airport.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, honey. Men are men. Gay, straight, it doesn’t matter. We all have one thing in common and one thing that drives us. And from what I see, he wants to be driven and he wants you to shift the gears.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” I attempt to sound disgusted but he knows better.
“I just call it how I see it. I’m sure he would be more than happy to clear out those cobwebs floating around in there.” He waves his hand down toward my lap. “I’ve given you the talk more than once about what men like. You’re more than ready.”
“Steven, you know I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t? There’s a difference. You need to figure that out,” he states firmly.
Part of me sometimes wonders what it would be like to have someone whose arms I could run to; someone to comfort me, encourage me, hold me when I need it most. Maybe after all these years of therapy, I’m ready. Even though Dr. Hunter, Steven and my mother have been encouraging me, I don’t know if I can bring myself to be with someone.
“I used to think I’d never figure it out, but Dr. Hunter helped bring me out of that way of thinking. However, I’m not ready to jump in the deep end. You know better than anyone my reasons. If I jump too soon, I’m afraid that girl I once was will surface and the woman I’ve tried so hard to become will disappear.”
“You have too strong a support system for that to happen. I wish you wouldn’t doubt yourself. You can’t close yourself off from the world forever. You are so tenacious and confident when it comes to your career, why can’t you be that way in other areas of your life? You’ve spent the last ten years working on your emotional baggage. Don’t you think it’s time to clear it all out, set it on the curb for the trash man and move forward?”
“I know this. I’m scared. You have no idea how scared I am. I don’t think I could handle rejection. It would crush me.”
“Ali. I hate to say this, but rejection is part of the process.” His eyes well up with tears because I know we’re no longer talking about me. “Can we drop this now? Let’s enjoy our dessert, then we’ll go to the bar by the house and get smashed.”
“Sounds good to me,” I’m thankful the topic is now closed. Steven needs to get drunk, and after the past couple of days I’ve had, so do I.
While we wait for the valet to bring the car, Bryce and his sidekick Mara walk out of the restaurant. His posture is rigid and he looks uncomfortable.
CHAPTER 7
The silence is thick. Neither Bryce and Mara, nor Steven and I, make conversation. I feel someone is trying to burn a hole right through me. Looking to my side, I see Mara’s obvious hostility toward me. Bryce grabs her hand and tugs it, hard enough for her to become off balance. He looks at me apologetically, but I shrug my shoulders and turn away from him, hopping in Steven’s car without looking back. She seems like one crazy bitch.
Opening one eye, I look at the time: nine-thirty. The sun is blaring through the sheer curtains in my room, making it extremely hot. I’m still in my clothes, but my shoes are off. When did we get home? How did I get in my bed? I have no recollection of anything past midnight. My head is throbbing and I swear someone’s in there mining for diamonds. I force myself up, and after splashing cold water on my face, taking a couple of ibuprofen, and brushing my teeth, I almost feel better.
In the kitchen, Steven is whistling, chipper as anything. I collapse on a chair and hold my head in my hands. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” he asks, way too cheerful.
“I don’t know. Obviously like the dead since I can’t remember coming home. How did we get home?”
“Well, after your sixth lemon drop shot, plus the Absolut and tonic’s you were downing, I figured I better get you home while you could still
“How do you know?”
“Oh, honey. Men are men. Gay, straight, it doesn’t matter. We all have one thing in common and one thing that drives us. And from what I see, he wants to be driven and he wants you to shift the gears.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” I attempt to sound disgusted but he knows better.
“I just call it how I see it. I’m sure he would be more than happy to clear out those cobwebs floating around in there.” He waves his hand down toward my lap. “I’ve given you the talk more than once about what men like. You’re more than ready.”
“Steven, you know I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t? There’s a difference. You need to figure that out,” he states firmly.
Part of me sometimes wonders what it would be like to have someone whose arms I could run to; someone to comfort me, encourage me, hold me when I need it most. Maybe after all these years of therapy, I’m ready. Even though Dr. Hunter, Steven and my mother have been encouraging me, I don’t know if I can bring myself to be with someone.
“I used to think I’d never figure it out, but Dr. Hunter helped bring me out of that way of thinking. However, I’m not ready to jump in the deep end. You know better than anyone my reasons. If I jump too soon, I’m afraid that girl I once was will surface and the woman I’ve tried so hard to become will disappear.”
“You have too strong a support system for that to happen. I wish you wouldn’t doubt yourself. You can’t close yourself off from the world forever. You are so tenacious and confident when it comes to your career, why can’t you be that way in other areas of your life? You’ve spent the last ten years working on your emotional baggage. Don’t you think it’s time to clear it all out, set it on the curb for the trash man and move forward?”
“I know this. I’m scared. You have no idea how scared I am. I don’t think I could handle rejection. It would crush me.”
“Ali. I hate to say this, but rejection is part of the process.” His eyes well up with tears because I know we’re no longer talking about me. “Can we drop this now? Let’s enjoy our dessert, then we’ll go to the bar by the house and get smashed.”
“Sounds good to me,” I’m thankful the topic is now closed. Steven needs to get drunk, and after the past couple of days I’ve had, so do I.
While we wait for the valet to bring the car, Bryce and his sidekick Mara walk out of the restaurant. His posture is rigid and he looks uncomfortable.
CHAPTER 7
The silence is thick. Neither Bryce and Mara, nor Steven and I, make conversation. I feel someone is trying to burn a hole right through me. Looking to my side, I see Mara’s obvious hostility toward me. Bryce grabs her hand and tugs it, hard enough for her to become off balance. He looks at me apologetically, but I shrug my shoulders and turn away from him, hopping in Steven’s car without looking back. She seems like one crazy bitch.
Opening one eye, I look at the time: nine-thirty. The sun is blaring through the sheer curtains in my room, making it extremely hot. I’m still in my clothes, but my shoes are off. When did we get home? How did I get in my bed? I have no recollection of anything past midnight. My head is throbbing and I swear someone’s in there mining for diamonds. I force myself up, and after splashing cold water on my face, taking a couple of ibuprofen, and brushing my teeth, I almost feel better.
In the kitchen, Steven is whistling, chipper as anything. I collapse on a chair and hold my head in my hands. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” he asks, way too cheerful.
“I don’t know. Obviously like the dead since I can’t remember coming home. How did we get home?”
“Well, after your sixth lemon drop shot, plus the Absolut and tonic’s you were downing, I figured I better get you home while you could still
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