Bittersweet (Xcite Romance) (2 page)

‘Whatever you say, honey. I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.’ My tone was more than a bit sarcastic.

When I returned, after exchanging my comfy jeans and pullover for some tall boots and a loosely buttoned silk blouse under a figure-flattering, belted cardigan dress, it was clear that the two men waiting for me were discussing something of importance. Though, as I entered the living room, their faces relaxed into looks of delight.

‘Does this work for you, Keith?’ I asked haughtily, with one hand on my hip.

Evan stepped forward with my coat. ‘You look amazing, Sabrina,’ he breathed, holding it up for me to slide it on.

‘Well, then, I guess we will see you later, Keith,’ I said in the doorway, offering one more opportunity for him to explain this outlandish scheme of his.

He did nothing more than reply, ‘I’ll be here when you return.’

I tossed my keys to Evan in the driveway. ‘No way are we taking your car. I’m not giving up my heated seats in this frigid weather.’ When we pulled out of the driveway, I was already asking him where we were going.

‘This information is on a need-to-know basis,’ he half-joked in a way that told me no amount of prodding would compel him to answer any differently. ’Just relax and see what happens.’

By the time we turned onto the Parkway, it seemed the heat radiating from the leather seats of my BMW was serving to warm my icy disposition as much as my chilled rear-end. I settled back and let myself get a little excited about not knowing what the day would bring. It’s no secret that I am a control freak, and it is no fault but my own that I can count on my hand the times I have been really exhilarated. My entire life has been highly structured. You don’t earn your doctorate by 30 and become a senior curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Classical Antiquity collection in only two years without being ridiculously self-disciplined. Glancing at Evan, I could suddenly begin to appreciate the freedom found in not planning every minute of your day. He caught my eye and smiled softly, revealing his own optimism about the events to come.

‘What do you do with yourself when you’re not playing secret agent for my husband?’ I asked playfully, curious to know more about him.

‘Working for Keith can leave me a bit mentally spent at the end of the day, but most weekends I either bike Central Park or catch a pick-up game in the Village.’

‘Mentally spent, huh? I know, Keith can be hard to keep up with,’ I said, chuckling a bit.

‘I have no problems keeping up with him, Sabrina; I just like to maintain some balance in my life. Every minute doesn’t need to be spent pontificating about some deep intellectual enigma. Sometimes it’s the simplicity of life that is the most gratifying.’

I rolled my eyes in defiance of the way he wove a not-so-subtle commentary on my own life into his response. ‘Well, I hope that he’s paying you overtime for making you work on a Sunday,’ I said.

‘He’s not paying me anything ... and this is not work,’ he answered with a wink, causing me to smile.

‘Then what is it?’ I countered.

He changed the subject. ‘You must be hungry. Keith tells me that you never eat breakfast.’

‘Is that right? I never imagined that my eating habits would be a topic of your conversations.’

‘Well, our first stop will be lunch,’ he said, pulling into a parking garage.

The restaurant was a small Moroccan place on 9th Ave and not much to look at from the outside. I remember thinking that the dining room was very dimly lit for the middle of the day, creating an ambience of mystery.

‘Wow, the food must be great here,’ I commented, noticing the place was almost full and thinking that was also odd for such an obscure little dive. We were seated at a table near a circular clearing in the centre of the room and next to a bunch of middle-aged women on a ladies’ lunch.

Evan, familiar with the menu, walked me through the choices and helped me select. He declined silverware, opting to share our dishes in the traditional fashion – with our hands. Before long, he was helping me understand which condiments go with each dish and slipping me a sample inside a torn piece of flatbread. I asked him for another taste simply for the opportunity to have him place his fingers in my mouth again. I could tell that he was just as happy to oblige, and he ended up feeding me almost my entire meal.

Between bites, he told me about his time spent in the Middle East studying archaeology for a semester. I began to see why Keith always spoke so highly of him. I always wore my accomplished resume on my sleeve. Meanwhile, Evan was full of impressive experiences and worldly insight with his modesty making me feel like a show-off. I was caught up in one of his stories and equally lost in his eyes when a beautiful belly-dancer rang a small bell and drew our attention to the centre of the circle.

She was joined by a trio of musicians and another dancer. Once the music started, they instantly began to make their way around the tables, their fluid hip movements mesmerizing everyone. I clapped along with the music, prompted by Evan’s improvisational drumming on the table. Suddenly she was at my side, inviting me to join her. The women next to us were already out of their seats, excitedly trying out moves as the other dancer instructed. I cringed at the idea of joining in, having never relished the notion of trying anything in public with which I was not already familiar.

Evan reached for my hand and placed it into hers. ’I, for one, would love to see you shake those hips of yours,’ he whispered, nodding in her direction. And so I did something so very uncharacteristic: I took a risk at looking ridiculous in exchange for the thrill. The dancer pressed herself against me from behind, matching my silhouette and sliding her hands onto my hips to guide me in slow motion through the mechanics of her gyrations. I glanced at the other women and noted that none of them were getting the special attention that I was. Evan’s satisfied look suggested that he had planned the whole episode in advance, even arranging my more intimate instructions.

She smelled of jasmine and vanilla, and her hair fell past her shoulder and onto mine, her whispers of encouragement tickling my ear. The music was as foreign and exotic as the beauty winding behind me and it only took a bit more goading from Evan for me to decide not to disappoint and meet the challenge with my usual initiative. As I became accustomed to the movements, the belly-dancer increased her tempo, and Evan continued to drum his beat on the table with enthusiasm. I loved the sensual power of this ancient art form and found the lustful concentration in Evan’s eyes exhilarating to say the least. His gaze was glued to me, and I was imagining what it would be like to give him an instant replay in the nude. When the music changed, the two dancers returned to the centre of the circle with a melodic duet of shimmering finger cymbals to continue their routine alone.

We didn’t stay for the rest. Evan paid the bill and we were laughing our way down the street at how he thought I must have been a sultan’s concubine in a previous life. Fittingly, we passed a tarot card reader and he abruptly stopped in front of her door. ‘Let’s find out,’ he said and rang the buzzer.

There is no way that I would have ever stepped foot in such a place without Evan’s impromptu suggestion. For what purpose? I always believed that kind of thing was for crackpots and suckers, and I certainly refused to be made a fool of by anybody. But looking at Evan with his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin and a glint of adventure in his eye, I entered with mild intrigue.

She didn’t waste any time, sitting us down across from her on a green velvet sofa for what she called a “Karmic Reading”. With knotted, gnarled hands that moved like silk, she laid the cards in front of me and began. ‘You have lost something dear to you and don’t know where to find it,’ she murmured and I nodded, playing along. ‘You were born with a longing left over from your past life, a longing you carry with you until this day.’ She turned another card. ‘You will suffer more loss before you find yourself fulfilled.’

‘Well, this is a real drag,’ I scoffed with exaggerated drama and giggled to Evan about the absurdity of the whole thing.

‘You love deeply – intensely,’ she continued, undaunted by my cynicism, and turned another card. ‘You have yet to know the full power of this love, but it is near if you will only accept it.’ I’d heard enough and hastily thanked her before excusing myself to wait for Evan outside. Trite as the old hack was, she hit a chord that I wasn’t ready to hear.

‘Too close for comfort?’ Evan asked, joining me for the walk back to the garage.

‘That stuff is total bullshit. Don’t tell me you believe that crap,’ I said, hoping that the old adage,
Methinks thou doth protest too much,
would not be attributed to my dismissive reply. He quietly stared at me for a few moments before speaking, while my gaze flitted anywhere but back in return.

‘You do know what she said could apply to anyone. That’s how they make it seem so real,’ he stepped in a little closer and wrapped my dragging scarf neatly around my neck. ‘I mean, who can say they’re totally fulfilled, right?’

I took an exasperated breath. ‘You know when someone asks me how are things, I’ve always said “Who, me? I’m great – got it all under control”, but I can’t even manage to get that bullshit line out anymore.’ Such a sudden blurt of honesty took me as much by surprise as it did Evan and I quickly busied myself with putting on my gloves, hoping that the comment would go unremarked.

‘It’s OK to feel overwhelmed, Sabrina,’ he said softly, the words dripping from his lips like a soothing elixir. ‘You don’t have to be invincible.’

‘I don’t?’ I asked in a deadpan tone, half-joking, half-serious. ‘Who’s going to let me take a day off from being everything to everyone?’

‘I am. And this is your day off,’ he said with an extended arm for me to slip my leather cloaked hand into. I readily accepted his invitation.

‘It’s supposed to be your day off,’ I reminded him as we started again back to the car.

‘Let’s just call it our day off ... together,’ he resolved and draped his arm around me for added warmth. It was just about inappropriate, but in the chilling wind, the gesture could have merely been received as an act of chivalry from a well-mannered gentleman. Still, even through the thickness of our heavy coats I could feel my skin burn with excitement in the shelter of his closeness. Perhaps the only scandalous bit was the way I imagined heading to a hotel to finally feel those arms wrapped around my waist as he plunged into me.

The drought between my legs was making me feel like a horny teenager, but the beauty of his character created quite a different reaction. I wanted to share myself with him, my thoughts, my dreams. I was bursting at the seams for a chance to have a conversation marked with plain truth and bare emotion. It had been months since Keith and I shared more than a comment about the news or the price of home heating oil. What was bottled up inside of me was simply eating me alive, and while driving uptown to our next destination, I let most of it pour out onto Evan’s lap.

‘You can’t imagine how hard it is to watch someone you love suffer. Keith is just withering away before my eyes, and I just don’t know how to reach him.’ He let me speak, listening intently. ‘I have been nothing but supportive; encouraging him to return to his work, to take control of his life again ... But nothing seems to help. I don’t even know him anymore. The man I married wouldn’t let anything destroy him like this. Not even the loss of his legs. The accident, it broke him ...’ I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye and propped my hand under my chin as I absently watched a tugboat cutting through the Hudson. ‘It broke him and it’s breaking my heart.’

Evan put his hand on my knee in gentle reassurance. ‘He loves you, Sabrina. You cannot know how deeply.’

‘He may still love me, but he’s been so distant for so long that I’m starting to forget what his love even feels like.’ I breathed a hard sigh and turned to him. ‘I know it’s terrible to think of myself when he’s the one who has lost so much. But the truth is that I lost a lot in that accident, too. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out how to get it back.’

‘You shouldn’t,’ he said.

‘Shouldn’t what?’

‘You shouldn’t feel terrible,’ he pronounced simply and pulled over into a small parking lot adjacent to the river.

I started to contest his absolution of my guilt, but he took my hand so tenderly that it just made me want to say, ‘Thank you.’

He smiled back, sincerity gleaming in his dark grey eyes. ‘Keith wants you to have fun today – not get all hung up on the sad stuff.’ He smiled a little wider now. ‘It’s my mission to put a smile on your face, and nothing’s going to get in my way – you hear me?’

‘Yes, sir,’ I responded in a disciplined tone, managing a small smile of my own. He was jumping out of the car and proceeding to help me from the passenger seat in no time.

Stepping into the wind whipping off the Hudson, I instantly shielded myself from its icy onslaught, turning and noticing a helicopter about 100 feet away. In response to the inquisitive look on my face, Evan nodded his head. ‘Yeah, we are taking a ride on that thing.’

I was blown away. A helicopter ride over Manhattan was something I had always wanted to do but had never made the time for. Some of the most invigorating experiences in New York go completely ignored by the people who live there.
Nothing like taking something for granted until all that’s left are missed opportunities
, I mused as we strolled over to the office to check in. ‘How did you know this was on my “have to do before I die” list?’ I asked Evan while the attendant behind the counter ran his credit card.

‘Keith told me,’ he answered.

‘You two have been planning this for a while, haven’t you?’

He shrugged mysteriously before saying, ‘Long enough.’

The pilot cranked the engine and exhilaration rushed through my body as the beating rotors pounded in my chest. The churn was slow at first, a sultry drumming like a resting heartbeat and then faster and faster, until I beamed with excitement as I watched the ground take leave beneath us. And when I looked up at Evan with childlike wonder in my eyes, he was always looking right back at me, seemingly more intrigued with my growing smile than the sights that abounded all around us.