---5---
She did nothing but move about her apartment for the duration of the afternoon. The fridge remained unstocked. Her paperwork remained unfinished. Lucas called twice, but the only time she so much as touched the phone was to call the one person she knew wanted nothing to do with her. Didn't much matter, though. She couldn't even bring herself to dial. She hung up for the umpteenth time.
"Kate, you're pathetic," she thought to herself. "So ya' threw one back? So what? There's plenty more where that came from."
She bit her lip and paused to mull over the possibilities. Picking up the phone yet again, she dialed and this time, completed the call.
"Hi there," she began while playing with the phone wire. "No, it's Kate...Yes, it has been a long time...I know, well I've been busy. New company and what not. Listen, we should catch up. What do your plans look like for tonight?...Really? Well aren't you in luck."
She arrived at "The Blue Note" a half hour late. Fashionably late as she always excused it. Pulling the front of her low-cut cocktail dress up and wrapping her mink stole around her arms, she entered and caught his eye immediately. Richard Smith was as simple as his name. Rich, but simple. Charming, but simple. A good time, but simple. Like a drug, he was the kind of man who could sweep you off your feet and forget your problems, but only for one night, and never altogether. By morning, the high would be gone. A whirlwind of excitement that left nothing but an overbearing hangover of emotion.
He strolled over to her, and grabbed her hand. "Let me get a look at you," he said smoothly, his eyes wandering. "Gorgeous as ever."
She smirked, "full of it as ever."
He laughed. "Hardly...I've taken the liberty of grabbing us a table," he remarked, while signaling a waiter. "It's in the back. Very dark, very secluded, very us," he whispered in her ear. He pulled her into the next room. The power struggle between them came flooding back to her. They never did get along very well. One was always trying to call the shots when the other wanted to just as badly. Sure, they'd spent countless nights together. Fun, fun, fun was always his motto. God, she thought, he's still that childish party guy I was introduced to years ago. Which, she told herself, was exactly what she needed.
He pulled out her chair. "Thank you," she remarked.
"So, how's life been treatin' ya'?" he asked. She laughed to herself. Never had she heard him begin a conversation with any other line.
The hours melted away. They talked, they laughed, they drank. Richard bought a round for everyone, announcing to the entire room that beautiful women made him do crazy things. His energy was contagious. He had a way of sucking anyone into his world of fast times, but had a tendency to forget the one he walked in with. Kate knew he had a mile-long list of others he could be there with, but she didn't care. He was what she needed. A carefree shot in the arm.
"Say," he began. He leaned in closer, squinting as if he were studying something. "You've got something in your eye."
"Oh please, Richard," she said with an eyeroll. "Not the old 'you've got something in your eye' line. Don't even tell me you still use that."
"What? It works!"
"It's never worked, and I never understood why you always thought it did. If you want to kiss someone, just move in and do it!"
He did, but she pushed him away. "The moment has passed," she replied, taking a sip of her martini.
"But you said..."
"Ugh, God Richard, I swear. Sometimes you can be so slick, then other times, you can be such an oaf." She smiled.
He leaned in again, and said with fire in his eyes, "Whaddya say you bring the oaf home with you tonight?"
She smiled at the offer, and that's all he needed. He grabbed her hand, she linked her arm with his, and together they quickly left, whispering and laughing all the way out the door.
A man spun in his chair at the bar. "Get me another one," he muttered coldly to the bartender.
The bartender unscrewed the cap off a beer and slid it down the counter. "Haven't seen you in here before," he remarked.
"That's because I don't come in here often," he replied flatly. "Listen, did you see those two leave just now?"
The bartender laughed. "Yep, and I think we can both figure out where they're goin'!"
"Do they come here often?"
"No...no, I mean, I've seen her a few times. Nothing recent, but him? I've never seen him before," he replied, shaking his head.
"Thanks. Appreciate it, Mr...?"
"Joe," he said wiping his hand on a bar rag, then extending it.
"Roman Brady, take care and thanks again."
She did nothing but move about her apartment for the duration of the afternoon. The fridge remained unstocked. Her paperwork remained unfinished. Lucas called twice, but the only time she so much as touched the phone was to call the one person she knew wanted nothing to do with her. Didn't much matter, though. She couldn't even bring herself to dial. She hung up for the umpteenth time.
"Kate, you're pathetic," she thought to herself. "So ya' threw one back? So what? There's plenty more where that came from."
She bit her lip and paused to mull over the possibilities. Picking up the phone yet again, she dialed and this time, completed the call.
"Hi there," she began while playing with the phone wire. "No, it's Kate...Yes, it has been a long time...I know, well I've been busy. New company and what not. Listen, we should catch up. What do your plans look like for tonight?...Really? Well aren't you in luck."
She arrived at "The Blue Note" a half hour late. Fashionably late as she always excused it. Pulling the front of her low-cut cocktail dress up and wrapping her mink stole around her arms, she entered and caught his eye immediately. Richard Smith was as simple as his name. Rich, but simple. Charming, but simple. A good time, but simple. Like a drug, he was the kind of man who could sweep you off your feet and forget your problems, but only for one night, and never altogether. By morning, the high would be gone. A whirlwind of excitement that left nothing but an overbearing hangover of emotion.
He strolled over to her, and grabbed her hand. "Let me get a look at you," he said smoothly, his eyes wandering. "Gorgeous as ever."
She smirked, "full of it as ever."
He laughed. "Hardly...I've taken the liberty of grabbing us a table," he remarked, while signaling a waiter. "It's in the back. Very dark, very secluded, very us," he whispered in her ear. He pulled her into the next room. The power struggle between them came flooding back to her. They never did get along very well. One was always trying to call the shots when the other wanted to just as badly. Sure, they'd spent countless nights together. Fun, fun, fun was always his motto. God, she thought, he's still that childish party guy I was introduced to years ago. Which, she told herself, was exactly what she needed.
He pulled out her chair. "Thank you," she remarked.
"So, how's life been treatin' ya'?" he asked. She laughed to herself. Never had she heard him begin a conversation with any other line.
The hours melted away. They talked, they laughed, they drank. Richard bought a round for everyone, announcing to the entire room that beautiful women made him do crazy things. His energy was contagious. He had a way of sucking anyone into his world of fast times, but had a tendency to forget the one he walked in with. Kate knew he had a mile-long list of others he could be there with, but she didn't care. He was what she needed. A carefree shot in the arm.
"Say," he began. He leaned in closer, squinting as if he were studying something. "You've got something in your eye."
"Oh please, Richard," she said with an eyeroll. "Not the old 'you've got something in your eye' line. Don't even tell me you still use that."
"What? It works!"
"It's never worked, and I never understood why you always thought it did. If you want to kiss someone, just move in and do it!"
He did, but she pushed him away. "The moment has passed," she replied, taking a sip of her martini.
"But you said..."
"Ugh, God Richard, I swear. Sometimes you can be so slick, then other times, you can be such an oaf." She smiled.
He leaned in again, and said with fire in his eyes, "Whaddya say you bring the oaf home with you tonight?"
She smiled at the offer, and that's all he needed. He grabbed her hand, she linked her arm with his, and together they quickly left, whispering and laughing all the way out the door.
A man spun in his chair at the bar. "Get me another one," he muttered coldly to the bartender.
The bartender unscrewed the cap off a beer and slid it down the counter. "Haven't seen you in here before," he remarked.
"That's because I don't come in here often," he replied flatly. "Listen, did you see those two leave just now?"
The bartender laughed. "Yep, and I think we can both figure out where they're goin'!"
"Do they come here often?"
"No...no, I mean, I've seen her a few times. Nothing recent, but him? I've never seen him before," he replied, shaking his head.
"Thanks. Appreciate it, Mr...?"
"Joe," he said wiping his hand on a bar rag, then extending it.
"Roman Brady, take care and thanks again."