Arsen: a broken love story, стр. 4

“Um…”

“Listen, how about this, I’ll let you get in that cab under two conditions. You must give me your number, and you must agree to go on a date with me three days from now.”

Can this really be happening to me?

“But that’s Friday.”

Shouldn’t this beautiful man already have a date for Friday? Only dateless losers stay home on a Friday night. Example. Me.

“So what?”

“It’s a Friday. Shouldn’t you be busy? With a date, or something?”

“I’m trying to get myself a date, but the stubborn girl won’t give me a chance.” Smiling, he looks at me. Like, really looking at me.

“Oh. You want to go out with me?” Holy shit. He does.

“I want to do more than that. But for now, I would be more than happy if you would give me your Friday night.”

“Why?” I blurt the question before I realize that I kind of don’t want to know his answer.

“Why, what? Why do I want to take you out?”

I nod my head yes.

“Besides the obvious.” He pushes himself closer to me and whispers in my ear, “Because I can’t fucking wait to kiss you again.”

Oh.

“Why don’t you do it now?” Shit. Where the hell is this Slutty Cathy coming from?

“Simple,” he says. I can feel the heat radiating from his body onto mine as his eyes roam my face once more. “Because I want to pick you up at your doorstep. I want to bring you flowers. I want to tell you how beautiful you look. I want to see you blush when I compliment you. I want to see you fuss over the flowers while you offer me a glass of water. And if you live with your parents, I want to shake your dad’s hand and tell him that I will take care of his daughter and that I won’t bring her home too late. Then, I will compliment your mother with how beautiful she is. Because only a beautiful woman could have given birth to someone as pretty as you.”

He caresses my cheek tenderly. “Then, you will blush and take my hand in yours to get me out of the house as fast as possible so I don’t embarrass you anymore. When we’re outside, I will take your hand in mine and walk you to my car. I’ll open the door for you, let you in, and then once the door is closed, I’ll make my way to the driver’s seat. But before I start the engine, I want to turn to look at you, sitting there, blushing. I want to grab you by the neck,” his words reflect his actions as he grabs the back of my neck tenderly and brings our faces closer together, “bring your perfect lips close to mine. And then…”

“Yes?” I swallow hard.

“And then finally kiss you,” he whispers huskily, his eyes boring into mine.

Oh my God.

“So, do we have a date?” he says, smiling smugly.

“Yes,” I say breathlessly as my pulse begins to race.

“You won’t regret it, Wow,” he says, smiling.

“My name is Cathy,” I smile in return.

“I like that. You look like a Cathy. Sweet, innocent, and perfect.”

“Oh.”

I seriously want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“My name is Ben, by the way.”

“Nice meeting you, Ben,” I murmur softly.

Putting my hand out for a handshake, Ben totally rocks my world when he takes it and brings it to his lips, planting a kiss I feel all the way to my bones. Dumbstruck, I let go of his hand and watch Ben step to the side, opening the door wider for me to get in.

Is this guy for real? I don’t know whether to swoon, or burst out laughing. I kind of want to swoon, though.

“Okay. Thank you. I, um, I guess I’ll wait to hear from you?”

“Sure.” He smiles.

After we exchange numbers and say a quick goodbye, I get in the cab and give the driver my address. I feel in a daze as if I’m standing still while the world moves around me at a fast speed.

I feel my phone vibrating. Well, I guess it didn’t die after all. I take my cell out and notice I have a text from an unknown number.

1(347) 886-8688: Hey, Cathy. I meant what I said on the street.

I smile as I remember what he whispered in my ear.

“Too late. Lighting has already struck.”

I burst out laughing, then look out the window. As I gaze at my reflection, I decide that maybe I don’t hate the rain after all.

Ben.

Oh, yes.

Most definitely.

Ben: On my way home. Picked up the dry cleaning and some dinner from Past-Tina’s. Wasn’t sure if you’re going to have dinner with Amy and the new guy, but figured you might be hungry when you get home if you didn’t. Good luck, babe.

That is Ben for you, always thoughtful. Looking down at my screen, my fingers hover over the digital keypad on my phone. I really should reply to his text and thank him for thinking about me, but I don’t. Not sure why. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like starting a text message conversation with him, maybe it’s because I am running late, as always, and I need to get to the airport pronto. Or maybe it’s because I just don’t feel like typing.

Shoving my phone in my Burberry bag, I decide to give Ben a call on my way to the airport. I’ll be leaving as soon as Amy gives me the information on Mr. Radcliff’s flight, anyway. Yippee…can’t wait to meet another Hotel Magnate jerk who thinks the sun rises and sets on his ass.

Bruno Radcliff just acquired the hotel where Amy and I work. The chain was known as Dreams Hotels, but now we are part of the bigger and more exclusive Radcliff Conglomerate. So yes, Mr. Radcliff is a big deal in the hotel world.

Amy, my boss, is the director of sales and marketing. She manages all the top accounts and key clients. I’m a sales coordinator, and my job is to support whatever Amy needs help with. I look after clients who want to book their hotels, VIP celebrities, corporate clients, and handle complaints.

Feeling a little nervous. I make my way to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and hair. As I’m running my fingers through my shoulder length blonde hair in front of the mirror, I hear my phone ringing.

“Cathy Stanwood.”

“Hi, babe.” Hearing Ben’s deep voice makes me smile at my reflection. After eleven years together, not a day goes by when he doesn’t call or text me just to say hello and ask how my day is going. Sometimes I wonder if he will ever grow bored with me, with married life, kissing and having sex with just one woman, the same woman, for the rest of his life.

Does he ever imagine he’s fucking someone else when he’s inside of me?

I don’t have fantasies of other men, but I am bored…so bored. I often wonder when the ticking time bomb of our relationship will explode. If Ben will wake up one day and ask himself what he’s doing with me, and where his life has gone. If he’ll wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t met me, if we hadn’t bumped into each other on that rainy day, if we hadn’t met and fallen in love…

I know I do.

“Hi.” Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, I take the pocket size perfume I always carry with me and spray it on my body. Rubbing the perfume on my wrists, I’m enveloped by the fruity and citrusy notes of my favorite smell.

“What are you doing?” I say in the flirty voice that he enjoys so much. I rarely use it anymore. When we were young and deeply in love with each other, that voice came out only when I wanted two things: forgiveness or sex.

“Just got home. And I’m petting your pussy,” his deep voice rumbles in the phone.

“What?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, babe. I would like to, don’t get me wrong, but you aren’t here at the moment, so instead I’m cheating on you with Mimi.” I hear him chuckling as I picture what he’s doing at the moment.

Ben is probably sitting on the leather chair in his office, running a hand through his hair as our cat, Mimi, tries to crawl under his white Brooks Brothers dress shirt. His suit jacket will be thrown carelessly over the old worn out leather sofa that he refuses to get rid of because it reminds him of our first years as a married couple. He even named it.