Grand Gestures!

“We are going to lunch” you exclaimed, less so a request, more of a proclamation!  I smile.

I look up from my paperwork and see the man I had been dancing around for 5 years.  For 5 years we have been intimately circling each other politely, our thoughts less so polite, resisting each other, making sure we never get stuck in a lift together … alone.  In flops Jarrod Sterling, taking the chair and indeed my office by surprise.

“Are we now?” I ask, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.  We had never done lunch before, well never at his insistence.  It feels ominous; some kind of statement, my heart sinks as the options buzz through my mind.

“Why?” I ask cautiously, not trusting this announcement.

“Because you are wonderful and I don’t tell you often enough”.  Jarrod is playful today, it’s sweet to see, it’s not a side you reveal very often, it makes me smile.  Jarrod and I work in the Newsroom of the local independent television station.  It’s pressurized, fast-paced, gritty and erratic and we are all absolute adrenalin junkies, the thrill of the chase.  News makes for late nights, sudden business trips and a lot of telephone messages - a breeding ground for suspicion and doubt.  But not Jarrod and I, we have always returned home to our waiting families, drawn together by the attraction, released to return home only to be pulled together again sometime in the future.  It gets harder to fight but we keep it all very platonic, helping each other through various kid and family crisis’s after another, denying it to others and ourselves, under the delusion of friendship.

“Bless, and as much as that is completely accurate, and I would love to” and I would just like to spend 10 minutes of discrete time with him, instead of one of our phones paging us back to the Newsroom, “But I’m slammed with paperwork and I am researching Friday nights story” I lie.

Uncharacteristically he stands up abruptly, making a grand gesture, towering over me, leaning over my desk and I, clamping my hands down over the papers on my desk saying … “check your calendar baby because it is happening, this week or next week … pencil me in!  Releasing me equally as quickly, he is gone.

What on earth was that about, I wonder?  My mind reverts to the options.  Mild panic arrests my thoughts for a few moments as I re-surface to a ringing phone.

~0~

Jarrod persisted and persisted, which I found odd but endearing, he even went public with the request so I scheduled a time and he collected me downstairs for lunch.  It was a rare thrill to be getting out of the office during the day and the weather was beautiful!  I was really looking forward to lunch until he collected me on his motorbike.  I hadn’t ridden in years.  I considered refusing when Jarrod said “come on, you tell me all the time how much you love to ride” with that wicked grin and innuendo dripping.

The trill of the moment exhilarated me, as I got on the back of the bike and Jarrod carefully placed my helmet, taking care to make sure I was clipped in securely.  Jarrod was always physically gentle with me.  I was aware of a few questioning faces, wondering what we were doing and why.  I pretended not to notice.  Jarrod read my mind and smiled again saying “let’s keep them guessing” he giggled as he pulled on his helmet.

The last time I was on the back of a bike was before my children were born and I felt 18 again.  Completely immersing myself in the moment, Jarrod started the engine, which roared its vibration below us, it made my skin tingle.  He looked around to check and then roared off down the street, loudly and too fast! I screamed into my helmet and held him tightly and felt his chest chuckling by my reaction.  My fingers were holding onto a t-shirt laced over rock-hard abs, which I wanted to explore in detail.  This man knew what to do to drive me crazy, in every way.  How else was he going to find a perfectly acceptable scenario where I would be forced to trust him completely and hold onto him tightly, even if it was only for 9 torturous minutes.  The speed was thrilling and it made me hold on tighter, a clever plan.  The engine thrummed between our legs and I was becoming more wet by the exhilaration of it all, my body was in complete over-stimulus and I held on tighter.  

We arrived at the restaurant, the choice of which surprised me.  It was a fancy, up-scale, high-end, to be seen at Vegetarian Restaurant, the chef was currently on everyone’s lips with high praise.  I started to tense, and butterflies circled again.  We were politely seated in a corner, a table for two, alone, away from the maddening crowd and the conversation bobbed awkwardly around work issues.  Feeling a change and to make light, I started teasing Jarrod.  I loved to tease him, he was always so much fun to tease but the winds suddenly changed and he became defensive and difficult … our dance was going array, we were stepping on each other’s toes.  Had this become too real?  Was the fantasy fading?  Was the reality difficult and awkward?  Jarrod became more serious and his body-language leaned away from me.  I was grateful when the food arrived and we were forced into silence for the munching.  I offered you something that I wasn’t sure you would eat, you rather determinedly said no, something I had always been able to cajole you into before.  Something had changed, he doesn’t trust me.  I sat upright, uneasy and that initial ominous feeling returned.

We fell silent to eat, I became hyper-aware of the music in the restaurant, that t-shirt stretched over you, the noises from the kitchen, the cool of the air-conditioning, the condensation on the side of my glass filled with ice, the annoying waiter who wouldn’t leave us alone, happy voices laughing outside, we weren’t laughing.  I wanted us to laugh.

“What are you thinking?” he asked me gently.

My brow furrowed, I tried to make light “how much you love vegetables” I teased.

“I do eat vegetables!” you pouted “just not all of them.  And that was not what you were thinking.”  I smiled, you were stubborn and clever.

We finished our lunch, the air had changed.  Your phone rang.  You look up at me.  Our eyes connect, our eyes know … it was over.

I inhale deeply looking off into the distance to give you some privacy.  You got up and walked away.  That hurt.  And while you were off having an animated conversation with your phone … it slowly dawned on me!  This was good-bye.

The public place, insisting we do it, refusing me – you rarely refused me, the change in behaviour and vibe … this was your farewell, our good-bye.  Our dance was over.

I tried to mask my awareness as you returned to the table “I have to run” you said “sorry, really sorry, can you get a taxi back to the office?  I’m really sorry about this.  It can’t be helped.”  You motioned for the bill.

I was trying to breathe calmly as I said “sure” as nonchalantly as I could “I’ll be fine! So fine!”  In that tone that the locals adopt for each other.  “You go sort out your world.”  I smiled at that statement.  

That was what we did.  We connected briefly, scared each other by the opportunity and then one of us would pull away to behind the gold-band line.  It was safe there, torture but safe.  

It was what we did and it worked but it felt different this time.  You paid, you got up apologizing again for running, you kissed me on the cheek lingering for a moment, and you ran from the Vegetarian Restaurant.  

I watched you as you glided down the stairs, grabbing your sunglasses, keys and making sure you had your phone.  

I watched you place all of your items, but you had left one behind … our dance was over … and you never looked back!

You don’t know me … But you want to …

Fiction, Flirtation and Fantasy … Writing by C. Kelly