conversation,’ I recalled. I settled on a harmlessly beige silk blouse
and tucked it into high-waisted black pants. My lipstick slid on darker than I
expected, and I turned it over to check the name: Vamp . I yanked a tissue from the counter and held it to my lips but
stopped short. The color was so vivid against my white skin that it almost
looked theatrical. I let the tissue fall into the trashcan, deciding that maybe
I’d be someone else tonight.
After
clasping on a gold necklace and stepping into heels, I gave myself a once-over
in the bathroom mirror. I drew my hair away from my face and instantly released
it, feeling exposed. My wristwatch – a black leather Movado from Bill on
our second anniversary – read eight o’clock. I bundled into my coat,
hiked up the collar, and decided a walk would be a welcome way to soothe my
nerves.
On
the way, my emotions ping-ponged between excitement and fear. I wondered if I
could actually go through with this, if I’d actually go in and sit down and
wait for him. I rarely backed down from a dare, but this was a different type
of risk. What harm can come from talking
to him? Putting an end to things?
When
I found the bar, I realized why he had chosen it. Stone steps at the entrance
led underground; at night, a place where people could spend the late hours as
someone else; in the day, a place to hide from the unrelenting sun. I looked
down the stairwell that faded into black, and the low swollen notes of a saxophone
drifted up, beckoning me inside. The jazz looped through my ears and into my
head, creeping into the dark corners of my mind. Like a devil on my
shoulder, it willed me to take a step .
My
eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t do it. I’d come too far in life to throw it
down this stairwell. My watch read ten ‘til nine. I’d been standing there for
almost five minutes, entranced by the music. If I went back now it’d be as
though I’d never left. Yes , that’s what I’ll do , I decided, turning
to leave. And, as though he’d written it himself, he was there to catch me in
his arms, his face so close to mine that I could feel the heat from his mouth
on my forehead.
“You’re
early,” he stated, the words resting against my skin. My insides twisted at his
electric touch. His rough, tanned skin, dark with the shadow of fresh stubble
was close enough to kiss . . . .
I
jerked away suddenly, but he reached out like lightening and caught my wrist. I
went to pull back when I realized why; I was teetering at the edge of the
stairs, the darkness ready to break my fall. When I caught my balance and he
let go, we descended into the shadows together.
~
I watched
him signal toward me from across the room, and the bartender nodded. His stroll
was cool and controlled as he traversed the space between us, as if he did this
type of thing every night. I twisted my lips and ignored the thought.
Now
alone, we were an anonymous couple in the small crowd, cloaked in nothing but
candlelight. I looked down at my hands in my lap as I fingered my winking ring.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” I said to the table.
“You
look beautiful.” When I didn’t respond, he joked, “The bartender said. He
wanted me to tell you.”
I
suppressed a smile and tugged on my right earlobe. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
“To the bartender,” I added and looked imploringly at the waitress, who was
unhurriedly making her way toward us. I caught her double take as she set my
wine glass down and fixated on David. Appraising him slowly, she reached over
his shoulder to place a tall glass of dark beer on the table. Something about
the way she let her long hair graze his shoulder made me squirm. He thanked her,
and she idled just a moment before slinking away. I immediately reached for my
glass for a soothing gulp.
“Shiraz?”
I asked, inhaling. He smiled gently and nodded, appearing to sense my
discomfort.
“So,
Olivia.” There it was again, my name, but not like I’d
and tucked it into high-waisted black pants. My lipstick slid on darker than I
expected, and I turned it over to check the name: Vamp . I yanked a tissue from the counter and held it to my lips but
stopped short. The color was so vivid against my white skin that it almost
looked theatrical. I let the tissue fall into the trashcan, deciding that maybe
I’d be someone else tonight.
After
clasping on a gold necklace and stepping into heels, I gave myself a once-over
in the bathroom mirror. I drew my hair away from my face and instantly released
it, feeling exposed. My wristwatch – a black leather Movado from Bill on
our second anniversary – read eight o’clock. I bundled into my coat,
hiked up the collar, and decided a walk would be a welcome way to soothe my
nerves.
On
the way, my emotions ping-ponged between excitement and fear. I wondered if I
could actually go through with this, if I’d actually go in and sit down and
wait for him. I rarely backed down from a dare, but this was a different type
of risk. What harm can come from talking
to him? Putting an end to things?
When
I found the bar, I realized why he had chosen it. Stone steps at the entrance
led underground; at night, a place where people could spend the late hours as
someone else; in the day, a place to hide from the unrelenting sun. I looked
down the stairwell that faded into black, and the low swollen notes of a saxophone
drifted up, beckoning me inside. The jazz looped through my ears and into my
head, creeping into the dark corners of my mind. Like a devil on my
shoulder, it willed me to take a step .
My
eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t do it. I’d come too far in life to throw it
down this stairwell. My watch read ten ‘til nine. I’d been standing there for
almost five minutes, entranced by the music. If I went back now it’d be as
though I’d never left. Yes , that’s what I’ll do , I decided, turning
to leave. And, as though he’d written it himself, he was there to catch me in
his arms, his face so close to mine that I could feel the heat from his mouth
on my forehead.
“You’re
early,” he stated, the words resting against my skin. My insides twisted at his
electric touch. His rough, tanned skin, dark with the shadow of fresh stubble
was close enough to kiss . . . .
I
jerked away suddenly, but he reached out like lightening and caught my wrist. I
went to pull back when I realized why; I was teetering at the edge of the
stairs, the darkness ready to break my fall. When I caught my balance and he
let go, we descended into the shadows together.
~
I watched
him signal toward me from across the room, and the bartender nodded. His stroll
was cool and controlled as he traversed the space between us, as if he did this
type of thing every night. I twisted my lips and ignored the thought.
Now
alone, we were an anonymous couple in the small crowd, cloaked in nothing but
candlelight. I looked down at my hands in my lap as I fingered my winking ring.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” I said to the table.
“You
look beautiful.” When I didn’t respond, he joked, “The bartender said. He
wanted me to tell you.”
I
suppressed a smile and tugged on my right earlobe. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
“To the bartender,” I added and looked imploringly at the waitress, who was
unhurriedly making her way toward us. I caught her double take as she set my
wine glass down and fixated on David. Appraising him slowly, she reached over
his shoulder to place a tall glass of dark beer on the table. Something about
the way she let her long hair graze his shoulder made me squirm. He thanked her,
and she idled just a moment before slinking away. I immediately reached for my
glass for a soothing gulp.
“Shiraz?”
I asked, inhaling. He smiled gently and nodded, appearing to sense my
discomfort.
“So,
Olivia.” There it was again, my name, but not like I’d
Similar Books
