The Despair of Strangers

by Heather Topham Wood

  “I’ve had it turned off,” I admitted.

  “Because you didn’t want to talk to me? Did I say something wrong on Saturday?”

  I bit down hard on my lip before answering. “Derek, I like you and I thought we could be friends, but after meeting, I’m not sure if that’s possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I feel something more for you than friendship.”

  “Good because I feel the same way.” He nodded, leaning forward. “I was actually worried you weren’t attracted to me.”

  I blew out a long breath. “Derek, be for real.”

  “I am. I thought that the avoidance was to let me down easy. I’m relieved that it’s actually because you can’t control your attraction to me.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t say that.”

  His smile was cocky. “Don’t be modest, I feel the same way about you.”

  My cheeks burned at the compliment. “You don’t have to say that. I know we became friends, so maybe you feel it wouldn’t be chivalrous to not be interested now that you see me—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “Did I ever tell you how much I really, really despise your ex?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “He has messed with your head for so long you can’t even believe when someone says you’re beautiful.”

  My shoulders stiffened. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m not—”

  “Alyssa, I wanted you before I even knew who you were. You must realize that?”

  “What?”

  “How many times do you think I’ve approached a woman at an event?” I shrugged in response. He continued on. “Never. Not once and I’ve been doing these things for years. My agent and publisher thought I lost it when I said I wanted to give you a book.”

  “I thought you were just being nice, like good PR or something.”

  He shook his head. “No. I saw you and I had to talk to you. I’ve never had that before, this instant attraction to someone at my readings. I looked out and saw you in that yellow shirt. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how you looked staring up at me from the audience. I couldn’t even focus for the rest of the time on anything but you.”

  “I had no idea.”

  His look was too intense, too unwavering, as if he were silently telling me I was the only thing worth looking at. “I wanted to ask you out, but you seemed scared of me or maybe repulsed. Plus, you held me back from making a move.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Well, A stopped me from asking you out. I just didn’t realize I was talking to the same person.” Before I could respond he added, “So, I’m feeling pretty damn lucky the woman I thought was beautiful at my reading also happened to be the same woman I have built this connection with over the summer.”

  I smiled shyly at him, feeling heated to my core. I wanted him, I wanted him badly, but I had to think rationally. “Even if we do have an…attraction for one another, I don’t think it’s a good idea to explore it.”

  “We like each other, find each other exceptionally attractive, but you don’t think we should go out on a date. Why?”

  “Because?”

  Derek guffawed. “Because? Your actual reason for not dating me is just because.”

  “Because,” I said pointedly. “Because you’re not ready to date. We’ve talked multiple times about how much you’re not ready to date.”

  “I would normally agree, but this is different. It’s you.” He leaned closer over the table as he lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. “I can’t explain it completely. Maybe because we talked first and got to know each other. We already went through the awkwardness of messy backstories. We were real on the phone and it made me feel connected to you in a way I haven’t felt since Emily died. I want this, whatever this could be with you.”

  “But your messages to her…” I trailed off, knowing no further explanation was needed.

  He looked pained for a second before taking a deep breath. “We should’ve talked about the messages sooner. But after we got close, I really wished you never saw them at all. Because I could see how they looked from your perspective. How could I want to date after writing those words to someone else? But just because I felt those things at the moment, doesn’t mean I’m incapable of other feelings. Those texts were just a small part of my life.”

  “I could understand, though, if you were conflicted. I wouldn’t blame you. You haven’t been with anyone for a long time, so being unsure about me makes perfect sense.”

  His thick lashes went hooded as he stared across the table. “I’m not the one who is unsure here.”

  “Good point. You’re the writer. What’s the word for someone who does more than second-guess everything? A triple guesser?”

  “I do know that quality about you. Understanding that I needed to pursue you, convince you to give me a chance, only proves we could work. Maybe I’m deluded, but I feel like no one else understands you in the way that I do. And you get me like no one else can.”

  I nodded because how could I not agree? I felt exactly the same way about him. After breaking up with Jake, I couldn’t imagine having any kind of spark with someone new. But after talking to him over the last few months, he made me feel assured I could absolutely move on.

  “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “There are other things that make me think it’s not a good idea.”

  “What things?”

  I colored as I revisited the things in my head. “You know…stuff on the phone. We got…sort of personal at times.”

  His grin was sudden and mischievous, making me want to smack the smug look off of his face. Well, most likely let him kiss me first and then smack him. “Are you embarrassed we touched ourselves while on the phone?”

  I did smack his arm. “Derek, god stop, what if someone hears you?”

  He laughed, making a show of glancing around the empty tables surrounding us. He didn’t respond, but looked me over with heat. I could feel his eyes as if they were caressing my skin, working their way down from my lips to the dip of my breasts. He didn’t rush through his perusal, almost savoring the experience. My skin tingled in anticipation. “Stop thinking about it,” I hissed back at him.

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  Before I could argue, the bell sounded at the front of the restaurant and a family of three walked through the door. Taking the minute to calm my racing heart, I then turned to give him a strained smile. “I have to get back to work, but my answer is yes if you’re still asking. We could get something to eat together.”

  “Great,” he said, shooting me what I realized was a real smile. His public smiles lacked as much warmth and personality. They were the same smiles I had fixed on my face while entertaining the rich friends of my family. For some reason, I liked the rarity of his smiles. As if each one he would give me held special meaning. Maybe we were both capable of bringing each other stolen moments of pure happiness.

  I expected him to leave after my agreement to a date, but he reached to the seat next to him and started to pull out his laptop from a black messenger bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll wait for you to get off. Well, as long as you don’t have plans after work?” I shook my head. “I’ll write in the meantime.”

  “You’ll work here?” I asked, disbelief coloring my tone.

  “Sure, why not? I should be a paying customer, though. Can I have a coffee and what would you recommend to eat off the menu?”

  “How’s your cholesterol?”

  He snickered. “Good, I believe. Surprise me, just nothing with mushrooms. I detest the things.” I rose up from my seat as he opened his laptop.

  I looked around again at the restaurant and then back at him. “Are you sure you’ll be able to work here? It’s not exactly quiet. My apartment is a couple blocks away. I could
give you the key.”

  “Are you inviting me back to your place?” His eyebrows lifted as he turned to me.

  “No,” I huffed. “I mean, yes, but only until I get off of my work.” Irritated he flustered me, I shot him a glare. “But I rescind my invitation. You’ll have to work here now, even if it’s noisy and you’re likely to come across one of my customers who will want to talk your face off about your books.”

  Turning on my heel, I stomped over to Jenny. “Sorry I didn’t grab the menus for table two. Did you get their drink order?”

  “Alyssa, it’s dead in here. I got this. Clock out and have lunch with your man.” She peeked around my shoulder to look at Derek, who was already typing away furiously.

  “He’s not my man, but if you’re sure I’m not needed, maybe I’ll have Ahmed make us a couple burgers.”

  “Take them to go, girl. Wouldn’t you rather be alone with him?”

  “Not sure if I trust myself alone with him.”

  Jenny giggled. “I get it, you want to take it slow, but I felt the heat from here coming off of the two of you.”

  I leaned in closer to her. “He’s hot, right?”

  “Yup, very, very hot. It’s so odd, though, because he doesn’t have that nerdy author look I’d expect. I pegged sci-fi authors as flabby geeks with big glasses and receding hairlines. I assumed Star Trek themed porn was the only time they saw girls naked.” As I rolled my eyes, she added, “But he’s all smoldering with that body. Good God, he must work out all the time.”

  “I’m not sure. He sounds regimented with his writing, so maybe he has that type of personality.”

  “The personality that believes in exercise?” She laughed before continuing, “I’m not complaining, though, and I’m sure you won’t be either once you see him naked.”

  “No comment. Thanks for covering, I’m going to put the order in with Ahmed.”

  I took my time bringing the burgers out. First, I headed to the employee bathroom to see if I could salvage my appearance. Derek showed up five hours into my shift—I had to look like hell. Cringing, I noticed my straight hair had started to frizz and stick up out of my ponytail. Using a couple of splashes of water to smooth it down, I then dabbed on lip gloss that I had snatched out of my purse. My uniform was thankfully clean, although snug around the chest and skirt. I needed a size larger, but Dee never got around to getting me a new outfit.

  While hanging around the back, I told Ahmed to push the burger orders to the rear. Not only did I aim to give Derek time to work, but also time for myself to relax over his surprise visit. Honestly, I liked that he sought me out because it meant I mattered. He wasn’t playing games—I knew that for sure. My reservations were valid, but he was into me. That much had to be true.

  He wasn’t anything like I guessed. We met as sad, broken things and I didn’t expect him to turn out to be so kind and considerate. He was handsome, smart, and wealthy. He could have anyone. But he was never able to make another connection after Emily. Except with me.

  Yet, I wouldn’t make the first move. I’d go on a date with him, but he would have to decide how far he wanted to go physically. Because I never forgot a word he said. I didn’t forget how he felt revulsion and shame on his date with another woman. I wouldn’t kiss him, thinking he was wishing I were her.

  Derek was typing away as I dropped the plates on the table and sat down across from him. Noting his full coffee cup, I realized Jenny must’ve been over for a chat. I prayed she was polite enough not to mention Emily. If we wanted this to work, she couldn’t always be in the air between us. I wouldn’t pretend she didn’t exist, but I didn’t want us to play relationship counselors any longer.

  He peeked his head around his laptop. “You’re joining me?”

  “Yup. Jenny’s going to take over my tables. It’s not exactly busy anyway, so she’ll get more tips.”

  Nodding, he returned to his typing. “This doesn’t count as our date.”

  I rolled my eyes, although he wasn’t looking at me. “We’re eating together, right? And you’re paying, so sounds like a date to me.”

  “What should we do after here, then? Or do you plan to disappear again?”

  “No, smart-ass. I’m not sure, maybe we could go somewhere to talk.”

  “I’m in. I don’t even know your last name.”

  I cringed, biting the inside of my cheek. “Actually, we do need to talk about things, including my name. We should go somewhere private.” Remembering his promise to give me a Jersey shore experience, I suggested, “I haven’t been to the beach yet. Might be nice at sunset.”

  “Great, let me save my progress and I’ll get back to it later.”

  “Don’t stop working on my account. Who knows when literary genius will strike again?”

  He shook his head before asking, “Are you certain? Seems kind of rude to sit here and work when I have you across from me.”

  “Continue whatever you’re working on and we’ll go after.” He seemed awkward for a minute and I could tell he didn’t have the same upbringing as me. He wasn’t drilled social etiquette into his brain like it was a religion. But I liked that about him. I liked he wasn’t a master at the art of fake social graces. After another hesitation, I motioned for him to continue. He started to type once again.

  I took a bite of my burger, deciding to remain quiet. I felt a little strange, sitting across from him while he worked. I wasn’t sure if I should stare at him or look around the room. His burger and onion rings sat untouched at the side of his laptop, which was mildly irritating. I had ordered fries with my burger and tried to give him the better of the two side options. Not to mention, the longer we sat here, the colder the food would get. Figuring he was too engrossed, I snagged several onion rings off of his plate.

  As I was tearing apart the onion rings, he stopped typing to look over at me. “Did you just steal my food?”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “You’re not even eating them.”

  “But you’re only eating the breading off.”

  I shrugged. “Onions are gross. You could have them if you want.”

  He shook his head while looking at the greasy onions left behind on my plate. “No, thanks.” He looked me over before closing his laptop and pushing it aside. “Sorry, I get caught up sometimes and I feel like if I don’t get the words down on paper, I’ll lose it. But I finally have a chance to talk to you face to face and I feel like I’m wasting the opportunity.”

  “It’s fine. You look really intent. Must be a good part. Is this book eleven you’re working on?”

  “No, that’s finished and in edits. This is the last book.”

  I lifted my eyebrows up and down. “That’s exciting. How’s it all going to end?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why not?” I demanded playfully. “I know I haven’t read the books yet, but I plan to very soon. But first, I have to decide if the ending is worth reading all twelve books.”

  “Fine, the war decimates the planet and makes it inhabitable for everyone. The humans and Sohorians all die.”

  I gape at him, ready to launch a fry at his face. “That’s awful. I can’t believe you’d do that to your readers!”

  His serious expression transformed into a teasing one. “I’m messing with you. That’s not how it ends.”

  “You’re not funny. I was really upset there for a minute. I feel invested in these books now. You can’t ruin them for me. Actually, you should write me into the last book.”

  “I should, but not sure how I could fit you in.”

  “Don’t they have alien restaurants on your made-up planet? Make me the intriguing alien waitress who may hold the answers to stopping the war. The humans sound like trash in your stories, so definitely make me an alien.” I gave a satisfied nod before returning back to my burger.

  “I met Jenny. Am I right to guess she’s your friend who tried to set you up?”

  “Yes. She’s actually the first friend I made here. I
didn’t know anyone, so she introduced me to everyone. I never waitressed either, so she put me through serving boot camp too.”

  “She obviously cares a lot about you. She may have positioned the pot of hot coffee over my crotch while making me promise never to hurt you. I’ve had my manhood threatened twice in one day about you. I’m glad you made good friends here.”

  I blanched. “Sorry, they mean well.”

  “No, I’m happy for you, Alyssa. You need people to look out for you. From what you told me, you never had that before.”

  I wanted to ask him if he would also look out for me. Could I trust him? Was he truly ready to date or would he end up hurting me in the long run? I didn’t have to be his forever. I understood he already had that kind of love with Emily. But I also didn’t want to be used, a stepping stone out of his grief.

  After we finished eating, I walked with him back to my apartment. My car was unreliable at best, so most days I walked the short distance between work and home. At first, I thought of telling Derek to wait in his car, but I caved the last minute and invited him up. There was no way we were driving to the beach and hanging out together when I smelled like fried cheese. I would have to take a quick shower and change first.

  My place was small and he took up so much room—his height and his presence. But I liked him there too. It felt right for him to be in the space I spent so many nights texting and talking to him. I didn’t let my thoughts dwell on the fact it was also the space I cried out from a shuddering orgasm at his command.

  He was quiet in my apartment, looking everywhere, taking it all in. I’d always been a neat freak, so I hadn’t worried about the space being messy. There wasn’t much in the way of personal effects. I definitely hadn’t packed any photos when I left Fairlawn. Instead, there were flowers everywhere, gifts from Birdie when she didn’t sell out her bouquets.

  “I’ll just be a sec,” I said, grabbing some clothes out of my dresser in the bedroom and rushing into the bathroom. I didn’t linger in the shower, just a quick rinse-off to remove the diner smell. I dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, matching his casual clothes. He was sitting at my kitchen table, looking at ease when I came out to rejoin him.