A/N: Can I just point out how very demoralizing it was to see no one taking the bait with my 'parcel' thing, but rather everyone asked about Steph's new temp job? Really? LOL I hadn't even thought about her new job and any details and didn't plan on thinking about it either. Maybe I can come up with something crazy :) Also... there won't be a lot of chapters left, maybe a date and then two or three more. I don't plan on dragging this out. And after this one is finished I will get to 'Seduction Techniques' to finish that one.
I hope you enjoy reading...
To say I hadn't slept for just a second the entire night would be an understatement. It isn't like I regretted having sent the parcel towards RangeMan, but it made me wonder what kind of message it would send. Especially after the amazingly gorgeous bouquet of flowers I had received. Though, I obviously couldn't have known about them and it wasn't as if I couldn't explain the parcel. I could. And also, I probably should.
9:53am my phone rang and despite the fact that I had no clue about his number I was a 10000% certain answering it, I would hear Carlos' voice.
"Hello?" I answered my cell phone, indicating to my colleague I'd only be a moment. Gillian just nodded and made some weird hand gesture that indicated 'take as long as you need'.
"Interesting parcel I received just now," came his voice and I might have melted a little. Weirdly enough for a second, I wondered whether the feeling of joy I was currently experiencing just from actually hearing from him was similar to what a junkie must feel after he went cold turkey. While getting back into an unhealthy habit was not my point, the fact that I technically compared Carlos Manoso to a drug, seemed fitting in a way.
"How so?" I asked innocently.
"The parcel contained a black hoodie," he offered and it isn't like I didn't know that already.
"Okay," I stupidly said, not sure what else to say. Because, frankly was there anything else to say?
"That isn't my hoodie," I heard his amused voice through the line.
"No, but… your favourite hoodie has now become my favourite hoodie and since you said it was only special because I wore it, I figured if I just sent you one of my black hoodies that I had also worn longer was a good exchange. It seemed like a fair deal."
"You realize that your hoodie is probably a good four sizes too small for me?" he asked amused and I needed to laugh. Right, I had really not thought about that. But then again, it wasn't like I had expected him to actually wear the thing. From the very few things I had learned about him I figured he was a rather successful businessman and probably could afford a hundred black hoodies. Hell, he probably already owned a hundred hoodies.
"I can send you another one and then you can somehow merge them to one giant hoodie," I suggested and heard him laugh through the line.
"Counter-offer," he said, still sounding very amused. "Instead of a hoodie, you can find yourself a dress and let me finally take you out to dinner. The two weeks are over after all. Unless you'd like to wait another few just to make sure."
"I… I know I said this before and I don't want to come across as difficult or like I haven't made up my mind or keep switching back and forth with my ideas, but… do you really think this is such a great idea?"
"What? Us? No," he said and I was stumped for a second. At least he was honest then. Though, I wasn't sure if he thought we weren't a good idea, why go through the trouble of sending me flowers and also calling me now to rile me up because of the hoodie. "I think this is an excellent idea."
For a second I was so caught up in my own mind that I almost missed his last statement.
"Look," he went on before I could even reply to his surprising addition. "I get that you have all the reasons to be suspicious and careful and I certainly don't expect you to throw yourself into this head first and damn the consequences. But I think if you give this a chance – and us therefore – you might be surprised to see what can come out of a seemingly shitty situation. I gave you the two weeks you asked for and while I certainly don't force you to go out with me and won't go all debt collector on you, I don't think you have anything to lose."
I thought about his comment for a moment, taking a deep breath and collecting my thoughts.
"I'm usually really not like this and seem like I flip-flop back and forth between decisions. But …can I be honest with you?" I asked, biting my lip and wondered whether I should just shoot my shot.
"That's all I'm asking," he simply said and I took another deep breath.
"Don't take this the wrong way but there is something about you that scares me. Not in a 'fear for my life'-kind of way. But something that I'm not used to. I'm not used to people making an effort or going out of their way in the way you do. And quiet honestly, I… I don't know what you see in me if I'm really honest. Don't get me wrong, I don't have self-esteem issues – well, not more than normal I guess – but you look like a guy who easily could have anyone who is… everything I am not. Prettier, more successful, and just more of an equal in every regard."
"All I did so far was get you flowers delivered and technically I also broke into your place twice, so I am not entirely sure what you'd consider going out of my way," he mused for a moment and when he said it like that it sounded slightly creepy. That should tell you what I was used to in regards of … courting. "Also, I am not entirely certain what kind of guys you must have been dating so far that any of that already impresses you. And while I get that we sort of did things in an odd order, I don't mind. There aren't really universal rules anyway in what should be done when, though I am certain plenty of books and columns in women magazines have opinion on that and would disagree. In the end whatever feels right and makes everyone feel comfortable can't be automatically wrong. And I beg to differ, so far you lack nothing that you think I need. I don't look for another conquest, business partner or a trophy. You don't have to be able to compete in order to be considered an equal. This isn't some game show."
"Personally, speaking I think you deserve someone a little more in your league then I am. And that once you get to know me, you might realize that yourself, that I'm nothing special, boring and just … not able to offer anything interesting or to bring something to the table."
"Before you already plan a breakup, can I let have a chance to get to know you and maybe – or maybe not – realize that? If you have no interest in it, that is fine and you just need to say so. I am aware that my approach to anything has been rather unorthodox and comes across as maybe a little aggressive. So, if you worry that letting me down will cause … issues or even harm to you, rest assured it won't. And I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."
"Letting you down?" I asked slowly, pronouncing each word separately as if trying to understand a newly learned word. "Wait, do you think I'm scared of you like you are some psycho?"
"In all fairness, my approach hasn't been really entirely … legal. And someone brought it to my attention that technically I might as well be a stalker."
For a moment I wasn't certain what I was hearing. "You do realize that I technically started with the psycho behaviour when I broke into your house, don't you? It isn't like I'm not right next to you on that scale of 'how loony are you?' I mean…. I broke into your place to retrieve a necklace that your ex got from my ex and that belonged to my grandmother. And then I slept with you. Right there. I wouldn't say that is considered healthy or normal behaviour either. I'm not… I'm not trying to let you down, I just…," I started and stopped all of a sudden, not sure how to say whatever I was about to say without sounding even more crazy. Though, was this really possible at this stage?
"You just…?" Carlos asked through the line and I let out a long sigh. Maybe this finally would show him how completely incompatible we were.
"I… I like you, I really do. And I can't explain it. I mean, we… we barely know each other, have this all wrong and I get the feeling you have an idea or image of me that couldn't be further from the truth. But, I like you. I can't explain it and I know I've said it before that I find you incredibly hot. Out-of-my league hot. But it is not just the physical attraction, but also … there is something about you that feels right and good. Again, I can't explain that, especially since we don't know each other. And I just worry, if I already feel like this now – before really knowing much about you – what could happen if we get to know each other and you decide this isn't what you thought it would be. That I disappoint you in a way and you realize that I'm not at all who you think I am."
"That's not going to happen, Babe. As unable as you are to explain that pull between us, as unable am I. I honestly believe we both experience the same kind of attraction that isn't based on images or ideas of the other one and certainly isn't based simply on a night of hot sex. I don't know what happened in previous relationships that made you see yourself like that, but I can guarantee you, I don't see you in the same light as you seem to do. Personally speaking, I am not as perfect as you probably seem to think," he said and I think I heard a little snicker. "As dedicated and devoted as I seemed to you that night, that's as dedicated and devoted as I am to my job and company. I'm what they call a workaholic and I might be rather unapologetic about it. I have as much my own flaws as you might have and trust me there is probably a whole catalogue of things that might put you off."
Okay, I had not expected any of that I was honest. I wasn't naïve to think that he was perfect and the God that he looked like. But having a guy telling me in a humble way that he wasn't perfect and probably had a whole long list of things that weren't great about him was new. Unless….
"You don't have any weird sexual kinks or fetishes, do you?" I wondered and couldn't stop myself from actually speaking that thought out loud. That was supposed to be my own thought that should have stayed with me. Fuck!
"Have you spoken to Lester Santos by any chance?" I heard him ask and was now confused. Who the hell was that?
"Should I speak to that Lester Santos?" I asked back.
"Not before you and me are married, that's for sure. And I'll make sure you only meet him on that specific date and not a minute beforehand."
"When put like that it sounds like I should speak to him."
"No you don't, Babe," he said and sounded amused. "He's my cousin by the way. And he's… never mind. Are we back on for a possible date?" I heard him first explain and then ask, sounding almost hopeful. That was the first time that I probably realized that he was serious and that whatever other crazy idea I could come up with why we shouldn't do this, wouldn't work. He'd get that date, because that was what he wanted. And for whatever reason I came to the conclusion that he wasn't after some image or idea, but that he really, really, really wanted to get to know me. And that maybe all the excuses I made so far were lessons I'd previously learned, which didn't make them right or correct. Maybe all the excuses were actually in my head. And it was time to bid them farewell, or at least throw caution to the wind until another excuse and possible reason creeped up on me.
If all went to hell, I guess I could always call Mary Lou, Lula or Connie, cry to them and ask them to bring ice cream. Loads and loads of it. And wine.
"Promise me something?" I asked as reply to his question.
"Will it be another two-week requirement?" he asked carefully, which made me laugh.
"No."
"Name it," he said softly and I smiled even wider. No idea why though.
"When we do this and go on a date, will you be not perfect?"
There was another long silence and I wasn't sure for a moment whether the call hadn't dropped.
"I'm not entirely sure how to promise that since I don't even know what you see in me that makes you believe I am perfect. Or what you actually consider perfect. I can promise you to be myself, if that is sufficient enough."
I thought about his comment for a second, before smiling again. "I guess we got ourselves a date then."
"Within the next two weeks?" I heard him ask carefully and soft.
"Within the next 24 hours if you like," I replied with another smile. "Though, in all fairness that would be really short notice." I wasn't opposed to a date tomorrow night, though obviously preferring a little more advanced notice But I figured I put him already through enough as it was.
"I have an out-of-town trip I would quickly need to look into rescheduling, but…," I heard him mumble.
"No," I more or less screamed with such force that people around me looked worriedly at me. "I mean… there is no need to change or cancel plans. How long will your trip take you out of town?"
"Just a few days. But it really wouldn't be much of a problem. As a matter of fact, I'd much rather spent tomorrow evening with you then some …colleagues."
"And I appreciate that, but will a few more days make such a big difference? Also, getting reservations or whatever it is you might plan at this late stage, might be tricky and stressful. A few days really won't be a problem," I assured him, actually glad for a few days to prepare.
"I'd be back by Thursday," he mentioned and I checked my calendar mentally. That would be in three days from now. And it would give me plenty of time.
"That works fine, really. And weren't you just mentioning a few moments ago you are a workaholic? Cancelling or postponing a business trip for some random girl does not speak for workaholic," I remarked amused and heard him laugh on the other end.
"You are certainly not some random girl. But if Thursday works for you, then we do Thursday. That way – as you mentioned already – I get plenty of time coming up with plans and wooing you off your feet."
And with that we were set on Thursday. Was it time to freak out now already or should I wait for that until five minutes from now?