“I don’t know your number. Things are going well with Alex, huh?”
“Is that what you came here to talk about? You couldn’t just ask him?”
“He’s not one to kiss and tell.”
“No, that would be you.”
“And you know this…how?”
In no mood for games, she just stared at him. Then probably conceding that she’d relied on hearsay to determine his level of integrity, she blew out a heavy sigh and opened the door. “I can only spare a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” He stepped inside. Other than the beige leather sofa and an oak coffee table to his left, he noticed an exercise ball alongside some light iron dumbbells and a jump rope in the middle of a gray carpet. The flat screen television across from him had paused on the fitness trainer as she reached her arms around her head. A beige recliner sat opposite him, behind which stood a small dining room table with an overhead light.
“What do you know about me?” he asked.
“Other than you’re Alex’s best friend? Only that you sleep with women and dump them shortly afterwards.” She leveled him with an intense gaze, revealing that she didn’t approve of people like him. More likely, she had met her fair share of men who came and went.
And yet, Damon never perceived himself as being that shallow. If he couldn’t talk with a woman, they weren’t compatible. If they didn’t enjoy at least some of the same things (music, movies, books, sports, museums, concerts, etc.), they weren’t compatible. If they didn’t have the same values about family or money or the way they viewed the world, they weren’t compatible. And yes, if they didn’t enjoy a healthy sexual life, they weren’t compatible.
Nonetheless, he took umbrage to the notion that he mistreated women. If anything, he did them a favor by breaking it off before wasting their time; he knew just as well as everyone that the honeymoon phase would eventually end, allowing both partners to see the relationship clearly and giving them the opportunity to realize that they weren’t meant to be together.
Ever since Damon got his heart crushed over a decade ago, he approached each woman with a critical eye, one that allowed him to see what the relationship offered in terms of love and friendship, not to mention a willingness to start a family. And each time, very early in each relationship, he came away disappointed.
Until he met Kelsey.
“You forgot one,” Damon said. “Without me, you’d still be best friends with Alexander, and you would never know that he was capable of becoming Alex – the man you care for in more ways than just a best friend.”
Marisa, leaning against the recliner, slipped at mention of how Damon had helped her boyfriend change into the man she’d always needed. She fell into the seat, sending it rocking.
“And do you know what that tells me?” Damon asked. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
As the recliner slowed, Marisa’s gaze softened at the idea that she might have judged him without even knowing him. She sat up straight in the chair and faced him. “You may be right. But I’m still wondering why you came by.”
“Kelsey blew me off yesterday. I’d like to know why.”
“You came here because you’re upset a girl didn’t want to go out with you?” Marisa began laughing. “That doesn’t seem to match your reputation.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
She analyzed him.
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of.” He shrugged, willing to put it all on the line. “I can’t change the past. But I can change the future…because I have changed.”
Marisa continued scrutinizing him for a sense of sincerity.
“Justin Bieber: after he got real popular, he acted like a privileged little idiot. Sometime later, he realized that he didn’t like how he’d treated others. He’d lost an important part of himself. He did some soul searching and discovered that he didn’t like himself, so he changed.” Damon suspected that Kelsey felt something towards him. He just didn’t like the idea that she turned him down because she had the wrong impression about him, and he needed her to see him as the man he was at this point in time, not the person he’d been years ago.
“So, you’re a Belieber, huh?” Marisa couldn’t hide a smile.
The question sent a shiver through him. “Hell, no! I’m just saying if a little runt like that can change for the better, why can’t I?”
She nodded. “Okay, point taken.”
“After you left, we…had a fun conversation. It happened again at PetSmart, of all places. We made a connection. But I’m convinced that she thinks I’m some kind of jerk who sleeps with women then dumps them.” He never kept score or bragged about the women he’d dated. He trusted his heart to tell him when something felt right or wrong. Women did the same thing. And when they broke up with a guy after a short courtship, men didn’t call them cold and calculating and only out for sex. Damon hated the double standard.
“She thinks you’re a player. Alex told her all about you.”
Damon felt anger burn inside him. “He knows who I am. He knows I don’t go around looking to score with every woman I meet.”
Marisa no longer looked hard and cynical. “That’s the impression he gave us. Why don’t you ask him yourself why he doesn’t want you to date Kelsey?”
“Every brother is protective of his sister.”
She softened a bit more. “Well, he is very protective of Kelsey. She’s been burned before. A lot. He thinks she deserves the best man in the world.” She remained silent for a couple seconds. “It took guts to come here, especially knowing that I didn’t think too highly of you.” She inspected his face. “I respect that. And I think maybe Alex was being too tough on you. But Alex should think that Kelsey deserves the best man in the world. So you’ve got to ask yourself: are you that person?”
Damon didn’t even need a second to frame the answer he kept to himself: I’m going to prove to her that I am.
* * *
Kelsey put in twelve hours Sunday and worked another ten hours on Monday – in order to spend the evening with Paul that night. To quell her nerves, she went to the gym for an hour and did some strength training then got home and had just enough time to eat a bowl of Cheerios with a few slices of banana, a couple hard-boiled eggs, and a Lime flavored yogurt. Most would wonder why she’d displaced breakfast for dinner, but she liked each of these foods as part of a meal or a snack.
Afterwards, she freshened up, but her skin looked too pale and pillows sagged under her eyes. Okay, “pillows” might be a stretch, but she hated that bags, however slight, had developed there. They would only get thicker and more prominent with age. How much would they droop when she turned eighty? At that age, she could probably store Oreos up there! Not only that, but her hair also looked thin and lifeless. She added some product to make it look thicker, but it didn’t do much. And look at that blemish on her cheek! She applied foundation to conceal it and added a deeper shade of lipstick to draw attention away from the offending blemish.
She added a pair of triangular earrings and a matching necklace before checking her white blouse and black skirt that felt a little tight around her waist (which she prayed was due only to bloating instead of weight gain). Overall, if judges could rate her appearance, they would give her seven out of ten. That didn’t do a lot for her confidence. Nonetheless, she did her best to disregard her shortcomings as she drove to Congo River Golf.
Half an hour later, she arrived at the miniature golf course, where players journeyed from tropical landscapes and up hills towards waterfalls in an “adventure you won’t forget,” or so the website stated. She hoped for an unforgettable night. It would be so great if Paul turned out to be as smart and fun as he seemed when they had met a couple days ago.
“Kelsey!”
She turned to find Paul walking towards her with an uncertain smile. Wearing a black button-down shirt with thin purple lines running vertically across it, jeans that hugged his legs, and a pair of black, conservative loafers, he
looked decent, respectable, and nice.
But her heart rate didn’t trip a bit upon seeing him. Kelsey felt a little let down by that, but she ignored her lack of chemistry and met him with a grin. She couldn’t expect a connection upon first, or in this case, second sight, could she? Although she did with Damon Durant. “Hi,” she said. “How are you?”
He stepped up to her and hugged her with some hesitation, barely touching her body as though expecting her to push him away. “Wow, you look fantastic.” He took in her appearance and his smile grew larger.
And that’s when she felt a little something in her stomach turn a bit. Not exactly a flip or even a somersault. But it had to count for something.
Paul gestured towards the entrance and led the way. “How was the rest of your weekend? Save any more dogs?”
It made her think of Damon’s dog, Max. She recalled the way he looked back at her before returning to his owner, which of course brought her attention to Damon. Kelsey wiped his image from her mind. She planned to spend the evening with a good man who didn’t wander from one woman’s bed to the next. Nevertheless, she felt a stab of guilt for thinking about a different man than the one she now walked beside.
“No luck there,” she said. “But I put in over twenty hours at work over the last two days so it’s been worth it.”
“It must be stressful juggling two restaurants without managerial help. Are you interviewing any candidates?”
Startled that Paul knew that she hadn’t hired a manager for either location, she gave him a skeptical glance. But she’d probably told him on Saturday that she’d interviewed over a dozen applicants in the past month and offered the job to one candidate, but he had backed out after she disclosed the annual salary. Although disappointed, she refused to settle for applicants who didn’t have the necessary experience and skills, so the search continued.
“How do you do it?” he asked as they stepped up to a park entrance ticket booth. After paying, Paul handed her the pink ball and putter the park’s employee gave him.
Kelsey accepted both. “My staff at the diner knows what they’re doing and I trust them. Besides, most of them need the extra hours, and the restaurant is small enough that it doesn’t demand too much oversight.
“I respect that so much,” he said, “running two restaurants at the same time. That’s a lot of dedication and hard work. It has to be tough.”
“I have a lot of energy. I eat well and I exercise. That gets me through the long days. Other than that, it’s fun even though it can get exhausting working so many days straight.”
“The life of an entrepreneur.”
“Glamorous, huh? Don’t think I’d be doing an episode of “Behind the Restaurant” – even if VH1 made a spinoff of Behind the Music. Besides, I haven’t led a life of drugs and debauchery, so I don’t think I’d be up to their standards.”
“That’s too bad. I expected a hell-raiser or at the very least, a rebel. But nope, you’re not what I’d hoped for.” He gestured to the employee sitting in the booth at the front of the park. “Do you think it’s too late to get a refund?”
She looked sympathetic. “Architects aren’t known for having a great sense of humor, are they?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said. A moment later, as though noticing a misstep, he said, “Since I wouldn’t know what a good sense of humor sounds like, being an architect and all.”
Something about his response felt off kilter, but she presumed that Paul might just be a little uneasy, similar to when they first met. But if it continued, she would end up a little high-strung herself, which would no doubt destroy any chemistry they might have.
“Bad joke, I guess,” Paul said, shrugging it off as he led her to the first hole. “Have you ever played before?”
“Many times. It’s a fun date idea.” She dropped her ball on the Astroturf, aimed for the hole about fifty feet away and around the corner, and putted. The ball sped away and banked off the side wall. It curved toward the hole and stopped a few feet away. “So what do you do for fun?”
Paul placed his ball on the green, lined up his shot, and putted. The ball rolled down the fairway, hit the wall, curved toward the hole…and dropped in the hole. “For fun, I play miniature golf on the pro circuit.”
“Get out,” she said, amazed that he scored a hole-in-one on his first shot. She reached her ball and aimed for the hole but missed. “Are you serious?”
“No.”
She chuckled. “You’re such an ass.”
“Thanks, I don’t get many compliments on my backside. Usually, it’s that I’m so intelligent. And that gets boring, so it’s nice to hear a more frivolous endorsement.”
In response to his comment, she jokingly punched his arm. “I did not say that you have a nice ass.”
“No, that wouldn’t be PC on a first date. But that’s what you meant.” He leaned close, held her gaze for a moment, and grinned at her. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.” Paul glanced behind them. “Looks like you’re holding up another group behind us. You’re not one of those high-maintenance women, are you?”
“No.” Then she gave it some more thought and decided not to lie. “Okay, it takes me some time to put my face on. And to pick out the right outfit. I can be a little picky with food. So, maybe I’m mid-maintenance.”
“Darn. I specialize in high-maintenance. But I don’t have any experience with mid-maintenance. I guess we’ll just have to see how things go.”
She picked up the ball without having sunken it.
“And you just cheated right in front of me. I can’t believe it.”
“That I cheated or that I didn’t hide it?”
He stared at her as though she’d just stolen an ice cream from a toddler.
“Now look who’s holding up the group behind us.” She nudged him toward the next hole and followed as he led the way before taking his time setting up the next shot and carrying through with it. She asked, “What else do you do for fun?”
“High-intensity stuff. Sky-diving. White water rafting. Bungee jumping. Water skiing. That sort of thing.”
“Really?” she asked, shocked. She would have figured Paul as the type to play board games, which she counted as one of her favorite pastimes. By contrast, she felt boring and uninteresting. “Do you like sports?”
“Football. My favorite team is the Steelers, but I also really like the Packers.”
She felt her pulse rising – in a fun but challenging way. “A cheesehead! Just great.”
“You’re a Bears fan, I take it?”
“Forever.”
“I’m sorry to hear you root for losers.”
“We’re not losers. We had some poor management in the front office.”
“Behind every Bears fan is a dozen excuses why their team never wins.” He shook his head in distaste. He said in a whiny voice: “We had one bad quarterback after another for twenty years.”
“We would have won more than one Super Bowl if one of your players didn’t slam our quarterback to the ground and break his collarbone – well after the play ended. Jim McMahon was never the same again. What if the Bears did that to Brett Farve or Aaron Rodgers?”
He gave her a noncommittal stare. “I don’t condone such dirty tactics, but Kelsey, that was in 1986. Since then, my team has won two out of three trips to the Super Bowl. And yours lost on their only visit.” He pointed to the ball in her hand. “If you’re afraid to keep playing because you think you’ll lose, I completely understand. After rooting on losers for decades, I’m sure that takes a mental toll. It’s probably difficult to conceive of winning at…anything.” He unveiled a wide grin.
Anger rose in her chest, and her heart rate sped up. She dropped the ball, unwilling to let him know how much he’d gotten under her skin. “I’m going to win this game. And when I do, you’re going to apologize.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Over the next forty-five minutes, they learned a little more about each oth
er. Paul had three sisters and they, along with his parents, lived in Pittsburgh where he grew up. He’d lived in the Chicagoland area for three years, and he hoped to start a family of his own one day when he met the right woman.
He led throughout the entire game – now only by one shot – going into the eighteenth hole, which would mark the end of the game. He’d dialed back his somewhat antagonistic attitude a bit while describing some of his experiences (collegial years spent working to maintain a 4.0 average instead of partying, building up an impressive retirement fund, instead of taking vacations since he hadn’t found someone special to share them with, and now played an active part in the Big Brother, Big Sister program).
And Kelsey really enjoyed getting to know a type of person she hadn’t yet met: responsible but a little edgy, cocky in some instances while humble in others, challenging yet not too competitive. But one characteristic overshadowed all others: he was caring and wanted to meet that special someone to spend his life with.
Paul motioned to the layout of the final hole, where the green stretched thirty feet ahead, only to drop out of sight before curving to the right on a small patch of turf. “The pressure is on,” he said. “Why don’t I go before you this time? It’ll drag out the suspense.”
“I get it,” Kelsey said. “The tension is killing you. Basically, you’re scared. Okay, I’ll let you off the hook. Go right ahead.”
“I’m doing this for you. I’d hate to have you take five strokes on this one and then have to stand by as I beat you. This way, it’ll give you more incentive to try and beat me.”
“You can’t fool me,” she said. “You’re just not good in high-stake situations, and you want to get it over with sooner rather than later.” Kelsey pointed her putter at a spot on the ground. “I’ll let you go ahead.”
“I try being a nice guy, and you turn it into selfishness. You’re really something.” His playful smile lingered as he held her gaze.
One Last Promise (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 2) Page 6
