Four Reasons to Come

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “I told you she was good,” Wyatt gloated as he sat on the couch not even aware of the dangerous image I had of the shelf toppling over on him.

  “She scares me.”

  “So you’ve got a date with this girl and no idea what she looks like? This should be fun for you.”

  “No Wyatt, this sounds like a waste of my time. Patty is going to send the girl’s portfolio over online, though. So let’s see what she looks like. Any guesses? I’m not judgmental; really I’m not. She sounded nice, and I’m sure Patty found some similarities in our lifestyles, and that was why she matched us up.”

  “Short with big boobs,” Wyatt laughed.

  “I’m open to any type of woman,” I started to say before glancing at the profile Patty sent over. “Oh shit!”

  “What? Let me see.”

  “Wow, she’s a knockout,” I muttered quietly.

  Kristina’s main photo was a full body shot of her in a tiny blue dress that had a flared skirt. She was thin with sexy curves and had blue matching hi-heels on. The picture looked like it might have been a professional photo because of how she was standing and the perfect coloring of her outfit, hair, and skin. She had a small smirk on her face, and I couldn’t help staring at her profile picture for a minute before diving into her main page.

  “What does she do for work? How old is she?” Wyatt asked as he looked over my shoulder.

  “Okay, here we go,” I clicked her page. “She’s thirty years old. A fundraising executive at a local non-profit. She’s funny; oh man, listen to this, ‘I’d like to get away from the cliché of loving New York Theater, but I just can’t. I love all the arts, even finger painting.’ I like her already.”

  “Are there more pictures?” Wyatt asked as he pulled my laptop toward him.

  “Hey, you’ve already got a woman. Get back,” I joked. “This one is off limits.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just trying to help you out. You need an objective opinion so you know if she’s really as beautiful as you think she is.”

  “Shit, look at these. I can’t go out with her,” I mumbled as I pushed my laptop all the way over to Wyatt and stopped reading the profile. “This is crazy. Look at her photos. Look at her profile. There is nothing wrong with her. Nothing.”

  “Why can’t you go out with her? She’s stunning.”

  “Exactly. This is exactly the girl I want. If I could have drawn a picture of the woman I had in my mind since I was a teenager, this girl would be her. Sexy, red hair, professional, funny, and smart. She’s the package, Wyatt.”

  “I think I’m missing something. You’re obviously attracted to her. She seems funny, put together and perfect for you. What’s the issue?”

  “Wyatt! I’m not put together. I joined this Millionaire Match thing thinking it would take me a few months to find the right woman. I would just have fun. Now Patty says I can’t screw these women unless I have a commitment, and she matches me up with what has to be my exact ideal of a woman. How can I not take this woman to bed?”

  “You’re jumping ahead of yourself. Sure this girl looks good. But you don’t know if you’ll have that connection in person. Why not just go out and see how it goes. Plus, maybe you will have a connection, and you’ll want to commit to something more stable.”

  “I can already see what’s going to happen. I’m going to screw her. Patty is going to kick me out. I’m going to go right back to dating wild women from the clubs. Let’s just skip past all of that. The other totally plausible option is that I’m not going to be what she’s looking for.”

  Wyatt started laughing, closed my laptop and walked over to my desk. I was being serious, though. This Kristina girl and I were going to have chemistry; there was no denying that. I already felt like I wanted her after one conversation on the phone.

  “There, I sent her a text message for you.” Wyatt laughed as he stood at my desk and put my cell phone back on the table.

  “What?”

  “This is her number on the paper here, right? I just sent her a text so she has your personal cell. Just in case she wants to talk to you this week. You and I both know you’re going to make that date on Friday. Whatever is going to happen will happen; I think you’re just nervous because you suck at dating.”

  “I don’t suck at dating.”

  “Yes, you do Merrick. I mean you’re good at getting laid, but you suck at actually dating a girl.”

  “I’ve dated girls before.”

  “Not really. You’ve kept women around for a couple of weeks after you screwed them, but that was just so you could keep screwing them. I mean real dating. Taking a girl to dinner, talking about her family, work, and likes; you don’t do that. Getting to know them and letting them get to know you, that’s real dating.”

  “You’re awfully judgmental now that you’ve found your woman.”

  “I know. I’m turning into one of those old men who just try to get all their friends to get married so I have people to hang out with.”

  “I’m not getting married. Remember, replace the R in Rock with a C, that’s the kind of woman I want to hang out with,” I laughed.

  “Ha, I think you will someday. You’re going to find a woman that you’ll be dying to give a big rock to. There will be a woman you meet that you just can’t let go of. The thought of her sleeping with another man will destroy you. The idea of her moving on with her life and you not being in it will be an impossibility. You’ll meet her someday; I promise you.”

  “Wow, you sound like a love struck puppy. I really never thought Dakota had you this far wrapped around her finger,” I laughed as I heard the sound of a text message coming in on my phone.

  KRISTINA: Hey, It was nice talking to you, too. Patty still hasn’t sent me your profile, though. So I’m picturing you as George Costanza from Seinfeld.

  “What did she say?” Wyatt asked. “She text you back already didn’t she?”

  “How do you know it’s her?” I had only looked at my phone, and that was it. I didn’t tell him someone had text me. It could have been an alert from one of my social media apps or something like that.

  “Because you’re smiling like a schoolboy.”

  “I’m not doing this now. Don’t you have work to do? Get back to work,” I said as I pointed to the door, and Wyatt got up to leave my office. “I’ll talk to you later this week.”

  “Fine, but be nice to this one. I’ve got a good feeling about her.”

  “That’s the problem; so do I.”

  I waited for Wyatt to leave my office before returning Kristina’s text message. I typed and then erased my typing a couple of times before I finally settled on a message to send back. I did feel like a school kid. Most of my adult life, I had met women at bars or events. I watched them and decided which one I liked, and then moved in for the kill. This was an entirely new and different feeling. It was exhilarating to talk to a woman who I hadn’t actually met in person yet.

  MERRICK: A little lighter brown for the hair ;)

  KRISTINA: Just as bald, though?

  MERRICK: Maybe. I’m having fun with the idea that you don’t know what I look like. You actually agreed to go out with me without having an idea?

  KRISTINA: Patty matched us up. I think she has good taste. Should I have trusted her?

  MERRICK: I paid her a lot of money to match me up. Us bald guys are hard to get dates for. I’m glad you said yes.

  I couldn’t help keeping the joke going for a little bit. I was probably the exact opposite of the Seinfeld character, but it was fun to play with her. I couldn’t wait to lay eyes on her Friday, though, and found myself sitting and staring at my phone while I waited for her to respond back to me.

  A good twenty minutes went by before I returned to work and had to assume she was busy with her own job. I had never been one of those people who sat and waited for a return message; the twenty minutes I had already put in was long enough for me. She’d message me back when she had more time; I was confident of that.


  KRISTINA: Sorry, I’m busy working today. Text me again another time. Here’s my address for Friday. 815 South 5th Street. I’ll meet you downstairs at 6 p.m.

  MERRICK: Sounds good. Have a good day.

  For the rest of the week, I wrestled with the idea of texting Kristina back again but didn’t think it was a good idea. It was funny that she thought I looked like the bald, fat character off of Seinfeld, although I was sure Patty had given her my profile by the time Friday came around.

  Most women I’d known were constantly texting me. It was me who didn’t return their messages. I was the one who blew them off or forgot to respond. It didn’t feel right having the roles a little reversed. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Kristina, though, and I finally caved in and sent her a message Friday morning.

  MERRICK: My assistant insists that I have to come to your door to pick you up. She’s already told me she will quit if I don’t do it.

  KRISTINA: Your assistant bosses you around like that?

  MERRICK: You don’t know Miss Wendy like I do. She scares me. So I think I should come to your door and pick you up. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.

  I looked up from my desk as Wendy, my assistant returned from the copy room. I really had a lot of work to get done, but I couldn’t tear myself away from the conversation with Kristina.

  KRISTINA: You don’t own any axes do you?

  I laughed out loud as I read her message. If I was some sort of ax murderer, I certainly wouldn’t have paid Patty thousands of dollars to join the Millionaire Matching group. I had to think of a clever response, though.

  MERRICK: I live in a condo, so nope.

  There were no clever responses that popped into my head. Every message I sent to Kristina, I tried to find the perfect wording. I tried to say just the right thing to keep our chemistry going.

  KRISTINA: Fine, but I have cameras throughout my building. They will catch you if you bring your ax. It’s apartment 609. LOL

  MERRICK: I’m excited to meet you. You seem like a fun girl, from your profile and from talking to you and texting you.

  Turning the conversation serious was a little risqué, but I was willing to go there. I was supposed to talk to her a little before our date, but the more I text her, the more I felt like Kristina thought I was some sort of lame guy who did this a lot.

  KRISTINA: I’m actually bald and short.

  “Oh wow, she’s hilarious,” I laughed out loud.

  “Who?” Wendy asked from her desk outside my office.

  “This girl I’m going on a date with tonight. She just told me she’s actually bald and short. It’s an inside joke because I said I looked like George from Seinfeld.”

  Wendy just rolled her eyes at me and went back to working at her desk. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in who I was talking to, but that was probably because she had witnessed a lot of women come and go in my life.

  “This one just might be the one,” I hollered out at her as I came around my desk.

  “What does she say about her mother?”

  “What? I don’t know. I haven’t actually gone out with her yet?”

  “Merrick, you are smiling and laughing like that with a girl you haven’t actually gone out with? Oh, no. And what do you mean by she might be the one? The one for this month?” Wendy laughed at her own joke.

  “Nope, but I’m going out with her tonight. I made her give me her address so I could pick her up at her door and told her it was your idea.”

  “She knows who I am?” Wendy asked surprised.

  “Not exactly. I lied to her to convince her to give me her apartment number.”

  “Oh, yeah. This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. She thinks you look like a television show character; you’ve lied to her already, and you’ve never met her in person. I won’t be holding my breath for you on this one.”

  I had to laugh at Wendy. The way she said it did make things sound pretty horrible, but I was still optimistic about how our date was going to go. There was a repertoire between the two of us; a give and take even in the text messages. I had to hope that she didn’t have an apartment full of animals or some other weird issue that was going to turn me off instantly.

  The rest of my Friday was busy, and I had to put my phone away so I could get some actual work done. I wanted to text Kristina every time I saw my phone and then talked myself out of it because I didn’t want to seem overly eager.

  Me, seem overly eager? That idea was hilarious. I didn’t chase after women. I wasn’t the kind of guy who worried if someone was going to like me or not. This whole relationship was starting differently than I was used to, and I really liked it.

  I pulled up in front of Kristina’s apartment just before six o’clock and had the Uber wait for me as I went up to get her. The high rise building was older than the one I lived in, but the deep brick looked well taken care of as did the lobby area. In New York, you either hired a car for a date or took some mode of paid transportation. In an effort not to look like a rich asshole, I chose the Uber option. Not as cheap as a cab, and not as fancy as a hired driver. I had probably spent way too much time debating which mode of transportation would be best, and I tipped the driver a hundred dollars to wait for me to come back down with Kristina.

  The doorman opened the door for me right away without asking who I was, but there was a locked door that led to the elevators, and I couldn’t get through that one. I had to turn to the phone and find Kristina’s number to get buzzed into the building.

  “Hello,” she answered right away after I dialed her number. “I’ll buzz you through.”

  I quickly grabbed the door after the loud noise emanated through the lobby. I was nervous. For the first time in a very long time, I actually felt nervous about meeting a woman for a date. My palms were sweating, and I found myself pulling my phone out to check if I had anything in my teeth during the ride up to the sixth floor.

  My heart pounded with excitement as I found apartment 609 and gently knocked on the door. First, I put my hands in my pockets, then I held onto them, then I decided on one hand in my pocket and one hand at my side so I’d look a little more relaxed and casual. My fingers shook a little as the adrenaline surged, and I tried my best to look casual while I waited for her to open the door.

  The door opened slowly, and my eyes took in the absolute perfection that was Kristina as she stood in front of me. Her shoulder length red hair had small waves of curls in it, and the light from her apartment reflected off of a few strands. Her lips were plump and covered in a light pink lipstick, and my eyes stayed focused on them as she started to talk. She looked exactly like her photos.

  “Well now, you don’t look anything like an ax murderer,” she said as she smiled at me.

  “Hi,” I managed to get out.

  What was wrong with me? I was a talker. I was known for sweeping women off their feet with my witty repartee and my sense of humor. I was the guy who could talk any woman into coming home with me. Yet there I was standing and staring at this woman like my mouth wasn’t capable of making words come out of it.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Merrick,” Kristina said as she smiled and grabbed her coat from near the doorway. “Should we get going?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said as she locked the door, and we made our way back to the elevator. “I hope you’re a drinker,” I managed to say.

  “Why? Are you planning on getting me drunk?” She laughed.

  Her eyes looked away from mine, and I couldn’t stop staring at her. She had on a little black dress that covered her curves like it had been designed exclusively for her body. Kristina wasn’t showing off a bunch of cleavage like many women did, instead, the dress went all the way up to her neck. The seduction was in how the fabric held against her body, and it was much more powerful than any overtly exposing dress.

  Kristina glanced over at me as she waited for me to respond to her question. I knew I was supposed to say something, but yet again my mouth would not speak
as my mind rummaged through thoughts of what this girl would be like in bed.

  For years, that was all I had been concerned about; how would our night in bed be? I wanted to think like a real date, but I couldn’t just turn off my old habits. I pictured the tiny black lingerie that she probably had on underneath her dress. The feeling of it between my fingers as she lay back in my bed, and I slid each piece of clothing off until she was perfectly naked.

  “Is that a yes?” She laughed.

  “Oh, no. Sorry. I have a reservation for us at the Ice Lounge. I hope that’s alright.”

  “Oh, yes!” she said excitedly and grabbed onto my arm. “I’ve wanted to go there forever but never had the nerve.”

  As her fingers locked around my bicep, I felt a rush hurry through my body and felt a throbbing that was very familiar to me. The unique thing was that I barely knew this girl, yet I was already throbbing and thinking about what it would be like to have her. This was going to be one hell of a first date.

  “I’m glad you’re into it. I just never know what a girl is into.”

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  Kristina looked at me, and her face flushed red before her gaze turned away and she started to giggle. The sweet sound of her laugh and gentle embarrassment of my words were lost on me for a moment until I replayed what I had just said in my own mind.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean that I needed to know what you were into sexually or anything like that,” I fumbled with my words a bit. “I just meant I’m glad you’re into the ice thing. I’m going to be quiet now for a little bit,” I laughed.

  Man, I just kept putting my foot in my mouth. I just couldn’t seem to get the words out in the way I wanted them. I certainly didn’t mean to reference anything sexual when we had only been thirty seconds into our date. Even I wasn’t bold enough to start a date off that way.

  “It’s okay. I’m into all sorts of things; maybe I’ll tell you about them later.” She winked and then walked toward the doorway of her building.

  Man oh, man! Did this girl just say what I thought she said? Kristina didn’t strike me as a woman who was wildly aggressive or flirty, so her comment had blown me away. Honestly, everything about her was blowing me away.