“Don’t do what Dr. Collins?” I spat aloud in an infuriated tone that I couldn’t suppress. “Don’t talk about how disappointing it was to realize that you were gone after such a wonderful night? You don’t want to hear how I searched for you in the streets of Amsterdam for hours, and how I finally found your hotel, but found out that you used fake names and left no credit card information. You don’t want to know that I hired a private investigator to find you, and how we searched every God-damn medical school in the States with a student named Emma.”
“No, you didn’t!” She uttered in disbelief.
“Oh, yes I did.” I groused back. I couldn’t hold the emotions I held within me for months. “I know that there are over 140 medical schools in United States and about 175 Emma’s. I rode to Columbus, Boston and Baltimore, even flew to Los Angeles, to check some of them.”
“But Dylan, why would you do that? Why didn’t you just let it go?”
“How could you even say that, Emma! What I felt, I am sure you felt too. What we had was wonderful. Beautiful. Magical… but unlike you, I wanted that magic to continue. One day wasn’t enough. I did everything I could to find you.”
“So… your private investigator found me and told you where I worked?” She met my gaze in sad understanding.
“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my PI who found you. It was Max. He was invited to a party downtown and said that he saw you there. At first I didn’t believe him, but then I had to check it out, even if there was a slightest chance that it could be true. By the time I got there, you were gone.”
“I had to work tonight. I left early.”
“Max said you left with a guy, and you two looked close. Do you have a boyfriend Emma?” I checked her hand to be sure she was not wearing a ring. I didn’t know what I would have done if she told me she was engaged or had a boyfriend. “Please don’t beat around the bush… Fuck it! Just say it, if you do.”
“God, Dylan, you are unbelievable. You can’t barge into my life like this and demand answers! It was just one night. How dare you make Max spy on me? What gives you the right to pry into my private life?”
“Emma, just answer it. Damn it.” I straightened myself up, leaning over the edge of the table. I stifled the urge to slam the table with my clenched fist and shoved my hands to my pants, instead. “The guy at the party… was he your boyfriend?” I asked after calming myself. I had no right to demand an answer, but I couldn’t control instantaneous rage and jealousy. I was going crazy just thinking about the possibility of Emma being with someone else.
She swallowed hard and pursed her lips stubbornly. “No! He wasn’t my boyfriend Dylan.” She answered after a long, quiet minute. “Are you satisfied now?” She added looking upset, angry even.
“Who is he, then?” I asked, frustrated that I couldn’t prevent my curiosity to show. “Tell me that you don’t have a boyfriend Emma. Tell me that there isn’t somebody...”
“I don’t have anybody in my life Dylan. Anybody the way you mean.” She replied. “God, don’t you see my life. I work twelve hours in the clinic four days a week and then go to school. The guy who Max saw with me was my brother, Steve. He was the reason why I had to leave you that night in Amsterdam.”
“But why?”
“Because… my brother is an idiot. He had an accident, crashed his car on the highway and got arrested for DUI. He is not even twenty years old and had his second DUI charge in a year. I had to come back and help save his miserable ass from going into jail.”
“Sorry Emma. I didn’t know.” I paused, and sighed deeply. “But you should have told me instead of running away. I could have helped you, helped him! We could have solved all these problems together.”
“No, Dylan, you can’t help me, or help my brother, and we’re not together. There is no us. Why don’t you want to understand that?”
“You know the reason why!" I said in a stiff voice.
“Dylan! Please, don’t!” She interrupted abruptly. She was biting the tip of her index finger nervously. A pair of unblinking wide eyes shifted to my hands. She unclasped them and held them between hers.
“Why Emma? Why don’t you want to hear me?” I asked. My eyes and voice grew increasingly desperate. “All I ask from you is to give me a chance. That’s all.” I begged despairingly. My hands and body felt limp. I didn’t have any strength or desire to stand up and show her that I was okay. The truth was obvious. I was debilitated without her. Didn’t she see that?
It was the first time in my life that I felt this weak and hopeless. I nervously waited for her to say something while she stood in front of me, completely reticent. She put her hand on my arm, caressing gently and the other one, tangling my hair as if she was trying to calm me down before she broke the bad news. She didn’t need to utter a word; her eyes reflected her confused emotions. Maybe she pitied me or felt sorry. I probably deserved to be pitied in such a desperate state. There wasn’t a trace of the mighty, fearless Wall Street businessman in the person collapsed on the chair in front of her. The person looking at her beseechingly was scared like hell to be rejected.
I wondered inwardly what happened to famous Dylan Hamilton. Once a bad-ass bachelor, infamous party boy, enjoying a different girl every night, I never thought somebody could change me so drastically. How did I become this man chasing one girl? It just happened. Nothing was the same since I met Emma. After five long months of agonizing search, there she was, in front of me, and I was willing to bow and scrape, even beg for her to give me a chance, a chance to be with her one more time, while she stood austere, not touched at all.
I waited for her to break the silence as I confined her soft green eyes with my gaze. I wanted her to say ‘yes’. But the longer she waited, I saw that she was getting more reluctant and I found myself utterly unable and impotent to do something. Not even during my dreadful fights with my father had I felt this powerless. During her lingering silence, it didn’t matter that I was one of the most successful businessmen under thirty selected by Forbes Magazine or the part owner and the chief executive officer of Phliant Investments, one the nation’s top twenty ‘up and coming’ companies. Neither the success of my company nor my personal achievements mattered while I was in front of this unpretentious woman, dressed in washed-out scrubs, with hair tucked into a pony tail and a pale, tired face. I owned almost everything that money could buy, but Emma…she owned me, and she wasn’t even aware of it.
Finally, I couldn’t stand the tense silence anymore. “Come on, Emma. Please say something. I am not asking for a lot. How about just dinner?”
“I’ll be here till noon. Then, I will go home and sleep. I have to be back at the hospital by eleven tomorrow night.”
“You still need to eat something.”
“Yes, but I never have time for a sit-down dinner. I usually eat something on the go, or munch from a vending machine.”
“I am fine with that. We can have our dinner on the go, we’ll grab a hotdog or a sandwich. Or if you can spare an hour, I could bring a take-out dinner to you.”
She thought a long second which seemed as long as an hour, and finally said. “You will not take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?”
“See, you already know me!” I grinned heartedly.
“Okay, fine Dylan, you win. Dinner… my house… 8:00pm. You asked for an hour, I am giving you two.” She said, and her lips curved slightly, it was almost a smile. She took a pen from her pocket and jotted down her cell phone in my palm.
“Call me when you arrive. My doorbell is broken.”
“Where do you live?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn?”
“Yes, Mr. 5th Avenue. Do you mind getting out of Manhattan?
“No, not at all.”
She wrote down her street name and number underneath her phone number and smiled playfully. “There you have it. All my information is in your hand now.”
“Yeah, literally.” I said.
“Now, you s
hould go home and sleep. Also, don’t forget to fill your prescription. Start taking them right away. I don’t want to hear you coughing like that again.”
“Ten-four, doctor! I’ll see you tonight.”
“Night, Dylan!” She grinned and sauntered back to the ER, waving me goodbye.
It was pitch black outside when I left the hospital. It was a moonless, cloudy night. My mind was still so occupied with the events of the day that I didn’t want to take a cab back to my place right away. Any other night, I would have avoided the wet, muddy streets, but not tonight. Tonight, the fresh rain smell in the air drew me in. New York City didn’t look gloomy or smothering, instead everywhere I looked, it sparkled. Resplendent icicles dangling on the roof tops, festive holiday decorations on the store windows and bright twinkling lights on trees turned the city into a winter wonderland. After spending many days in dejection, I just happened to notice the beautiful transformation of the Big Apple into the holiday season.
I walked idly on empty streets and thought about all that happened in the last few hours. When I got close to my apartment, I decided to take a stroll in Central Park instead of heading home. I lingered a bit in the park, watched the clouds move slowly, clearing the night sky. I didn’t want to go back home and face Max and his mocking questions.
I regretted letting Max move in with me almost every day. His three story penthouse, only a block way, was under some serious construction and renovation. The rich bastard wanted to have a private indoor pool, as if it was something he was going to use. His instant desire had nothing to do with swimming, he just had to have one after he saw Marcus Lawrence, CEO of KPC investment’s, new penthouse. So, right after we got back from Europe, the construction of his penthouse started, and instead of checking into a hotel and saving me all this grief, Max asked to stay with me. As his best friend, I couldn’t say no. Thinking back, I know now why I didn’t. I was so depressed and moody while searching for Emma that I thought having Max around would cheer me up a little. Unfortunately, as construction got delayed, his supposed-to-be-short stay got longer. After spending four months in the same apartment with the most selfish and arrogant man I knew, I was ready to kick him out.
I got back to my apartment just before dawn, hoping to find Max asleep. I wasn’t ready to be interrogated about Emma.
When the elevator opened to the foyer of my living room, I heard voices in a language that I didn’t understand coming from inside. “What the hell...” I mumbled, wondering if I had a break in, although I knew it wasn’t possible. Russell, our old and faithful doorman, would never let anybody in without checking with the residents first, and only Max and I had elevator keys to the top floor.
The reality hit me quickly when I entered the room. In front of the tall bay windows overlooking the park, I saw Max with a tall blonde girl and a second one on the floor, getting herself ready to be next. His ass was half covered behind the white piano on the marble floor, however I could still see what was going on.
“What the fuck, Max!” I groused at him angrily.
He turned his head around just a little while he continued doing the blonde. “Hey, man…What’s up! I wasn’t expecting you to show up tonight.”
“I see that! Obviously!” I said, totally abhorred and disgusted. I turned around and kept looking at the ceiling, waiting for him to stop while she kept moaning and speaking in a language that sounded like Russian.
“Max!” I shrieked to make him stop, but he was oblivious to my plea and he continued to slam into the girl hard, as though he was having a casual conversation. After a full minute of Max’s silence, the girl’s foreign chatter and various sex noises, Max moaned loudly. “Oh, fuck yes!”
“Are you done?” I yelled at him, completely frustrated. I was ready to punch him in the face and throw him out the door that minute.
“Yes!” He answered back, grinning annoyingly. He shoved the blonde to the side and put on his boxers. “Go to my room.” He ordered to the blonde girl and the second girl followed her, completely confused.
Even for him, he was acting like a complete asshole. He was irrational, not himself. Something was off with him. Then I saw three lines of white powder on top of the glass coffee table, right next to my Van Gogh book, ready to be snorted. Immediately I understood that he was high on coke. “Can you explain to me now, what the hell is going on here?” I asked, pointing at the coffee table.
“I met the girls at Club V and we wanted to continue our party here- Larisa and her friend, Elena from Latvia. Where the hell is Latvia?”
“Max! Enough.” I yelled, frustrated with his nonsense talk.
“Stop yelling. You’re so loud…” He said, and covered his ears with his hands. “My head is about to explode.”
“Oh, God! You’re totally out of it. How much coke did you snort?”
“Just one line. I prepared a line for you too and also brought you a girl. You know… in case things didn’t go well with the doctor at the hospital, but she got bored waiting. I had to step in.” He smirked.
“How thoughtful of you!” I flamed up. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face with my fist but he was so delusional. I knew he wouldn’t even remember getting punched.
“Anything for my best buddy!” He said.
“Shut up and listen now. One… you cannot fuck your girls in my living room. two…you cannot do coke in my apartment. Period.”
“I was in the living room because you gave me a bedroom with no view and I prefer the view from this window. I’m jealous that you have a better view of Central Park than mine. The coke was their idea… not mine!” He said nonchalantly and raised his hand up. There was no point arguing with him.
“You know what Max… I’ve had enough. Today is your last day here. I want you to move out and check into a hotel tonight!” I said resolutely.
“What! Why? … We used to party like this all the time. What happened to you? Let me guess, things didn’t work out with the doctor?”
“This has nothing to do with Emma.”
“So, why then?”
“Because I don’t like this… this fucking life anymore. I want more than sex with a random girl, getting high, throwing money at dumb chicks and parties. I am done. I want out! Sometimes, I feel like I am dying here. I want to sell everything… the business, the apartment, just go away and disappear. Maybe I should just do it.”
“Okay, chill out man. You can’t sell the business. I couldn’t stand anybody else running Phliant. If it bothers you that much, I’ll move out.”
“Yeah…That’s a good start.”
“Are you this pissed because of Emma?”
“No, just the opposite. She is giving me a chance and I don’t wanna screw it up. She can’t ever know about the life I had or all the shit we did. I want a new beginning. I want to win her heart and be with her.”
“You are full of shit, but whatever…If that’s what you want, I won’t stay in your way.”
“Good. Please do that.” I said determinedly.
And with that, I started a new chapter in my life.
CHAPTER 12
DYLAN
Past Manhattan’s vivid, eye-catching skyline, past the Brooklyn Bridge, through the quaint neighborhoods with many historical houses in Park Slope… I was in front of an old yellow house on Tenth Street at seven thirty. Even after I told Jeffrey, my kind, sixty year old driver to kill some time by driving around the block, we were still early. Given the fact that I had an infamous reputation for being late, arriving thirty minutes early for a date was unheard of for me. People are used to waiting for me, since I am a busy guy. Every minute of my time is precious, so I have seen it as acceptable, and totally normal to make them wait. I wouldn’t stand for it the other way around, except for Emma. Yesterday at the hospital was the first time I waited for someone for hours. Today I was trying to kill time again while taking a tour around the park, anxiously waiting for my watch to show eight o’clock.
“Let’s go around the block on
e more time.” I told Jeff after checking my watch. He was probably wondering what the hell was going on with me. I was overly stressed. The irritation and dithering in my voice probably showed it too.
At fifteen minutes to eight, Jeff parked the limousine in front of Emma’s house. I waited another minute by the stairs, however, her neighbors’ curious looks made me feel uneasy. I decided to just knock on her door. I climbed the stairs of her old fashioned Brooklyn house and noticed the hand written note by the doorbell. My grin got wider as I read her note.
“No luck with the bell. Still broken. Try knocking, but I probably I won’t hear it. If you are here to sell me something (except for the girl scouts), leave me a note! Girl Scouts: Sign me up for three boxes of thin mints.”
It was the cutest note one could put out for a broken door bell. That was my Emma. How can you not like a woman like that?
I dialed her number and leaned on the wall, staring at her delicate handwriting. After the third try, she finally answered her phone, “Hi, Emma. I am here. Outside your door.” I said.
“Oh, really. You’re early!” She answered, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, I know… We went around the block and then parked in front of your house. I was going to wait a bit longer but I think your neighbors are getting a bit suspicious of me. A guy, waiting outside with two big bags in the rain… I’m guessing it’s not a usual scene for this neighborhood. I hope it’s okay if we start our dinner early.”
“Of course it is okay, Dylan. Why didn’t you just call me earlier?”
“You said eight o’clock. I didn’t want to bother you in case you were sleeping or resting. You had a long day yesterday.”
“You are silly. I wasn’t sleeping. I’ve been making us dinner. Soup, actually. It’s not ready yet, I am still working on it. Hold on a sec… I am coming right down.”
With that, I heard her footsteps approaching. She opened the door with a spoon in her hand and an apron around her waist. She looked lovely in her dark blue jeans and Columbia University t-shirt. Her auburn hair was tucked in a high pony tail, which made her neck stand out even more.
One Night In Amsterdam Page 11
