Uncharacteristically I arrived for dinner with Emil about 15 minutes late. The traffic was miserable, and the cab ride was as well. I was about to try Emil on his cell to let him know I would be late, but 15 minutes seemed within an acceptable window. Any thing more and I would have called.
Emil was sitting at the bar having a drink. He looked very handsome in a dark shirt and sweater. I always melted a little bit inside when I saw him, especially when he was not aware I was looking at him. He was everything I might have imagined I would like in someone, smart, funny, fair-minded, everything that is, except available to me.
"I'm so sorry I'm late." My voice was quiet as I lay my hand on his arm. He smiled at me; he knew I really was truly sorry to be late. I wasn't one of those people who were always late and always "sorry." He accepted my apology by kissing me briefly, softly. I could feel my breath catch in my chest; I knew this was going to be an emotional roller coaster of an evening.
"You look lovely." He complimented me, and he tenderly tucked one of my dark spiral curls behind my ear. I had worn my hair down. Off hours I liked to wear it down.
"Thank you." I replied. He held my hand in his, just by the tips of our fingers, as he looked at me.
"Would you like something to drink? They're running a little behind. I think a table should be ready in about 10 minutes." Emil asked.
"Maybe a glass of wine." I agreed.
"Something dry and red?" He confirmed, though he didn't really have to confirm, he knew my favorite wines. I nodded, and listened to him order.
"Sit." He said, standing, allowing me to sit on the stool he had occupied. I crossed my legs tightly at the knee and kept my body slightly facing him. I noticed him looking at my legs, at the high heeled dark brown leather boots, and knew I had been right. I could tell he found them sexy. I smiled to myself, I knew him very well.
"How was your day?" He asked, looking at my legs for a moment longer. "Up until the point you were stuck in traffic on the way here, that is."
"My day was good. My patients were regular. No emergency referrals or evaluations." I offered. The emergency referrals or evaluations I received took a good amount of energy. I had to make an evaluation in a short time span. Then most times, I referred them out again to a provider better matched to their needs. The bartender placed the glass of wine in front of me, and I took a sip.
"This is excellent." I smiled at Emil.
"I thought you would enjoy that." He smiled, happy he had made a nice choice. I listened to him talk about wine for a moment. As he talked, I mentally reminded myself not to fall back into his arms and into his life only to have him push me back again. If I let myself, we would easily be "on-again" and I had to keep reminding myself that I did not want easy.
A bottle of wine and an excellent meal later, we were standing alone near the coat check. Emil was standing behind me helping me on with my coat, and I closed my eyes, listening to the deep sound of his voice. He was talking about everything he needed to do tomorrow, a busy Saturday of plans. I was not really paying attention to the details of what he was saying, I was simply enjoying his familiar touch as he gently placed my coat on my shoulders, and the way his deep voice kind of reverberated inside my chest.
When I opened my eyes, he was standing in front of me, asking me to come home with him. Every ounce of me wanted to go home with him, but what my body wanted, my brain would not allow.
"Emil, I…" I paused, looking at him, he caressed my face very tenderly. "I can't." I said simply. I had sorted through my brain for numerous lame excuses, but in the end, I had simply said the truth.
He looked at me for a long moment, as if he could read what I was thinking, what I was feeling. And, part of me knew that he probably could. This man knew me so well as to see inside of me. I was trembling slightly; praying the tears I felt inside of me would not wet my eyes.
"I can't." I repeated my words and shook my head slightly, as if to get my body to also say "no."
"OK." He said. "It's OK." He said, surprising me. As we stood alone near the coat check, he kissed me, and I was certain he could feel me trembling in his arms.
"We can have dinner again. And, I will ask again." He said. I nodded "yes" to this, I wanted to have dinner with him again, I wanted him to ask again, I wanted a lot of things from him, and I wanted to give him the chance.
"Let me see you home." He said, and held my hand as we walked out front. There was a cab standing at the curb.
"I'm OK." I said, meaning I could make it on my own. Emil opened the door for me, touching my face so ever softly.
"I will ask again." He said, and again I nodded. He shut the cab door, and the driver pulled away. I did not give him my home address. I did not want to go and sit at home along. Instead I asked that he take me a favorite bar of mine, a great place, with great music, and great drinks. I was upset, my hands shaking. I pulled out my phone to call my friend Annie to coerce her into meeting me.
About 30 minutes later, I was sitting at the bar, drinking a club soda (I already had too much wine) thinking that maybe I had been a little hasty in leaving Annie a message. When she did not pick up her phone, I should have hung up. I had been so upset that I had dropped my phone and only managed to put it back to my ear as I listened to the beep. I hated to leave Annie a hang-up in her voicemail so I had left her a rather disjointed message. In retrospect, I realized that my voice was probably quaking a bit, and that the fact that I was horribly upset probably came through loud and clear. If I knew Annie, and I did, she was probably speeding to the bar to rescue me.
I realized that I was feeling much better, much calmer. Maybe it was my choice in having a club soda versus more alcohol to drink, or maybe it was just the simple fact that a bit of time had passed between my decision not to go home with Emil and my sitting here at the bar.
I was thinking about calling Annie back, to let her know I was OK, well as OK as I could feel, so I was holding my phone in my hand when Bobby Goren walked up beside me.
"Wondering where your friend Annie is?" He asked, and I looked at him, my mouth literally falling open in surprise.
"I know you are a detective, but…" I responded, managing a tiny bit of composure. I watched him reach out and touch the "last call sent" button on my phone and I could see his name and number. Ever so slowly, it dawned on me that the very emotional message I left for my dear friend Annie Roberts, I had actually left for Robert Goren. Damn my electronic phone book and the use of last and first names all mixed together.
"I tried to phone you back, but it went straight to your voicemail." He looked around. "And, you uh, well, you sounded kind of upset, so I…" He offered, trying to explain why he was standing in front of me.
"Annie's last name is Roberts. When I went through my phone numbers, I must've pressed Robert for you, Robert Goren." I replied. I noticed that he looked better than he had when I had run into him in the coffee shop. He was looking at me, studying me.
"You look pretty." He said, kind of randomly. I smiled, I could not help myself. His compliment sounded kind of like a 5th grade boy telling a 5th grade girl that she was pretty.
"Thank you, and thank you for not leaving me sitting here wondering about Annie." I offered knowing that not everyone would respond to a mis-sent voicemail.
"What're you drinking?" He asked.
"Club soda." I wondered for a moment why he had asked. Then I knew that he was trying to gauge if I really was OK.
"The music is pretty good here." He observed, kind of standing awkwardly to the side of me.
"Yeah, it's pretty good." I replied. "Why don't you sit down." I gestured to the seat that had just been vacated by some guy that Bobby had been standing unnaturally close to. He nodded, and moved his large frame onto the small bar stool. He ordered a beer, and we sat and listened to the music for while. When the set ended, he ordered another beer and I ordered another club soda.
"So, did you play basketball or are you a fan? Or, maybe both?" I asked, thinking about the conversation he had with my nephew Jake.
"Both, I guess." He replied, and told me that he had played on a team when he was younger, and now he was a big fan of college ball, not so much professional. I listened to him talk a while about college basketball, filling my brain full of details college basketball teams and players. As much as I was trying, my non-basket-ball brain was not really retaining a lot of the information.
I found him charming, and funny. On the surface, he seemed to lack certain social skills, but I realized that he probably acted a certain way to manipulate people into doing what he wanted. For example, at first I thought he was unaware he was standing so close to the guy sitting next to me, causing the guy to leave his seat. But as soon as Bobby sat down, I realized that Bobby had probably stood too close on purpose because he had wanted the seat, he had wanted to sit down and listen to music with me for a while.
I stifled a small yawn, realizing I was getting tired. It was late, much later than I usually stayed out.
"I hate to say this, but I don't think I can make it until the next set." I said, paying my tab for my 2 club sodas.
"Really." He said, and I thought he looked slightly disappointed.
"Really." I replied, this time yawning a bit for real. I moved to stand.
"Let me get you a cab." He said, standing at the exact same time. I found myself practically in his arms, my hands splayed open against his broad chest. I looked up at him, and was reminded how he had told me I looked pretty. Again, I was drawn to him. He did not move away; he remained close, looking down at me. And, I sensed he was drawn to me. So there I was, standing very close to him, my palms soaking up the warm heat of his body, my hazel eyes looking into his soft, intelligent brown eyes.
"I should go." My voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but I managed to step away. He moved a bit, as if to follow me to get the cab. I realized I couldn't have him follow me outside. I was still twisted up a bit inside from turning away Emil's request to go home with him.
"You should stay. There are plenty of cabs outside." I said, grabbing up my coat, and moving across the bar before Bobby could protest. As I walked outside, I thought of Emil, I wondered if maybe the man I couldn't have was making me want the man I shouldn't have.
A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews. Not surprisingly, your reviews are contributing to the direction of the story. So please, feel free to drop me a review and let me know you are reading.