threads. Dark gray True Religion slim fit jeans, a dark blue
Bugatchi Uomo form fitting shirt with a black silk Boss leather jacket over it.
“I’m looking for Ivy Deene.”
“And you are?”
I hesitated. I really didn’t
want to give this guy my name. I didn’t want her to be forewarned. In truth, I
wasn’t sure if she’d even see me. Fuck it. I wasn’t sure what I was even doing there.
“A fan. Just a fan.”
“Well fan, Just a fan, I’m
sorry but only authorized personnel are allowed back here. You’re going to have
to wait outside at the side exist to see Ms. Deene.”
I shrugged. Relegated to
being with the rest of the masses. What the hell! I turned around and made my
way outside. The one thing I’d never been accused of being was part of the
masses. I could have gotten back in and snuck past him, but I had another idea.
I existed the building and walked past the alleyway where the crowd waited for
her to come out. All of them wanted to see the great ballerina, perhaps get an
autograph or picture with her. I knew the feeling of being on the receiving end
of adulation well. I continued walking until I got to the end of the block and
found a restaurant. I went in and there might have been people ahead of me, but
I palmed the host a hundred dollar bill to be seated immediately. He smiled.
“Table for one?” he asked.
“Two.” I hoped.
He took me all the way to the
rear of the place. I scanned the restaurant for any familiar faces, there were
none, nor did I expect there would in this part of town. The man stopped at a
booth that could have easily sat four, but it was separated a little from the
other tables. Good. I sat down. The host handed me a menu and set another one
on the table, then left. Only one thing to do, I pulled out my phone and turned
it on. I had turned it off earlier while in the theater, and because I didn’t
want my world to intrude on the brief interlude. I had two missed calls from
Joe, as many messages and four texts. I ignored them all; they all said the
same thing. Nothing I wanted to deal with yet. I sent Ivy a text, set the phone
on the table and waited. My heart drummed against my rib cage in its bid to be
set free.
Me:
‘I’m here. Carmines. One block from the theater.’
The waiter appeared and
poured water in the glasses, I waved him off. My eyes on the silent phone. Five
minutes and the phone screen was still dark. No reply. Instead of the drumming
against my chest something else began to take root in my gut. How long should I
wait? What the fuck, I shouldn’t even be here now and I damn well knew it.
Fifteen minutes later I rose from the table and tossed some cash on it. “Fuck
it!” I whispered and walked out of the restaurant just as a black limo pulled
up to the curb in front of the place. Stupid ass that I was, I froze. This was
New York; limos were as plentiful in this town as trash on the ground. Yet I
couldn’t move.
The driver got out and came
around to the rear door. He opened it up and all I saw was this black short
high heeled boot, attached to a long graceful caramel-colored leg, I knew that
leg. The rest of her emerged and my gaze travelled across the leggings she
wore, the short skirt to the short leather jacket, up past her slender neck
until I rested on her face. And it knocked me back in time. I stepped out of
the doorway of the restaurant and approached her. It was only then I realized
since she’d gotten out of the car she hadn’t moved. I registered that she
hadn’t been alone in the car. There seemed to be a few other people in there
with her. They didn’t get out and I paid them no more attention. I was there
for one reason and she stood in front of me. I stood there like an idiot
staring at her, but then she had remained frozen too checking me out as I did
her. I wondered for a fleeting moment what she saw. I was no longer the boy
she’d once known. I was a man now. And she no longer that young ballerina just
beginning to fly. She
Bugatchi Uomo form fitting shirt with a black silk Boss leather jacket over it.
“I’m looking for Ivy Deene.”
“And you are?”
I hesitated. I really didn’t
want to give this guy my name. I didn’t want her to be forewarned. In truth, I
wasn’t sure if she’d even see me. Fuck it. I wasn’t sure what I was even doing there.
“A fan. Just a fan.”
“Well fan, Just a fan, I’m
sorry but only authorized personnel are allowed back here. You’re going to have
to wait outside at the side exist to see Ms. Deene.”
I shrugged. Relegated to
being with the rest of the masses. What the hell! I turned around and made my
way outside. The one thing I’d never been accused of being was part of the
masses. I could have gotten back in and snuck past him, but I had another idea.
I existed the building and walked past the alleyway where the crowd waited for
her to come out. All of them wanted to see the great ballerina, perhaps get an
autograph or picture with her. I knew the feeling of being on the receiving end
of adulation well. I continued walking until I got to the end of the block and
found a restaurant. I went in and there might have been people ahead of me, but
I palmed the host a hundred dollar bill to be seated immediately. He smiled.
“Table for one?” he asked.
“Two.” I hoped.
He took me all the way to the
rear of the place. I scanned the restaurant for any familiar faces, there were
none, nor did I expect there would in this part of town. The man stopped at a
booth that could have easily sat four, but it was separated a little from the
other tables. Good. I sat down. The host handed me a menu and set another one
on the table, then left. Only one thing to do, I pulled out my phone and turned
it on. I had turned it off earlier while in the theater, and because I didn’t
want my world to intrude on the brief interlude. I had two missed calls from
Joe, as many messages and four texts. I ignored them all; they all said the
same thing. Nothing I wanted to deal with yet. I sent Ivy a text, set the phone
on the table and waited. My heart drummed against my rib cage in its bid to be
set free.
Me:
‘I’m here. Carmines. One block from the theater.’
The waiter appeared and
poured water in the glasses, I waved him off. My eyes on the silent phone. Five
minutes and the phone screen was still dark. No reply. Instead of the drumming
against my chest something else began to take root in my gut. How long should I
wait? What the fuck, I shouldn’t even be here now and I damn well knew it.
Fifteen minutes later I rose from the table and tossed some cash on it. “Fuck
it!” I whispered and walked out of the restaurant just as a black limo pulled
up to the curb in front of the place. Stupid ass that I was, I froze. This was
New York; limos were as plentiful in this town as trash on the ground. Yet I
couldn’t move.
The driver got out and came
around to the rear door. He opened it up and all I saw was this black short
high heeled boot, attached to a long graceful caramel-colored leg, I knew that
leg. The rest of her emerged and my gaze travelled across the leggings she
wore, the short skirt to the short leather jacket, up past her slender neck
until I rested on her face. And it knocked me back in time. I stepped out of
the doorway of the restaurant and approached her. It was only then I realized
since she’d gotten out of the car she hadn’t moved. I registered that she
hadn’t been alone in the car. There seemed to be a few other people in there
with her. They didn’t get out and I paid them no more attention. I was there
for one reason and she stood in front of me. I stood there like an idiot
staring at her, but then she had remained frozen too checking me out as I did
her. I wondered for a fleeting moment what she saw. I was no longer the boy
she’d once known. I was a man now. And she no longer that young ballerina just
beginning to fly. She
Similar Books
