Yes, there are.
“But I’m not sure I want to be with that sort of guy for keeps,” I say.
I’m conflicted about this, of course. My head tells me I shouldn’t be even hoping that this will be like a normal boy-girl relationship. And yet –
I’m over-analyzing stuff again. I should simply be in the moment. Enjoy things for what they are. Not manipulate stuff or worry about things I can’t control.
That’s my own good advice I should be taking.
“Oh my God,” Deanna says, looking at her Guess wristwatch. “It’s seven o’ clock!”
I panic.
Right on cue, the doorbell rings.
9
I’m all flustered, and so Deanna sprints to the door. Our tiny apartment suddenly feels like a furnace.
What am I doing in this dress?
“Hi,” I can hear Deanna saying in a voice that may possibly be brighter than a 100 Watt light bulb. “Would you like to come in? She’s just getting ready.”
“Nice flowers,” says a male voice.
I go weak-kneed. It’s inconceivable that his voice can do this to me – but it does! And he’s come to fetch me himself, not send some flunky or aide.
I rush out of the bedroom. And there he is – Alexander Vassar in the flesh. Alone.
Suddenly he’s plain Alex again – the Alex that I’ve fucked the very first time I saw him, and the Alex who tried to seduce me in his hotel bedroom. The Alex who seems to desire me like no other guy.
He seems as stunned as I am.
“Wow,” he says. “You’re so beautiful.”
I can’t take my eyes off him too. He’s insanely and beyond beautiful. He’s so glorious that it hurts to look too long at him. His longish hair is a little disheveled, and the rest of his face and body is simply . . . well, Deanna can’t stop gluing her eyes to him either. He’s dressed fittingly in a suit that shows off his broad shoulders. His shirt is white and his jacket and pants are charcoal.
His blue-green eyes are mesmerizing. And I can’t help it. When I look at him, I think about sex.
Now I remember why I succumbed to his kiss in the restroom. I remember clearly, so help me.
I attempt to make a coherent sentence. “Uh, Alex, this is my roommate, Deanna. Deanna, Alex.”
“Hello.” Alex appears to recover some himself. Amazing! To think that I have actually impressed him with the way I look!
Deanna gives him a hug. “Well . . . hello.” It isn’t just Alex. She’s one of those touchy-feely people who hug everybody, so I won’t hold it against her.
“Thank you,” she says after she lets him go. She turns to me, makes a funny face and mouths ‘hot hot hot!’
“So . . . you ready to go?” Alex says.
“Yeah, sure.”
I make to walk confidently forward and almost trip on my dress.
Alex proffers me his arm. I take it, feeling self-conscious and more than a little dazzled.
“So . . . how did you know my dress size?” I say.
He dips his eyes knowingly up and down my body. “Let’s just say I made a wild guess. No. Seriously. I called up Housekeeping and asked.”
He called up Housekeeing and asked for my dress size? OK . . . I don’t know how to feel about this. On one hand, it’s flattering. On the other . . . it’s just obsessive.
How can a guy like this be so totally obsessed with me?
“So where are we going?” I say.
He winks. “It’s a surprise.”
10
I’m prepared to be surprised, but I wasn’t expecting this.
We are in a stretch limo, chauffeured by a driver who wears dark glasses against the setting sun. When the limo goes farther and farther out of the city limits, I begin to be worried.
“Where are we going?”
Part of me expects to be kidnapped, because this man – gorgeous as he is – is so unpredictable. He makes me tense every second I’m with him, and I honestly don’t know what will happen next.
He smiles at me, and it’s like the sun has gone up again. “It’s still a surprise.”
We rev into a moderate-sized airfield, and a plane is on the tarmac with all its engines on.
I’m immediately alarmed again. “Where are we going?”
“Up in the air.”
That’s obvious.
It’s also obvious that this is a private plane, because it has the Moldovian crest on it. (Yes, I Googled.) The driver stops the car. Alex gets out, comes round to my door and opens it for me. Charming.
“Are you trying to impress me with your good manners?” I say.
“I believe I am.”
He gives me his arm. This is an official date and I’m enjoying myself so far, so I take it and let him lead me to the steps of the plane, which is a Boeing 737.