaurants. From what she’d heard, most people couldn’t get a reservation here without making it a year in advance.

  “Good evening, madam,” said a woman who looked like she possibly moonlighted as a model or music video backup dancer. Her expression was one of firm professionalism
, as though she expected to have to tell everyone they had no chance of ever getting seated in such a place. “What’s the name of your party?”

  “Norman,” she replied. “Tiffany Norman.”

  “Ah, Ms. Norman,” the girl’s face transformed into a welcoming smile as she continued, “So good to have you here tonight. Your party is already seated and waiting for you.”

  Tiffany followed the woman to a quiet table near the back of the restaurant. It was secluded enough to offer what privacy such an open concept design could offer, yet it wasn’t so close to the kitchen area as to be insulting to anyone who cared about having the best seat in the house.

  A man she recognized immediately as the Thomas she’d seen only in profile photos, rose to greet her with a practiced kiss on the cheek. It caught her off guard a little and she almost turned and bumped her nose into his chin when she expected him to go one way in front of the other.

  “You look beautiful.” He said, before pulling out her chair for her.

  Tiffany sat as he pushed the chair back in. It was the sort of thing she’d only ever seen in movies, and she could not believe that anyone actually did things like that. Then again, Thomas looked considerably more cultured than his profile had let on. He clearly had money and influence, but there was something more that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He wore a modern cut dark gray suit, but instead of a tie, he had the top two buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the slightest bit of chest hair. It was a dashingly handsome combination and it left Tiffany a little flustered.

  “That’s nice of you to say, but I feel a little underdressed.” She said admittedly.

  “Well, you look stunning, so I wouldn’t give it another thought.” Thomas held up a tumbler and rattled the ice a little. “Would you like a drink?”

  He signaled for a waiter, and seconds later one arrived to take their drink order. He asked for a refill on something Scots that she couldn’t have repeated had she wanted to, and she asked for an old fashioned.

  “Old fashioned, huh?” He said when the waiter had left. “That’s a classic drink.”

  “My dad always drank them,” she replied. “I know it’s kind of a guy’s drink, but it makes me think of him.”

  “He’s not around?”

  “No, he died a few years ago. Cancer.”

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry, Tiffany.” Thomas frowned and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. Obviously, it was hard at first, but he was a great dad and he’d lived a good life. Everyone loved him, and I think that’s the best people can hope for in this life, don’t you think?”

  “That’s a wonderful memory to have of your father.” A wan smile formed on his lips. “An enviable memory at that.”

  Not wanting to follow what seemed like a depressing topic, Tiffany decided to change the subject. “I hope this isn’t awkward, but I’ve heard this is one of the most difficult to get into restaurants in the city. How on earth did you manage a reservation on one day’s notice?”

  “Oh, that,” a genuine smile overtook him. “I did a favor for the owner when he was just starting out as a restaurateur. I’m not nearly as important as any of these people, but I do enjoy certain perks that most of them don’t.”

  “Well it’s a heck of a way to impress on a first date.” She teased.

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  A server arrived and set their drinks down on the table, and the two clinked glasses before each taking a sip. The conversation flowed naturally from one subject to another. Any apprehension Tiffany had felt when she’d walked into the posh restaurant full of celebrities and obnoxiously rich people melted away as she got lost in the amazing food and how well she seemed to relate to Thomas.

  They had so many interests in common that it seemed almost unreal they should have ever have found each other in such a large and often impersonal city. Even in the world of online dating, it was difficult to find people who actually matched up to their profiles, and Thomas seemed to be everything and more that ThomasB3 was.

  “I hope you won’t think me presumptuous, but is there any chance I can convince you to come back to my place for a late night swim?” He asked over dessert.

  “A swim?” She said with a giggle. The two cocktails and several glasses of wine she’d consumed with dinner had made her a little tipsy. “Is that a euphemism for something else?”

  “My building has a pool on the roof.” Thomas placed a forkful of chocolate cake in his mouth and watched her as he chewed. “I mean, it’s a shared pool, but no one ever uses it. The damn thing is heated and everything, but it just sits there unused most days.”

  “I’m not sure what you think we women carry in our purses, but I don’t have a bathing suit with me.” She caught her date’s expression and smirked in response. “And to anticipate your next question, no, I’m not going to skinny dip with you.”

  “As fun as that would have been, I’m sure you’ll be just fine in your underwear. Come on, it’s just like wearing a bikini.”

  “My bikinis are not lacy and partially see through,” she replied, earning a raised eyebrow.

  “That settles it. Unless you’re willing to fight me on it, you’re coming swimming with me.”

  Tiffany laughed and shook her head. She knew that this was part of a bigger ploy for Thomas to try to get her into bed, and she fully intended on sticking to her no sex on the first date rule, but how often would she have the opportunity to swim in a roof top pool in the middle of the city?

  “If you really don’t feel comfortable, I understand,” Thomas said. “I’ve had a lovely time with you, and as much as I want it to continue, I’ll be happy to call you a town car to drive you home.”

  “No.” said Tiffany. She dipped a strawberry in cream and then bit into it. She licked a spot of cream off her lips in what she hoped was a seductive gesture. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  ***

  Thomas’s building was modest for the city, but still several steps up in price and location from what Tiffany was used to. She’d never gotten a proper answer out of him in regard to his occupation, and after seeing how unconcerned he was about what must have been an astronomically high dinner bill, she’d decided that he must be an investment banker or something similar.

  She wasn’t sure why he’d want to avoid talking about it, but the fact remained that Tiffany was solidly middle class, and it would be hard for a man like Thomas to be unaware of the general public’s negative attitude towards the rich and those who profited from them. Where some might brag about the millions of dollars of client money they traded at their jobs, Thomas seemed too humble to want to talk about it, and she could respect that, for the time being at least.

  Rather than stop at his apartment, they took the elevator straight to the top floor. Thomas had claimed it would not be fair for him to put on a bathing suit if she didn’t have one, and so they stepped out onto the building-top pool deck still wearing their clothes from dinner.

  Wasting no time, Thomas stripped off his jacket and shirt, kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his pants and socks. When he was down to nothing but his watch and a pair of black boxer briefs, he winked at Tiffany and dove in, creating barely a ripple of a splash as he sliced through the water.

  “Coming in?” He asked when he broke the surface halfway down the length of the pool.

  “Okay, but you have to look away until I say so.”

  Thomas laughed and spun around, treading water and facing the other way while Tiffany kicked off her own shoes and slipped out of her clothing. The dress was so fitted that she’d dared not wear anything but her nicest lingerie beneath it, and she tried not to regret the fact that the pool water would probably ruin them for good.

  At the same time, her light alcohol buzz had begun to wear off a little and she became embarrassed by the fact that she stood on top of an apartment building in nothing but a red lace thong a
nd a rather sheer matching bra.

  Rather than diving in as Thomas had, she tip-toed to the edge of the pool and sat on the edge, letting her legs slide into the water first before she hopped and spun, catching herself before her hair could get wet. The water was considerably colder than she thought it would be and she let out a gasp once she was in and swimming away from the edge in a slow breaststroke.

  “I thought you said it was heated.” She said when she was halfway to where Thomas still faced the other direction.

  He spun around and grinned. “Yeah, that probably was misleading, wasn’t it? They only heat it in the fall and winter.”

  “It is beautiful, though.”

 

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