Ain't Gonna Kiss You
Chapter 4
"Hey, Keen…"
"Hey…"
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah…let me just grab my keys."
Liz hadn't expected to see Ressler at her door, and by his shy discomfiture upon seeing her, she was tempted to ask if anything was wrong. He had picked her up countless times before, and the usual custom was that he'd call her on the phone, with the terse declaration that he was waiting in the car. He had never, not even once, had come up to her door to pick her up, and not that she had ever expected him to. Coming up to the lady's door to escort her signified an established understanding…of certain courtship intimacy…of a nature which she'd never presume between her and Ressler. Perhaps he thought this was an occasion called for such a gesture; he did call it a date once, but since then he was quick to call it a favor upon a partner. No, this was not a date…not in that strict sense of the word, or of any sense whatsoever.
She was in firm belief that Ressler was just playing the part of a grateful beneficiary, and mindlessly followed him down the corridor of her apartment building. She even allowed him to open the double-door for her, but that trivial custom she was willing to accept without hesitation, for he had done that countless times before. But when he opened the car door for her, Liz didn't mean to, but her steps halted in befuddlement and caution. As this was the very first time that he had opened the car door for her, such a gesture absolutely threw all her faculties in a spin of perplexity. Just what the hell was he thinking? What did he think this was…a date?
"Are you alright?" He peered into her face and sought her downcast eyes, "Is something wrong?"
"No…no…"
"Jesus Christ, Keen…are you gonna get all weirded out every time I do something remotely gentlemanly?"
Nope, this was not a date…what was she thinking? "Can't help it if your sudden manners throw me off."
"Well, get used to it. We are going to a wedding after all."
"Didn't think a brute beast can be refined for any occasion."
"Funny…"
Ressler got into the car and started the engine, but paused a bit before the car lurched ahead, "Anyway, Keen…thanks again for doing this. I really do appreciate it."
"It's not free, you know…you owe me."
"And I'm sure you'll hold me to it," he smiled just as he stepped on the gas pedal, "By the way, I don't know if I told you…the wedding is in Lexington Park."
"No, you didn't tell me…"
"The drive is about two hours."
"Great…" Liz wondered what other detail he'd be telling her at the last minute…he did talk to her about the wedding merely two days ago. So typical of a man to be so conveniently and dimly forgetful.
"So…I thought maybe we can discuss what we should say to people," he glanced at her quickly at the red light.
"What we should say?"
"All of my friends are bureau agents…needless to say, they are sharper than they look."
Her face bore a sharp scowl, with an unconcealed guise of objection, "What…are you afraid that I may say something that would embarrass you?"
"No, it's so that we can give them a…coordinated information."
"A what?"
He exhaled deeply as if he was annoyed at her inability to understand, or her inability go along with whatever he was trying to do without arguing. "Let's just…first off, you should call me Don…or Donnie."
"Donnie, huh?"
"All of my academy buddies call me Donnie," he shot her a brief side peek. "You could stick with Don."
"Yup, I think that's best."
"And…how should I introduce you?"
"Partners…what else?"
He bit his lower lip, as if thinking over what she had just said. And she could already tell that he wasn't pleased with her quick answer, "Don't you think that sounds awkward?"
"I mean, that is who we are. What other option is there?"
"We're at a damn wedding, for cryin' out loud." He shook his head in firm resolution, "Hey everyone, this is Liz…my bureau partner. Does that sound right to you?"
"Co-worker?"
"Great…everyone, this is Liz, I work with her on the same floor."
"Fine…how about colleagues?"
"That's about as sterile as work acquaintances."
"Oh, Jesus…" Liz didn't think this day had to be this complicated, "How about friends?"
"Friends…" He mulled it over while scratching his chin, "That sounds like some damn chick flick. Do I look like I'd bring a friend to a wedding?"
"Then what the hell would you like? This isn't exactly a date, you know."
"I know that…"
"How about just Liz?" She was now becoming downright flustered, "Introduce me as Liz…just that, nothing more and nothing less."
"Nah…my buddies…they're gonna be wondering just who the hell you are. They're going to interrogate me until I tell them something more."
"Tell them you met me at work."
"And?"
"That's it. Let them draw their own conclusions if they want to."
"It's not that simple, Keen." Ressler scoffed at Liz with disapproval, "You don't know these guys…they're gonna suspect something's up."
"That's their problem. Let them think whatever they want to…you just don't make a big deal out of it. They'll drop it eventually, all mysteries become dull after awhile."
"No…no…these guys are going to hound me until…," he halted suddenly, as if he was struck by a flash of brilliance, "I have an idea…but you're not gonna like it."
"What…what is it?"
Ressler checked her face with cautious hesitation, and when he was met with a probing glare equally as cautious, he muttered, "Nah…it's nothing."
"What is it? Tell me…"
"It's nothing…," but his tone was light and tenuous, as if the idea was not a nothing after all. "It's actually pretty…stupid. But it'd shut them up for sure."
"Great…now I can't wait to hear it."
"Just go with it, will ya, Keen? It ain't gonna kill you…"
"Fine…whatever. What the hell is this idea?"
"Relax…"
"I am relaxed!"
"Alright, alright…just hear me out," Ressler cleared his throat, in a odd show of fumbling timidity, "I'm gonna tell my buddies that I am…interested in you, and that's why I brought you to the wedding."
"Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of a joke?" Liz knew her tone was too harsh, but if he thought she could be strung along for some frat boys' game of chauvinist wager, he had no idea what awakened beast was coming.
"Hey, before you get all G.I. Jane on me, listen…"
"If you're gonna reference me, I prefer John McClane…"
"Fine…John McClane," Ressler snorted with a faint chuckle. "Look, if I tell my buddies some made up stories about who you are, they're gonna know right away. They could sniff my lies like a dog on a Kibbles and Bits."
"By that logic, they're gonna know you're lying…because your supposed interest in me is…"
"Right, but it isn't something that I have to try so hard to pretend…"
"What?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't know what you mean."
"Jesus, Keen…this sixth sense of yours is not only overrated, but it's close to non-existent." He turned to her with an accusatory glare, "Or do you just enjoy giving me a hard time?"
"The latter. Definitely, the latter."
"I suppose I was the fool to ask," he shook his head in a mild jest. "As I was saying, it's an easier sell if I pretend to have an interest in you…I just have to be nice to you for the next four hours."
"While I'd be curious to see how you could pretend to be interested in me, for the next four hours, as you say…but is this really necessary?"
"Keen…you don't know those guys. They're gonna know something's up between us if I don't say anything."
"And the concept of two people being…just friends…is absolutely a foreign idea."
"Basically. And you thought I was the brute beast…you're about to meet the entire litter."
"Wonderful…and how do you guys compete with all the other Renaissance men?"
"A what?"
"Nevermind."
Although Liz felt quite at unease about the idea of pretense, she found herself oddly relegating to the suggestion that was borne of Ressler's mind that took to regard his pack of unrefined cavemen friends. It was for mere hours of an afternoon, after all. And it sounded like the pretense aspect solely belonged to Ressler, as she was only required to be the compliant object of his affection. Really, there was nothing demanded of her at all. It wouldn't be that bad…would it? What can possibly go wrong?
"I'm just curious," she broke in after some time of silent drive. "How many weddings have you gone to?"
"Let's see…Wells, Buckanski, Martinez, Harris, and hmm…just about eight. Eight in total."
"Woah, that's quite a few."
"Yup. Everyone's getting old, you know…and settling down."
"And how many women have you brought to these weddings?"
He paused in a quiet contemplation, and kept his eyes fixed upon the road, "You're the second woman, Keen."
"Oh…" She shouldn't have asked that…she should've known it would be Audrey. Damn it…and now what must she say? "I see why your buddies would make such a big stink of you bringing me today."
"Yup."
"They want what's best for you."
"Yeah…they may not be refined, as your definition goes, but they're good guys. I grew up with them, and I trust them with my life."
"And now they're settling down, getting married…having kids…"
"Yup, the bastards…"
"And I bet they're eager to have you get married off, too."
"Hence the cousin thing."
"You know," she tapped his shoulder playfully, "who knows if she turns out to be an attractive lady?"
"Nah…I'm not doing any of that at a wedding, when just about every nosy eyeballs are on me."
"You should at least check her out."
"Keen…you should know, that's not my style."
"What is your style, Ressler?"
He chuckled with a wide grin, but didn't offer a reply to that inquiry, as she had expected. She had to take a lesser road approach, "So, speaking of settling down…"
"Jesus, Keen…I knew this would happen."
"What?"
"Stuck in a car for two hours…I knew you just couldn't resist the chance at third degree…"
"Hey, I'm just trying to have a conversation here."
"Right…"
"If I have to sit through this wedding, sit through your buddies oggling at me…which I'm sure they will…and sit through pretending to be the object of your most unfortunate affection…"
"Geez, thanks…"
"The very least you can do is let me be entertained, for once." Liz stated resolutely, "And one more thing…due to the previously stated stipulations, I believe I call the shots now."
"So, now you're the boss, is that it?"
"That, I am."
"Unbelievable," he laughed along, understanding that she spoke only in jest. "Fine…I'm willing to be interrogated, but under one condition."
"What is it?"
"That you get to answer every question I answer. Deal?"
"Easy enough…fine, it's a deal. I've got nothing to hide."
"Sure, Keen…sure."
"And I get nothing but full honesty from you?"
"You have my word. And you?"
"You got it."
Ressler glanced at her sideways, but by his easy grin, he didn't look too apprehensive of being thrown in the interrogation den, "Now that's all settled…what's my first allegation?"
"Uh huh…," she dismissed his sarcastic quip, "l'll start with an easy one. Do you think about getting married…settling down some time?"
At that moment, Liz couldn't understand why she found herself squirming in her seat, feeling her cheeks becoming reddened by the awkward tension that she couldn't explain, even to herself. Perhaps it was the nature of the conversation that had now taken the turn to…personal…way more personal…and she wasn't sure if she could even avail herself to this kind of questioning. It was perfectly acceptable when they were bickering and playing along some game of half-truths and half-insults…but now, it felt like this was for real. Some real questions will be asked, and some real truths had to come out. She was curious to hear it from Ressler, but was she ready herself? Was she ready to dole out some truth…or should she keep some things hidden?
"That's it? That's your first question?" Ressler chided her with a disapproving squint, "That's too easy. The answer is yes…next?"
"Ressler…"
"Of course, I am…that's all I want, you know, a family. I'd quit this job if I have to."
"You would?" It took her by surprise that Ressler would contemplate quitting this job, seeing that there was no one else more dedicated...and maniacal...about it.
"Well…maybe," he shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Who knows…but there isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect my family."
"Right…"
"So, how about you, Keen?"
"Yeah, someday…"
"Ah, come on…you've gotta give me more than that." He glanced at her for the entire duration of the red light, as if he was examining her, "Have you thought about re-entering the dating pool any time soon? Go on some blind dates? Or maybe Red can introduce you to some dapper criminal…handsome and dangerous, that's your type, isn't it?"
"Shut up, Ress…"
"Alright, alright…with all kidding aside, you've gotta start somewhere, Keen. You gotta get out there, you know…you can't live in the safety blanket of uncle Red forever, because that ain't gonna last."
"And since when did you start writing a dating column, Mr. Relationship Expert? Never mind the glaring fact that you really should be following your own advice."
"Hey, I'm out there…"
"Really…"
"I am…in my own way."
"Burying your ass in work, and using that as an excuse that you don't have time for anything else…that's not being out there."
Ressler eyed her with wary suspicion, etched with a hint of vulnerability that made Liz hesitate for a breath. But she dared forward, "Rejecting a set-up because you don't like small talk…that's not being out there."
"I knew it was wise to tell you about that one…"
"Insisting that you have a particular taste in women, and hiding behind that as an excuse as to why you haven't met the right ones…yeah, that's not being out there."
"Anything else?"
"One more thing…being afraid that you may not protect those you love because of this job, and pushing everyone away because of that fear…that's not being out there."
"Gotta hand it to you, Keen," he wore a prickly smirk on his face, of which she couldn't tell whether he was amused or sullen. "That's a nice list you got there…too bad it's all bunch of nonsense."
"Or a bunch that makes sense." Liz replied meekly, suddenly finding herself regretful that perhaps she had gone too far with him. His turn for a hushed response brought a sharp reminder that essentially they were work partners, and it was none of her damn business or concern how he lived his personal life. She breathed in deeply, to rein in the already a train wreck mess of emotions, and scolded herself to behave…and retain some semblance of professionalism…as they were, again, strictly work partners.
"Alright…I have a question." Ressler's voice cracked into the dull silence as they drove without a word for some time, "Would you…would you ever date a co-worker?"
"A what?" That wasn't a request for clarification, but rather it was more of a startled reaction to his bold question.
"You know, someone who you work with. Would you ever consider, umm…dating?"
"No," Liz didn't know what compelled her to respond so quickly, and so curtly. "Absolutely not."
"Really…not even if you feel a good connection with him…have similar outlook in life…you have good times together…"
"Nope, I'd never consider it."
"Why not?"
"Too messy. I just have this…code. Never mix personal with professional." Liz stated with a veil of finality, all the while knowing she sounded hoarse and brittle, trying desperately to hide her fluttering heart...and the fact that she was fibbing through her teeth.
"Yeah…I could see why some people would live by that code. Certainly makes things a lot easier."
"So you wouldn't either, huh?"
"Well…," he nodded in contemplation, "I would be lying if I said I haven't thought about it."
Liz kept her eyes on the road ahead, feeling all of her senses alerted and anxiously waiting upon what he could possibly say. She didn't dare look at him, cowering with timidity that perhaps he could see right through her…right through every thud and pulse of her heart.
"I gotta say, if I met the right person, I might be willing to break all the rules." Ressler snorted softly, "I used to live by this code and that code…but, as you say, that's not being out there, you know. But, really…if I met the right person, there's no way I'm letting her get away, because of some stupid code."
"Uh huh…"
"Wouldn't you agree with that?"
"Sure.."
"What do you mean, sure? Keen, don't be living by some code that you might regret later, especially those that you made up to keep your life tightly organized into neat stuffy compartments. Those are bound to get knocked over."
"You're starting to sound like my dad."
"Well, we are both very wise men. Best you heed to our words."
"Funny…"
It was then that Liz noticed the car swerved to the right, making a smooth exit off of the main road. Ressler turned to her with an eager smile, "We're almost there…about twenty minutes away."
"Good…" She stretched out her legs and unruffled her dress underneath the heavy coat she was wearing. Given that she only had two days to get something fitting to wear, she chose a dark green silk dress, hoping it was festive enough for a winter wedding. But now, she was afraid the dress was a mess of wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. At least it wasn't snowing today, and the temperature was pleasantly balmy for the dead of winter. "It's a nice weather today, for a wedding."
"Yup. I'm glad it didn't snow, so the roads are dry." He kept his smile, perhaps the imminent end to that long drive had put him in a good mood, "Alright…we have just enough time for one more question."
"Ooh, let's make it juicy…it has to be worth our time."
"I have one," he chuckled, "it's definitely juicy…but you might not approve of it."
"Oh, why the hell not…fire away."
"If you say so…," Ressler threw a quick scan of her face, then proceeded guardedly. "Do you…do you ever wonder what would've happened if we did kiss that night?"
"Ressler…"
"I mean, I know we both agreed that it was best it didn't happen…I get that. But…you know…what if it did? What if it just did? You can't tell me that thought didn't enter your mind."
Liz simply left her mouth agape, feeling absolutely bereft of what would be a fitting response to his daring assertion. What can she possibly say? Of course, she had thought about that moment…a million times, in fact. Did she regret stopping him from kissing her? No, absolutely not…but perhaps, yes…why not, yes. And what would've happened if he did kiss her? Would she have slapped his face? Perhaps yes, but perhaps no. Then would she have abandoned all control and decorum…and pull him into her hotel room…just for that night, and who the hell cares the next morning? Perhaps yes…why not, yes…
By her silence and the refusal to look at him, Ressler must've felt regrettable that he may have made her feel uncomfortable, "Hey, Keen…I'm sorry. We've already talked about it before…and took care of it already…so it's not fair rehashing it. Sorry…I'm being an ass…stupid…"
But before Liz could say a word in between, the car took a sharp turn through a wide metal gate, toward a large white mansion up ahead. She stared at the massive building in view, suddenly speechless in the majestic beauty of the endless green fields and the cloudless sky that illuminated the expanse. She couldn't help but to think back to her wedding day to Tom, how they had settled on a small church with just a handful of family. And now, seeing the grandeur of a large wedding, she wondered if perhaps this was what she'd prefer now.
"Crap, we're late…we better hurry. Get out, now…let's go."
"Coming…Jesus." Liz shook her coat as she climbed out of the car, hurriedly following Ressler who had somehow lost the gentlemanly manners in the wake of being late. She should've known better than to expect such a behavior…or a promise…to last long.
It did indeed look to be that they were the last to arrive at the church, and as soon as they stepped through the large wooden door, they were escorted to the last available pew in the back. They were able to squeeze in next to another couple, with whom Ressler exchanged a silent nod. Liz gave them a polite smile, but already she could feel their critical eyes over her, most likely wondering who the hell had arrived with their golden boy…their single golden boy.
"So, you're friends with the groom?" Liz leaned against Ressler and whispered into his ear, although they were already seated quite close, enough for their shoulders to touch…and enough for her to breathe in a whiff of his musky cologne.
"Yup. That's Stevie."
"Stevie?"
"Steven."
"He must have a large family. This is a very big wedding."
"What…you don't like big weddings?"
"No…no…it's just…there's a lot of people."
"Wait until the reception…it's gonna be insane. There's gonna be plenty of booze, that's for sure…and people just partying it up."
"Partying it up?"
"What? Am I too old to say that?"
"Yes…yes, you are."
Liz studied the groom, curious over the man who had known Ressler for so long, and she wondered how Ressler would've been like at the Academy…what kind of a young man he might've been ten years ago. She stole a quick look at his face, and she surmised perhaps his hair would've been looser, maybe a bit longer and unkempt. She could also see him being athletic, probably running around, and playing sports like football and baseball. She was certain he was very disciplined in his studies…but was he also a typical young man of his age, foolish with his friends and wily with young girls?
"Hey, Keen…by the way, there's gonna be dancing at the reception. And I want you to know, I don't dance…so don't take it personally if I don't dance with you."
Ressler whispered into her ears, sufficiently jolting her out of her whimsical fancy. She stammered, "Believe me, I won't take it as an offense. Actually…"
"What?"
"I won't require you to dance with me under one condition."
"Oh, Jesus…isn't anything for free these days?"
"You don't have to dance with me…if you meet Steven's cousin, and talk to her."
"Hell…"
"Come on, Ress…I'm not asking you to marry her. Just meet her…and see where it goes."
"Fine, I'll meet her…maybe…but that's it. You are incorrigible, you know that?"
"And you're welcome."
. . . . . . . . .
"You OK?"
"Yeah…"
The wedding had been long over, and after spending about an hour, standing on her high heels, meeting the whole brood of his Academy buddies, they were finally able to sit at their round table in the reception hall. At that point, Liz could only remember just a couple of his friends' names, but as her feet indulged in the soothing relief of finding gravity off the ground, she couldn't care less about all the fuzzy memories. Even the tenacious oggling of curious eyes didn't bother her as she took a sip of cold champagne poured into a tall glass.
"Hey, umm…you look really nice today…by the way." Ressler hardly looked at her when he offered that mild compliment.
"Thanks…"
"I may be the most envied man here, next to the groom."
"You don't look too bad yourself." Liz nudged him with a playful smile, and indeed, she couldn't deny that Ressler looked particularly...handsome that day. He was wearing his usual garb of sharply fitted navy suit, but he had chosen a rich turquoise tie, which brought out the sparkling blue tint of his lively eyes. But it had to be more than just his tie...there was something else...something else that made him appear undeniably attractive and charming. "You cleaned up rather nicely."
"If you mean I look handsome as usual, thanks."
"Don't you just love to put words in my mouth."
He let out a hearty guttural laughter, "I just have excellent mind reading skills...and it's quite useful."
"And quite delusional."
Ressler then paused in a silent study of her face, "Hey, Keen...I'm sorry about all the meet and greet...and all that stuff. I know it was an overwhelming mass of faces."
"It's alright, it's not your fault."
"They were all eager to meet you, so I had to indulge them, you know. But the ritual is over, so we could just enjoy the lunch and get the hell out."
"What…no boozing and no partying?"
"Well, maybe just a little bit."
Liz laughed along, knowing fully well that he would never refuse free drinks…in abundance. "So, did you already tell them that you were…interested in me?"
"I told Stevie. I'm sure he'll tell others."
"And you think that will do the damage?"
"Sufficiently."
And he was right. They were able to enjoy their salmon lunch with nary an interruption, save for continual glimpses and genial smiles that Liz could only interpret as…an approval. Ressler didn't seem to care about the unwarranted attention, as long as he was left alone to enjoy the bottle of champagne kindly sitting on their table. They didn't talk much during lunch, and Liz thought perhaps he should play the part of the paramour a bit more convincingly, but she already knew it was never about convincing anybody.
After some time, the lunch plates were cleared off, and the music started blaring through the hall, just as the newlywed walked to the center floor and started dancing. That was an adequate nod to everybody that it was time for dancing, and soon the floor was packed with couples swaying to the music of some indistinctive beat. Except for Liz and Ressler, who were patiently seated on their chairs, just as she shook her head in amazement as to how he had procured a bottle of whiskey in between the clearing of the tables.
"So…absolutely no dancing, huh?" She posed playfully as she accepted a glass of whiskey from him.
"Nope."
"Just curious, is it because you don't enjoy it…or you don't know how…"
"We've already discussed this, Keen. Don't push it."
"I just find it…odd…that you would absolutely refuse to do something so easy…and harmless."
"Leave it alone, Keen."
"If it's because you don't know how, I could teach you. It's actually pretty easy."
Ressler took a big gulp of the whiskey, and placed the glass on the table with an annoyed flair, "Keen, if you really want to dance, you're gonna have better luck with one of those fellas over there." And then he pointed at the group of men gathered around the bar at the far end of the reception hall.
"Fine…" She pretended to look over the men with great interest, "How about that one, the one with the grey suit?"
Ressler followed her finger pointed at the tall lean man with dark brown hair, who was laughing with a gentle command while balancing a drink in his hand with admirable deftness. But Liz wasn't expecting an appalled scowl that invaded Ressler's face, "Damn…not Phil."
"What?"
"Anyone but Phil…"
"What's wrong with him?"
"He's a smarmy ass, that's what's wrong with him." He kept his glowering eyes upon him, "I hate that guy."
"Ah, come on…stop being so dramatic." She laughed at him, although she was certain he was quite serious, "Is he a bureau agent?"
"For the New York office."
"And he's single?"
"Serial…serial womanizer."
"Ressler!" Out of reflex, she hit him in the arm and hissed at his direction, "Will you behave…"
"Fine…he's single…and always ready to mingle."
"Ressler…what is the matter with you?" Liz gave him another mean glower, "He looks like a nice man…and it doesn't hurt that he's a nice looking man. He's quite tall, too…"
"Jesus…now I know you are terrible at picking men."
"And you're just…"
"What? A crude man-child?"
"That, too…but you're just…jealous."
Ressler let out a guttural laugh, while he fingers brushed through his hair roughly. "Jealous…me, jealous? Over what?"
Liz exerted much self-control and held back her fist which desperately wanted to punch his lights out. "By the way, who is Steven's cousin?"
"Who?"
"You know, the woman you were gonna get set up with?"
"Who cares…"
"Where is she?"
"Drop it, Keen."
"Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna go have a dance with that Phil over there, and you're gonna go talk to…Tommy's cousin. That was our deal."
Ressler pushed aside his whiskey glass, and leaned into her, "I don't remember making that deal. We talked about it, but I don't recall agreeing to…"
"Or else, you are dancing with me."
"Jesus Christ…you're not gonna back down, aren't you?"
"Nope."
He paused in contemplation, while keeping an unnerved squint at her expectant eyes, "Fine."
"Fine…what?"
"Fine, I'll go talk to her."
"You will?" His swift reply caught her off guard, as she hadn't expected him to choose that option, "Who is she, anyway?"
"She's over there, in a pink dress." Ressler's head tilted toward the direction of a blond woman in a bright pink dress seated at a table near the window, "Cassandra…Tommy's cousin from Boston."
Liz stared at the woman in question, finding her rather attractive in her blond curls, with dainty features and a pleasant smile to match. She also had a very amiable and cheerful presence about her. "She's an attractive woman…don't you think?"
"That's beside the point."
"What does she do for a living?"
"She's a lawyer."
"Impressive…that's a nice, respectable profession for you."
"She's a bottom feeder, Keen…a crime hoarder…a blood sucker..."
"Ressler, be nice." Liz elbowed him playfully, "I think she's a very attractive lady, and you would be stupid to not meet her."
"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you'd call me stupid," he spoke tersely as he gulped down the last of the whiskey in his glass. "Let's get this over with…you go have that dance with that geezer Phil, and I'll go have that talk with Cassandra. Then, we're leaving."
"Deal. And I want to see a meaningful conversation between you two…I'll be keeping my eyes on you."
"Oh, Jesus…"
. . . . . . . . . . .
It wasn't too difficult to get Phil to dance with her, as Liz explained to him that her date, Don, was grossly preoccupied with making some business deals with another guest. And by the way Phil's eyes lit up as she approached him, she was certain that the proposition to dance would not be rejected.
Phil was a perfect gentleman as he led her to the dance floor, keeping his hand politely on her back as they waded between other couples. A slow song was on, and his hand upon her waist was most properly genteel, and as she placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned into him, Phil was most respectfully considerate of their proximity. And to top it off, he smelled great.
"So, how long have you known Donnie?" That was Phil's first inquiry on the dance floor, which she could only assume was his peaked curiosity over the extent of her relationship with Ressler.
"Just over three years." She couldn't help but to smile back at his rather bright and attractive smile…and his teeth, they were such perfect teeth.
"Do you work closely with him?"
"Here and there, I suppose."
"Then, how do you know him so well?"
"Well, here's the thing, I don't really know the guy…not that well, anyway."
"Is that so…," Phil's perfectly shaped brows furrowed in faint confusion. "Because I heard that…oh, excuse me, where are my manners? I didn't mean to pry…please forgive me."
"No…if you meant that you heard the worst kept secret, that Don has this silly crush on me…well, I could tell you that I am not interested in him, not at all. None whatsoever."
"That's very unfortunate for Donnie…"
"Well, what can I say? How do you expect me to be attracted to the guy who drives me up the wall, all the time?"
"Excuse me?"
"Umm…what I mean is…"
"Did you just say…"
It was at that moment that Liz saw him. She saw Ressler standing behind Phil, with darkly grave eyes and lips pressed tightly shut. Liz shifted her face toward Ressler, to see what he wanted, but it wasn't her he wanted. She watched with sheer incredulity as he tapped twice on Phil's shoulder.
"May I cut in, please?"
Phil turned around to face Ressler, with a countenance thoroughly alarmed to suddenly see the subject of Liz's supposed scorn, "Hey Donnie, what's going on, man?"
"Hey, Phil…may I cut in?"
"Sorry?"
"Can I cut in?"
"Umm, sure…yeah, you can cut in." Phil turned to Liz, for a fleeting look of flustered confusion, and after a brief moment of awkward stance, he walked away just as Ressler stepped forward.
With Phil out of the way, Ressler resumed the position, holding her waist and waiting for Liz to place her hand upon his shoulder. But he had obviously underestimated her absolute disapproval of this entire situation.
"Ressler, just what the hell are you doing?"
. . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: First of all, thank you for reading this story! I know this chapter was super long, but I just had to get their dialogue out of my system. Thanks for sticking it though!
