Manhattan Muse: A Contemporary Romance (3 page)

My phone chirped a tri-tone in the middle of my class’s routine, making everyone fall offbeat at the rarity. I hadn’t told anyone about my date five days ago, partially because I had wanted to forget about it as well.

As I watched everyone slow around me and stare at my phone across the room, I curbed my routine and tried to conceal my panting.

“Great-great work guys,” I said, holding my chest.
“Mellissa, great form. I told you, it does wonders for your posture. You are already starting to hold your head up higher.”

Another tri-tone sounded from the corner of the room and, after letting out a sigh
which in part was to help steady my breath, I turned to my class and curtsied.

“You are free to go,” I said, still out of breath.

“Miss-” Mellissa said.

“Please, call me Molly,” I said, toweling off.

“Are you going to get that?” Mellissa said. I wasn’t a fool. I knew my text messages weren’t the reason she was lingering.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to make my response sound natural. “I was just going to dry off first.
Get going – you are going to be late to your next class.”

She gave me a wry smile before turning on her heel
and bouncing towards the double doors. Moments later, I was left to stand in an empty dance studio swallowing my pride. I knew this day would come.

Picking up my phone, I read the two messages in my inbox.

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in five days. I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and tell myself you were busy.

I looked away from my phone and took a deep breath. According to the dating rules I played by, I wasn’t the one who was supposed to continuously pursue my interest. Furthermore, I was still dead set on not starting a relationship with anyone right now.

I scrolled down to the subsequent message.

Anyways, dessert tonight at 9?
I’m back on the East Coast.

I couldn’t tell if the reason it sounded condescending was because it was a text message or because of
its phrasing. I admit I was a little embarrassed by how much I had drank and the way I had carried myself the night of the date. I had chosen the wrong way to bury my sorrows and, up until just now, I was sure I had scared him off.

Wasn’t it just my luck that he was still chasing me?

I already made plans for this weekend,
I typed.

My thumb hit send and I heard my phone confirm that the message had left the draft box. I set it down on the table to get dressed for the subway ride home only to have it buzz two seconds later.

Don’t think you are getting off that easily.

My eyebrow rose as if to challenge him before tossing my phone my in bag and commuting back to my apartment.

“So, Moo-Moo,” Adam said, wiping the remnants of his meal from his mouth before flashing me his immaculate smile. “How goes everything?”

He was the lead singer of the band I had toured with across the world. We shared a past more or less and, whether I liked it or not, Moo-Moo was the nickna
me he had given me years prior.

“I’m doing just fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Been dancing, bartending… you know.”

“Huh,” Adam said. “So, are those the only reasons you turned down performing in our world tour?”

I let out a shaky laugh before nodding.

“I see,” Adam said. He fed me another bite of our dutch apple treat. “You make a horrible liar, Molly.”

“And you make a horrible effort at being humble,” I said.

His lips stretched over all thirty-two of his teeth at my comment. He was scrawny with character scattered across his body. I had found my favorite pockets under his clothes years prior, and the thought of seeing them again tonight took my insides to new heights.

I lo
oked up to return Adam’s smile but found my eyes focusing on a face in my peripheral vision just past Adam’s pierced earlobe. 

My fork fell from my mouth as I noticed it was
Nate, who had snapped his head back to the woman sitting across from him as soon as our eyes locked. She had gorgeous flowing blonde locks with complementary silver shadow tinting her fluttering eyelids. Her crossed slender legs had a brilliant sheen in the mood lighting under their table.

A
pit formed in my stomach as I realized these are some of the features I would lose on my body in a few months when I underwent chemotherapy.

I turned my head away as tears clawed at the edges of my eyelids, begging to be released.

“You OK, babe?” Adam said. His hand grazed the top of my arm ever so gently. Nate’s neck snap back to our table at Adam’s show of affection and I wanted to sink into the floor.

“Yeah, I just....” I started but I couldn’t bring myself to suggest what I wanted – to leave.

Adam’s napkin fell to the top of the white tablecloth as he laid money on the table.

“Come on,” Adam said, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He guided me out of the restaurant with his patented protective stance. We made it outside and I watched his figure pace as he called for his personal driving service. My phone buzz and I regretted reading its message.

He’s dangerous.

The anger bubbled up inside of me. After the past month of everything out of my control dictating my future, it sickened me to hear someone else try to tell me what to do.

Tears st
reamed down my face as Adam returned to my post. His hands cradled my face in their palms and he looked into my eyes.

“Adam,” I whispered through soft sobs. “I have breast cancer.”

Adam drew back as his driver pulled up to the curb. The door was opened for us to get in moments later and breaking eye contact with him was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

As soon as the car door shut,
Adam slammed the divider between the driver and pulled me into the tightest embrace.

I woke up the next morning on the other side of my bed. My fingers combed my hair back as I sat up to look at the clock. A note of scratchy scrawl covered the time.

I smile stretched my lips.

My flight back to LA changed times on me, but don’t think I’m done kissing away the ‘imperfections.’

~Adam

My breasts tingled at the thought of his lips hiking their mountainous terrain again. He had called them his Hollywood Hills which had produced the first giggle since the restaurant. While it was probably a bad decision to let him stay over, a warm body next to me was exactly what I had needed and I wasn’t ashamed.

Throwing on my silky Japanese themed bathrobe, I tiptoed barefoot int
o the kitchen before breaking out in dance. The sound of the doorbell halted my routine in its tracks, and after a moment’s pause I walked over and pressed the button to speak.

“Yes?” I said, almost certain it was someone who had pressed the wrong apartment button.

“Uh, hi,” the shaky voice called back, and my heart dropped as soon as I recognized it. “I brought breakfast.”

I peered out my window to the front door of the complex. On the porch, I saw
Nate’s broad figure dressed in a brown leather jacket and dark jeans slouched over the intercom system.

I debated for a moment more as the curtains swung back into place and then buzzed him in.

My hand cradled my head as I listened to each one of his heavy footsteps make their way to my front door. Wrapping my bathrobe tighter around my naked body, I opened the door to Nate.

His eyes met my tangled hair and I was sure he could smell the sexed aroma in my apartment. My hands reached to fix my matted locks out of nervousness. Instead of combing, they pulled out more strands than usual.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Nate said, slowly turning back to the door.

I jolted upright and, after swiftly throwing my free strands in the kitchen trashcan and painting on a cover-up smile, I looked to him.

“No, it’s quite alright,” I said. “I was awake already. I’m just slow to rise. Let me go change. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

I pranced out of the room to my closet where I pulled on a cotton dress and a few swipes of deodorant.

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Nate called. I could hear that he found the plates and silverware with ease. “Do you always lie to make others feel better?”

I eased into the kitchen ringing my hands in nervousness. Never had anyone called me out on that before.

“You could call it one of my bad habits,” I said with a frown. I took my seat and watched as he served me a tall coffee and two different halves of gourmet breakfast sandwiches. “Thank you.”

I saw the color rise to his cheeks as he opened the top of my coffee.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee,” Nate said, ignoring my comment. “So I kept it black so that you could teach me.”

I stared at him in silence watching him fidget with his own plate. I had never seen him act like this. He acted as though he was more vulnerable than I was in this situation. With each new act of kindness, a new string attached to my heart despite how much I fought it. It was going to be so hard to break his heart.

“I just wanted to make sure you were OK,” Nate said, finally filling the crippling silence.

“I know, that’s why I said thank you,” I said calmly picking up the sugar and creamer.
“Half a teaspoon of sugar. Milk until it is exactly this color.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. We ate in silence again for five painful minutes. The sounds of his chewing were soothing. It had been a long time since I had eaten a meal at home with anyone. I hoped I hadn’t become a swine at the table in that amount of time.

“I had an amazing time with you at dinner,” Nate said. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated as soon as the words flew out of his mouth.

Even though my heart was racing, I forced my words to remain calm and steady.

“I drank too much,” I said, my cheeks becoming rosy with embarrassment.

“I don’t think you did,”
Nate said. “And I don’t mind.”

I was getting irritated with the elephant in the room. I placed the remaining sandwich half on my plate and looked at
Nate while I wiped my fingers.

“
Nate, he’s not your competition,” I said. Nate’s mouth fell open to defend himself but I cut him off before he could speak. “I’m not lying to make you feel better either. I’m serious when I say that he isn’t….”

I didn’t want to say the word boyfriend.

His fingers glided across his lips in contemplation as I polished off my plate. I looked to his plate which had been licked clean for a while.

“Are you sure you are going to be full?” I said, getting up to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “A man your size must eat more than a sandwich to keep up that weight.”

I turned around as I realized he had cheated on his protein diet –
twice
.

“Let me cook you chicken and some brown rice,” I said. “How dare you put me before
yourself.”

He got up abruptly from the table with coffee in hand, looking straight into my eyes.

“What if I want to?” Nate said before his hand found his front pocket. He turned to the door and before going through it, spat the next few words. “You can cook for me on Thursday. I’ll bring the wine and movie.”

He didn’t even give me a chance to answer before he exited. I stood by the sink in disbelief as I listened to his footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs and heard the front door shut.

Through the curtains, I saw his frame cross the street and mingle in the crowd below. I didn’t know where he was going, but I was shocked that on Thursday he would be coming back whether I liked it or not.

“Here you go, Molly,” Spencer said while handing me my paycheck. The other girls were sitting around the mirrors painting on their game faces as I opened it to take out the tip money from last night that I forgot to pick up.

“Girl, you never come to pick up your check,” Sugar said, fluffing her weave. “What’s the big event tonight?”

I smiled as I looked coyly at Spencer, who was holding his breath through his clenched jaw.

“I am cooking for someone tonight,” I said before turning back to Sugar. “I need grocery money.”

“Girl!” Sugar said before I exited the club and walked the two blocks to Dean and Deluca. Pulling out my list, I picked all of the fresh ingredients I needed for tonight’s meal. As soon as the delivery boys brought the bags up the steps, I started in on my five-course masterpiece.

With a two-step and my laptop blasting my favorite playlist, I pranced around my kitchen with my apron strings swaying in the vanilla-scented air. Five minutes in, I lost myself in the melody and made every task part of the beat. My kitchen and I were in complete harmony.

As I whipped, chopped, and stirred ingredients, the guilt began to overwhelm my heart as it had days prior. I felt as if I owed Nate an explanation. I had felt this way since he had walked out of my apartment after breakfast.

It was true that Adam wasn’t my boyfriend. He wasn’t even an interest, and that’s why I liked our arrangement. He was convenient. However, after telling
Nate that I wasn’t, as I put it, “that type of girl,” I realized I had done the exact opposite of what I wanted to portray.

I believed that’s why I found myself with five different plates in the oven when the doorbell rang. With a bottle of wine in hand just as he had promised,
Nate entered the apartment and was knocked back by the aroma of foods laid out on the table.

“Wow…”
Nate started as he gingerly set down his contributions on the table. His eyes hadn’t peeled off of my creations since he had walked in the door.

“
Nate,” I said, picking my fingernails as he looked up at me. “Before we eat, I wanted to talk about something.”

Nate
’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, producing a diamond shape of folded skin in between them. He nodded his head while he tended to opening the bottle of wine.

“Since you left the other day, I have felt horrible,” I said.
Nate stopped what he was doing and set everything down on the table to give me his full attention. I braced myself on the edge of the table to rid myself of nervous fidgeting. “I told you I wasn’t one of those girls, and then I showed you the exact opposite of that.”

Nate
’s hand flew up to cut me off but I kept going.

“The truth is,” I said. “I just like the convenience right now, and sticking to what I have known for the past two years is working out well for me.”

I was hoping he would read into my words and come to the conclusion that I wasn’t looking for something serious right now.

“It’s quite alright, Molly,”
Nate said. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

While that last line could have sounded menacing, his body relaxed in front of me into an open stance validating that it was sincere.

Nate’s eyes scanned the table, still in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,”
Nate said.

“You asked me to cook for you,” I said, with a giggle. “You get what you deserve. I told you to come hungry.”

“I’m famished,” Nate said. At that, I turned to place a bowl of Muligatawny soup in front of him. A few moments later, I joined him as he finished pouring wine in each of our glasses.

“So, let me ask,”
Nate said after humming with his first taste. It brought a sheepish smile to my face. “Are you the type of girl who wears leggings as pants?”

My hand flew up to my hair as it had on our night out as a giggle escaped my lips.

“I think it’s a crime for dancers not to,” I said, looking down at my fall outfit.

“Good, because despite all of their negative commentary,”
Nate said, taking another slurp of his soup. “I like it.”

I smiled once more before polishing off my bowl of soup. Getting up to serve the second course, a cranberry and mixed greens salad with almond
butter dressing, I quickly started in on the litany of questions I had lined up prior to his arrival.

“Quite frankly, I am tired of talking about myself,” I said as I heard him moan once more as the glaze found his tongue. “I want to know about you.”

Nate flipped his eyelids my way as he forked another bite into his mouth.

“What questions could you possibly have for me that you couldn’t find the answers to on the internet?”
Nate said, his eyes dancing across my flourishing cheeks.

I diffused his comment with my own.

“Sorry, but I don’t have the time to stalk people online,” I said. Scooping the last of the dressing onto the side of my fork, I licked it clean while I our eyes met. “So, what’s your favorite color?”

“Green,”
Nate said, as his eyes focused deeper on mine. “Like your eyes.”

My gaze dropped to the table coyly as I got up once more to serve the next course. Walking to the fridge, I pulled out two complementary rich beers and popped their lids off with the opener.

“Well, I already learned that you are a beer man,” I said. “And while I don’t like football much, I’m assuming you played in high school?”

Setting them on the table as the carbonation settled, I brushed the remaining maple glaze onto my roasted duck. I placed both duck breasts on beds of oriental-infused rice and placed them in front of our seats.

“What did I tell you about assuming, Molly?” Nate said, his amazement peaking as he looked down at his third course. “I was actually really scrawny in high school. No sports, just… dance. My mom was an instructor.”

I shot him a glance that was meant to destroy his joke in midair. However, when I saw that he wasn’t lying I set down my fork.

“Interesting,” I said. “You weren’t half bad.”

“You are being modest,”
Nate said, keeping his humility the top characteristic peaking my interest.

“How old are you?” I said, looking him up and down. In my mind, I didn’t put him past twenty-six. Thinking to my own twenty-two year old wisdom, I validated our potential compatibility.

“Thirty-one,” Nate said, and I felt my insides lurch as if they wanted to purge their contents. My head tilted back in disbelief before looking away to the side. “You do that a lot, you know.”

I took a deep breath before taking a large swig of my beer. It was
my favorite local brew, and it went well with the texture of the duck.

“And you are?”
Nate said. “Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-two,” I said, watching him try not to spit up his food as well. I nodded sarcastically at him as he
reacted the same as I had as I got up to serve the last meal we would eat at the table.

“See, this is why internet stalking is mandatory,”
Nate said, trying to laugh off our discomfort. When I didn’t turn around or respond, he filled the silence with condolences. “It doesn’t bother me, Molly. It actually intrigues me.”

As I situated his plate of roast beef au jus in front of him, I gave a wry smile.

“I suppose I have a history of being attracted to older men,” I said.

This brought the biggest grin to his face.

“I believe you just gave yourself away, Miss Molly,” Nate said. His eyes pierced into mine once more as I sat down. They swam up my veins, dodging the palpitations of my heart, and flooded my entire body with a rushing warmth.

“I did no such thing,” I said. And for the remainder of the fourth course, we didn’t exchange any words except the hums that escaped his lips.

Clearing our plates, I picked up his glass of wine and ushered his sluggish build into the living room. As I popped the disc into the DVD player, I felt my self-conscious guilt creep back into place as my left breast grazed my knee. It was strange how a small trigger can call forth a host of bad thoughts.

I cleared my throat before I curled up on my usual side of the couch. Taking my first sip of wine tonight, I mentally patted myself on the back for not using alcohol as a crutch.

After the previews rolled by and the main scene lit up on the screen, I turned to Nate before I hit play. He was sprawled out on the couch in a food coma, but it didn’t stop him from sitting up to meet my gaze.

“I’m still afraid you are judging me,” I said softly as a frown painted across my face.

Nate’s hand grazed my cheek to allow his fingers to comb my styled locks.

“Quite frankly, I have better things to do with my time, Molly,”
Nate said, before leaning in. “Such as kissing you.”

With one swift motion of his lips, I lost myself in their soft embrace.
My body relaxed as he lifted the weight of the world off of my shoulders and made every worry I had dissipate through our meshed lips.

Saying goodnight to
Nate that evening was excruciating. After I closed the door receiving yet another token of Nate’s gratitude for my cooking, my smile faded into sobs as my back slide down the wall.

I had just met the most genuine man to ever walk into my lif
e, and it just so happened that, due to circumstances out of my control, the timing was off.

I didn’t want to lead
Nate on, but I didn’t want him to disappear either. As I recalled how it felt to be in his arms and tangled in his lips, I let out a sigh.

It was as if a lullaby was playing softly every time
he innocently touched my skin, caressing away the worry and pain. Locked in his bulky arms, I felt safe from all evil. Cradled in his embrace, I forgot about my health and finances. Kissing him, I felt at home.

These were the reasons why I broke down as soon as his last footstep sounded in the apartment complex lobby.

I didn’t want to let him go, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not having him around. He was my light in the dark. He was the calm before the storm.

He was security instead of convenience.