Page 24 of Safer Alone
For the first time in several years, I am looking forward to seeing a man again. It terrifies me to no end. However, other parts of me are excited, nervous and anxious. It shocks me that I am having all these feelings for someone I hardly know. It inevitably will all end in tragedy, but for now I’m going to enjoy it, for as long as these feelings last inside.
When Wednesday finally arrives, I can’t contain my excitement knowing that he will be flying in tomorrow. When I notice a missed call notification on my phone near closing time my heart almost stops Is he no longer coming? I call him back immediately.
“Angela, thanks for returning my call, I’ve just landed, I’m heading to The Hermitage shortly.” He was here, early! Such great news!
“You came early. That’s wonderful news. I have your keys with me ready for you to collect.”
His response is instantaneous “Yeah, I decided to fly in today so I can spend tomorrow at the property. I’ll come by your place and pick the keys up if you don’t mind. You can contact the attorney to confirm all the money went through this morning if you like. I’ll bring some takeout with me. Any preference? Chinese? Italian? I’ll need your address, too.”
My breath catches, he wants my address. Elliot Sands wants to come to my apartment. It’s not suitable for a millionaire. Think, Angela think. Maybe I can suggest meeting somewhere else, his hotel room maybe? No, that’s not an option. My place it is. “Italian sounds great, have you got a pen handy?”
“Sure do, shoot.”
“Okay, so my address is sixty-seven Main Street, apartment ten. You will need to park out back. Give me a call if you get lost, and I’ll come down and get you.” I couldn’t believe I just invited him to my place. I guess Elliot is coming to my humble apartment. I better get home quickly and tidy up a bit.
“Okay Miss White, I’ll be there around 6:30 pm. I’ll see you soon.” And he must have clicked end, as the phone line went dead.
I put my phone back into my handbag and begin the twenty-five minute commute home. I arrive just after 5:30 pm, fish the house keys out of my old handbag, unlock the front door, and walk in. I flick on the lights and the house is lovely and tidy. I duck into the bedroom and make sure the bed is made, and that no dirty laundry was laying around. I kick out of my shoes and return to the living room and light a candle that is situated on the small coffee table. Within fifteen minutes my home smells like vanilla and coconut. I relax as the minutes tick by. Closer to 6:30 pm I notice I am starting to fidget. I nervously pace back and forth across my living room. I turn the television on and then off again within three minutes.
I walk into the bathroom and tidy myself up and spray my perfume just once, not wanting it to be overpowering. A quick glance at my watch, it is 6:28 pm, I hear three knocks on the door, I walk to the front door, stand there for a moment. Breathe, Angela, breathe. I look through the peephole. It’s him, Elliot Sands. The most handsome man I have ever seen was at my front door. Here goes nothing. One, two, three.
~ Chapter Eleven ~
Iopen my door and there he is, Elliot Sands, standing there right in front of me, looking so handsome that it hurts. I blink twice, this can’t be real, and yet when I open my eyes once again he is still there, wearing dark blue jeans, a yellow Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and those sunglasses from the showing tucked into his collar. His hair is slightly messy as though he had just pulled his hands through it and his eyes are looking right into mine.
It is enough to make my heart skip a couple of beats. Even though it is just shy of two weeks, it has felt like months since I last got to stare at his beautiful features up close and personal and not on a computer screen. Looking at him, so picture perfect, makes me question if I looked okay, since I haven’t changed since coming home from work. Peering down, I can see that I am well dressed, wearing a short-sleeve pale blue blouse and a dark grey pinstripe pencil skirt. Professional. He holds out a large bag containing our dinner in his left hand. I could tell that it was Italian by reading the label on the bag, ‘Vinnie’s Italian,’ one of my all-time beloved eateries. One I frequented while living with Liam, as his apartment is located just around the corner. His right hand is holding a bottle of wine. I don’t know much about wine, except this one looked expensive. I will have to look it up on Google later on to find out, as I have no clue as to what it was worth, but I will soon know if it is good or not.
Remembering I was yet to say anything, it spilled out quickly. “Hi Elliot. Welcome. Please come in.” I waved my hand from the front door into the living room in a welcoming gesture. As he walked past, he stopped and bent slightly to kiss my cheek. The feel of his lips on my skin was like someone fanning a fire. It felt so good.
“Angela, it’s lovely to see you again” I can’t concentrate on anything but not falling over. How could one kiss on the cheek affect me this way? Even in the early days with Dylan I am certain I never had this reaction to his touch. Ugh, Dylan, get out of my head. I don’t need you clouding my judgment right now. Not when I am in the company of a true gentleman.
“Thank you for having me over for dinner.” Elliot’s voice brings me back to earth.
“You’re welcome, though I should be thanking you. By bringing dinner with you, it has saved me having to cook something. Here, let me take those for you.” I reach for the food and wine and he releases both items to me, I take them over to place on the kitchen counter, closest to the dining table. I turn around and stretch to reach two wine glasses from the top shelf in my overhead cupboards and then retrieving the corkscrew from the second drawer, offering both the wine bottle and corkscrew to Elliot. Feigning humor I speak.
“I’ll let you do this. If you consider letting me try, just know that I might just hit you with the cork.” Holding my hands up in front of my chest, palms facing outwards I continue, “I’m just being honest!” Luckily for me he gives a low chuckle in response.
“Thanks for the warning. I’m glad you’re letting me open it then. I don’t really fancy getting hit by a cork tonight.”
I hear the sound of the cork being popped. Elliot is watching me, awaiting my reaction. I plaster a smile on my face. “Good job. We’re both fine, no one got hurt.” I pick up the glasses from the counter and hold them out between us. He carefully pours the smooth magenta liquid into each glass. Once both are generously supplied with wine, he places the bottle back down on the counter, lifting his hand up to pinch the glass from my left hand. When he is holding it comfortably, I break the silence,
“What shall we toast to tonight?” I smile broadly up at him.
He ponders for a moment, taking his chin between his forefinger and thumb, appearing to be deep in thought. “I’ve got it.” He looks back at me and continues, “How about we toast to my new project?” I return his smile and we toast together.
“To new projects.” I have a small sip of the wine. It’s lovely, very flavorful. I will try to look it up online later. I doubt it will be in my usual price range, though. Rich people generally have expensive tastes. Wine is no different; prices range from a few dollars to thousands of dollars a bottle.
“Speaking of your new home, here are your keys” I scoop them up from the kitchen counter where I had deposited them when I got home earlier, offering them to him. He reaches out with his free hand and accepts them.
“Thank you.” I nod in response, I see him tuck them into his jean pocket.
“So how was your day? Did your showing this morning go well?” I was momentarily shocked; how did he know about my showing? I then remembered I told him last night while we were messaging.
“Good memory,” I point at my mind. “I showed the property on behalf of another of the agents at the office. They haven’t been real well. It went okay, though. Got some positive feedback which is always a good thing. Hopefully they call me with an offer in the coming days.” I smiled. “Thanks for asking.” I can’t remember the last time someone bothered to ask me about my day. It would have been years ago, back in the days spent with Dylan.
Here I am trying to enjoy myself with a wonderful man and thoughts of Dylan come front and center. I wish I could just turn it all off tonight. I need to concentrate on the man who is here with me now. A man who is looking at me, smiling. Content to be in my company.
“I’m glad it went well for you. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you sell another one” he crosses his fingers with his free hand and holds them up for me to see. I stifle a giggle.
