On Monday morning, I arrived at my law office, where my assistant greeted me. Sara had hair that was variously light red or gold in the front, and when I called her, I was subjected to a Ramone's song. I didn't generally dig the Ramones. The Pistols, maybe, but not the Ramones. Still, she was fun, cool and efficient. Everybody loved her, including me. I noticed a guy sitting on the couch, in my peripheral vision. I wasn't aware that I had somebody coming in. I looked quizzically at Sara. She motioned me to come a little closer. I bent my head down, then she said in a low voice "this guy's here to see you." I looked at the man, and my heart quickened. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. In.my.life. Thick dark hair. Eyes greener than I had ever seen. He looked at me, an impish smile on his chiseled face, and, when he smiled, I noticed that his teeth were perfect, like he spent his entire younger years in braces. He was wearing an expensive-looking tailor-made grey suit with a silk shirt underneath. Italian shoes. I wondered why he would be in my office. He definitely didn't look the type who would be slumming with a bargain-basement divorce lawyer like myself, or filing for personal bankruptcy. Those were my two major areas of practice. I did some criminal law, as well, and he for sure didn't look like the kind of guy who would need a criminal attorney. Well, maybe a white collar criminal attorney, but those are the big wigs in the high rises. I was as far from a big wig as you could possibly imagine. At the same time, he looked so familiar... No. It couldn't be. Beautiful man stood up and smiled broadly. Tentatively, I said "Hello. Can I help you?" His smile disappeared. He ran one of his hands through his thick mane of dark hair, his head slightly cocked down, his mesmerizing eyes looking at me questioningly. 7I drew a breath. His face turned red. "Uh, I'm here to see you." "Oh, ok, sure. My office is right there," I said, pointing to the door. What the hell? He followed me in. Files were piled on the desk and on the floor, and on top of the computer. "Sorry about that," I said, frantically taking the piles on the desk and putting them on the floor behind me. I was suddenly nervous, and had no real idea why. This guy was magnetic, so he made me nervous, but it was more than that. I couldn't quite place him, but my subconscious mind knew exactly who he was. My subconscious just refused to communicate with me at the moment. "Have a seat." He sat down on the red tweed chair. My office was small, about 10 x 10, which was all I could afford. Although I was an attorney, I definitely was not a highly paid one. I spent most of my time worrying about people who didn't pay their bills, and chasing after them. Plus, my student loans from 7 years of schooling were choking the life out of me. He still had a quizzical look in those beautiful green eyes. Then he began. "You don't remember me, do you?" I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows in an expression that said "no, sorry." He looked down. "I'm really embarrassed. I guess I didn't know that you were that drunk the other night." At this point, I could feel my heart in my throat. No. It couldn't be. Never in a million years would I end up with somebody who looks like him. Never. I must be on Punk'd or something. Taking a deep breath, not really wanting to jump to conclusions, I said "I'm so sorry. I don't know what you mean." "Harry's Bar. You and I doing shots together. Any of this ringing a bell?" 8It was my turn to be embarrassed. Actually, it should've been my turn to be embarrassed when I first saw him. It was now becoming clear. I just didn't think that I would ever catch the eye of a guy like this. And I really didn't think that I would ever see my hotel mystery man again. "Um, did any of those shots happen to be te-killya?" I asked. He smiled. "A few." I felt tears coming to my eyes. I had no idea why. I lowered my head, putting it in my hands, then peeked through my hands at him. He was smiling again, and I was completely captivated. God, this guy could completely light up a pitch black room. Just the same, ending up with him was a lucky shot on my part, that no doubt included beer goggles for him. I mean, I was halfway decent looking - could lose a few pounds - "Gosh, I'm so embarrassed. Uh, I didn't act a fool, did I?" Of course I did. I usually did act a fool after tequila. "Not at all. You came up to me, and before I knew it, we were chatting like we were old friends. We talked for hours about everything from liberal politics to Oscar Wilde. I was quite impressed with your knowledge of The Importance of Being Earnest." He paused. "I think we even talked about the Kardashians." The Importance of Being Earnest. I actually had just read that play after seeing the movie. But I wondered why I would be talking about that. Still, it was impressive for me to find somebody who even knows who Oscar Wilde is. I couldn't tell you how many times I had met a guy who thought that Tennessee Williams was a country singer. He was looking embarrassed again. "Uh, I think I owe you an apology." I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head slightly. "For what?" "If I would've known you were that, uh..." 9"Smashed?" I said helpfully. "Yeah. Well, I wouldn't have..." "Taken me to a hotel room and torn my clothes off?" This was like a mad libs game. "Yeah." Oh, the irony. I end up with a jaw-droppingly beautiful man who was literate and was apparently liberal - at least I hoped so - and I didn't even get to have a good memory of it. I hoped that I enjoyed it at the time. Didn't matter, if I didn't remember it, then it didn't really happen. In my mind, at least. Then it struck me. Why was he here? And how did he find me? The only thing I could think of was that I left something in the hotel room, and he was enough of a gentleman to return it to me. But I couldn't imagine what it was that I left there. I realized something else. This guy was intimidatingly beautiful, yet I felt completely comfortable with him. Mesmerized, captivated, excited - but also completely comfortable. Like he said, I felt like I had known him all my life. He was still smiling at me impishly, his head slightly downward, his mouth half cocked. "So, I was wondering..." he began, his hand running through his thick mane again. "I was wondering if you would be interested in having drinks with me sometime." He wasn't looking me in the eye. Almost like he was shy. This guy, shy? He no doubt had women dripping all over him. Which almost made me want to turn him down. He had to be a womanizer. Anyhow, he was stratospheres out of my league. Light years. He was the Starship Enterprise, and I was earth. Or so went my brain. My heart, however, was noticing how comfortable I felt in his presence. Heart overruling brain, I simply said "sure." He smiled. "Friday night at Harry's? We can meet for Happy Hour and go from there." 10"Want to return to the scene of the crime, eh?" I asked with a smile. "Something like that." At that, we made a date to meet at Harry's at 5:30 on Friday. After he left, Melinda came in and said "Oh, sweet Jesus, that guy is beautiful. Where did you find him?" She was mock-fanning herself as she talked.
I smiled. "You wouldn't want to know." Your boss is a ho. "Now, shoo, get back to work." Friday couldn't get here fast enough.
TIME LEAP
Friday was finally here. I couldn't quite believe that this beautiful guy wanted to see me again, and it occurred to me, much to my acute embarrassment, that I didn't remember his name. I didn't really know how to ask him about that. I was in rare form, sleeping with a guy I just met, and getting that schnockered in the first place. It had been at least since college since I had done something like that, and have no memory of it the next day. Maybe he slipped me a roofie? God, I hoped not. I wouldn't want to think a guy like that would be a rapist. Lord knows he wouldn't have to resort to that to bed a woman. No, I was quite sure I managed to get that wasted all on my own. That was what happened when I start tequila shots. The old shirt that said "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor" summed up my reaction to that particular liquor. But somehow I managed to not only act coherent, but apparently act charming as well. Astounding. That afternoon, I left the office early for a hair appointment and a Brazilian. Yowch! They should use Brazilians as a torture method for Al Qaeda. That would get them talking in no time. Not that I was planning on sleeping with the guy again that night. My sober self was much more old-fashioned than that. Meeting him out, I was wearing my only pair of nice shoes, the red glitter Mary Jane Jimmy Choos from the night I met him. Those were my lucky shoes. They sure were lucky the other night, anyhow. They were high heeled, but that was good, because I needed the height. I stood 5'2", and this guy was at least 6'1". I pulled on a slimming black dress with a halter neck, which was always the most flattering neckline for me. I felt a bit selfconscious of my 30 extra pounds, then tried to banish the thought. A bit of foundation to cover up my freckles, some mascara for my light eyelashes, some lip gloss, and I was ready to go. I got to the bar, and looked around. Harry's is a classy upscale cigar bar where they served 30 different kinds of martinis, along 12with a limited menu mainly consisting of olives, hummus and different gourmet pizzas. It attracted an older crowd of sophisticates who were attracted to the expensive martinis and even more expensive cigars. The place was smallish, but it wasn't a hole in the wall, as it was two levels and also had a patio. The interior walls were cherry wood, as was the enormous bar, which ran the length of the main room. The floor was covered in white tile. The artwork in this bar favored Toulouse Lautrec - brightly coloured, with dancing girls and advertisements that looked like they were from the turn of the century. The crowd ranged from mid-20s to mid-60s, but most of the people in here were in their early thirties, by the looks of it. Beautiful man was already there. I looked at him and lost my breath momentarily. Dressed down in a blue short-sleeved shirt that brought out the marine flecks in his otherwise green eyes, with grey casual pants and black shoes, he looked like a Ralph Lauren model come to life. The short sleeves displayed his lean and muscular arms, and he looked like he didn't have an ounce of fat on him. He stood up when he saw me, a broad smile on his face. Now I was shaking. Not sure why I was having this reaction now. In my office, I felt much more comfortable. Maybe because it was my home turf. But here, in the bar, I felt intimidated by him. I would have to resist the urge to drink tonight. Alcohol was always my crutch in awkward social situations. Or any social situations. As I said before, you wouldn't know it, but I was quite shy. Or insecure at least. He met me halfway, and gave me a big hug. His body was warm and incredibly hard. He must have lived at the gym. I could hear his heart pounding as my head lay against his chest. We sat down, and he ordered for us - a Dewar's and water for him, a Grey Goose dirty martini for me. So much for my vow not to drink tonight. Well, maybe I will only have a few. 13The drinks came shortly, and I knew that I had to get the name issue out of the way. "So," I began. "Sorry, before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you that you look beautiful." I momentarily forgot my words. I pondered anew the possibility that I was on Punk'd, then just managed to say "thank you." "Now, you were saying," he said, looking at me with a soft expression. I took a deep breath. "This is the most embarrassing thing I have ever had to admit. But I, well, you know, I had a lot to drink the other night and-" "Jalal. My name is Jalal." He was still smiling, and his eyes told me that he thought it was humorous that I forgot his name. I could feel my face flushing. "How did you know what I was going to ask?" He shrugged. "I figured that if you didn't remember me at all when I came into your office, it stands to reason that you didn't remember my name, either." "About that. I hope you don't think that I make a habit of going home with men from a bar." "Damn. I was hoping I could get you hammered again and get you to pick up a girl here at the bar and do a three-way," he said with a smile. I laughed at that. "Sorry to burst your bubble," I said. "Well, I understand you're embarrassed. But don't be. It was uh, fun." Fun. I wished I could've remembered. "Anyhow, I could say the same. I hope you don't think that I'm some kind of manwh**e." "No, no, I don't think that at all." I paused, tucking my hair behind my ear, and taking a sip of my drink. It was salty and slightly sour. As I picked one of the olives from the little red toothpick to put in my mouth, I saw Jalal watching me interestedly. "I, uh, also wanted to apologize for just, you know, leaving in the morning." "Yeah, I was disappointed. I wanted to take you for breakfast." "I was totally embarrassed for being there. It was kinda shitty of me to do that, though." "Well, I was really glad that you gave me one of your business cards at the bar. Otherwise, I was going to have to do some serious research to find you." He took a sip of his Scotch rocks. "And I would've tried to find you, make no mistake about that." Wow. I must've been really charming the other night. Or really "fun." He was smiling. "So, I know we're doing this backwards, but we need to get to know each other." I couldn't remember what all I told him, so I didn't know if he knew the basics about me. This was so awkward, not knowing if what I might tell him would be something he had already heard. "So, what do you know about me?" I asked him. "That you are an attorney who aspires to do something else. Maybe be a writer or an animal rights activist. Or the leader of a new Occupy movement with teeth. You want to eradicate all big money from politics, and liberate every factory farm animal on the face of the earth. That you have gorgeous black hair." Jalal crunched on some ice thoughtfully, then shook his now-empty glass and looked around for the waitress. She was there in a flash to take our next order. Then he continued. "And you think that The Importance of Being Earnest was the funniest story you've ever read." "Wow. I really was spouting off, wasn't I?" I knew that I tended not to have a filter when I was drinking, but still couldn't believe that I told this guy my life story in one sitting. And, of course, I was a hypocrite, because, while I am a deep animal lover, I ate chicken and fish. 15"No, not spouting off. You just came off as...passionate. You think about the world, even though you know that you can do little about it. That's refreshing. You're like a realistic idealist." He picked up a bar napkin, then laid it down and started doodling on it. The guy was quite an artist. Not looking up, he proceeded. "And the fact that you said that an Oscar Wilde play is one of your favorites really drew me to you. Because he is one of my favorite playwrights too." I blinked my eyes, not quite grasping what was going on. It all seemed surreal. As surreal as the drawing on the napkin was turning out. After it was done, he handed it to me with a smile. "For you," he said. The drawing was a like a miniature Dali painting, with little melting hearts into finger tips and a single eye hovering above. It was charming, and I couldn't believe he put it together so quickly. "Impressive," I began. "So, let me guess. You're a graphic artist?" He shook his head. "Bank president." "Ah. Should've known." "Why is that?" "You looked like a bank president the other day. All suited up." He stirred his drink, squeezing his lime into it. His eyes didn't meet mine. I instinctively knew something was wrong, so I asked him. "Nothing's wrong. I just like you, that's all." "I like you too," I said. But why did he seem to not want to talk to me about himself? Then he asked, out of the blue "Do you like to mountain bike? "I've never been, to be honest." "Would you like to try? I know some great trails here in town." 16"Well, I, uh, don't really have a bike for that. I mean, I have a road bike, and I used to like to do that, but I haven't lately. As you can probably tell." He ignored that last comment. "I have a bike you can borrow, if you like. But only if you want to go." He had the puppy-dog expression again. I took a deep breath, not really knowing what I was getting into. "Ok, sure. When would you like to go?" "Uh, what are you doing tomorrow morning?" "No special plans, actually." "Pick you up at 8?" "Sure." I was starting to feel the dirty martinis working on me. I looked at this martini, my second, and made a mental note to stop. I wasn't going to get liquored up again - the guy might think that I have a drinking problem. Plus, I didn't want to sleep with him that night. It had been my experience that a relationship that started with sex ends up being a relationship that was all about sex, and I wanted to really get to know him before hitting the sack with him again. As I said, I was an old-fashioned girl at heart. At least I am when I am sober. Our conversation continued from there, for the rest of the evening, and continued when we left the bar to go to dinner at a steakhouse. Natural, flowing, easy, never an awkward moment of silence. It was as if we were childhood friends who grew up together and knew every intimate detail about one another. We were finishing each other's sentences by the end of the evening. But, as we talked, I casually looked around the restaurant. As I did, I noticed quite a few people staring at Ryan. Not just women, but men, too. Even the ones you would never suspect. And I immediately felt self-conscious. I mean, I guess I am somewhat cute, but this guy was magnetic, and everybody in the bar knew it. All the dirty martinis in the world wouldn't erase the 17self-doubt that was creeping into my brain with every lustful glance I saw from the patrons at the bar. With a sinking heart, I knew that I would have to cut it short before I became too involved with a guy who was stratospheres out of my league. My hand shaking, I began "Jalal, this has been an amazing evening. But I don't think-" I never finished my sentence, because he was over on my side of the table in a flash. He put his hand in my hair and gave me a soft kiss. With tongue. Electricity shot through my body and I realized that I was no longer breathing. My heart stopped for a brief second, and I was trembling more than ever. He looked into my eyes with his penetrating green eyes with long, dark lashes. "Iris, please. I can tell that you feel that I am better than you, but I don't want you to think that. I like you. I really like you. I want to spend more time with you." I wasn't really hearing him. His kiss had stunned me, had made the rest of the world stop. I could hear my heartbeat, and my breathing, but could hear little else. I realized that I continued just to stare at him. He was still kneeling in front of me, his eyes pleading a little. I could also see desire in his eyes. "I..." There were no other words. I blinked rapidly, coming out of my brief catatonia. He was finally standing up, his hand out. I stood up too, and he grabbed my hand and smiled. I still couldn't speak. "I paid the bill. Let's go get my car, and I'll drive you to yours." I dazedly followed. He opened the door, and the night air brought me a little bit more to my senses. It was still over 90 degrees, even though it was 11:30. He held my hand as we walked down the street. I could still feel my hand trembling a little. My legs felt like spaghetti. 18He was talking. "Now, with mountain biking, you just have to feel like you are in control. You have to make the bike and the trails your bitch. That's the secret. Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. We'll begin you on the slightest grade of trail, although you'll soon get bored with that, and want to graduate to a bigger trail. But I don't want to rush you." I must've had a look of horror on my face when he said that, because he hurriedly added "but only if you feel comfortable." God, I feel dumb. Why couldn't I talk? We were soon at his car, and I felt even more intimidated. The guy had a brand new Porsche 911. What the hell is he doing with me? He opened the car door. As I started to get into the door, he put his hands on my shoulders. Then he put one hand in my hair as he leaned to kiss me again. His tongue was slowly exploring inside my mouth. I was aware that I wasn't breathing again. I was also aware of his heartbeat, which was surprisingly loud. The kiss was longer and deeper than the one in the restaurant. The jolt of electricity that I felt during the first kiss was stronger now, coursing completely through my body. My heart was beating fast and hard. His kiss remained soft, his lips feathering on mine, his tongue lightly gliding just inside my mouth. He was an amazing kisser. After what seemed like an eternity, he broke away. I looked up, and he was looking down at me, smiling, his hand still in my hair. I was aware that his other hand was around my waist gently. My breath caught. I was still shaking. Smiling, he gestured for me to get into the car. I stumbled into the front seat, my legs giving way beneath me. I was vaguely aware that he was fastening my seatbelt, then getting into the driver's seat next to me. Once he got into the driver's seat, he leaned over and kissed me again, feathery, light. Then we were off. We drove in silence to my car, which was a beat-up 15-yearold RAV4 named Priscilla, because she was purple. I still didn't I didn't even run my negative loop in my head - too soon, don't be crazy, he just wants to get you into bed again. "Um, yes, I'll see you tomorrow," I managed to mumble, stunned once again. "Tomorrow. Remember, the bike is your bitch." I laughed. "Yes, my bitch." "Good night beautiful." "'Night." We hung up, and I drifted off to sleep
so for very late update😭 I'm damm busy with studies😡😡 this chapter was ready 2 months back😭 but could'nt post it😭 so sorry
hope u like the chapter do hit the LIKE button😳
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