Page 39 of Prelude To You

“You asked, and I answered yes.”

“And that answer spoke volumes.”

We were at an impasse. I couldn’t even admit to myself that The Dancer had managed to create this longing I now felt, which was foreign to me. So how could I admit it to Steven?

I’d only had two hours of sleep, so my mind wasn’t in any condition to combat these ridiculous thoughts I was having about her. “It was just an everyday normal moment in my otherwise very dull life,” I finally admitted, eager to bring the conversation to a close.

“There’s nothing about you that says everyday normal man, Roman.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

“A word of advice: let’s keep it to the vetted ladies.”

“Fine.”

“So why don’t I set up an evening with one of them.”

“No I’m good. Thanks.”

He continued to stare me down, never blinking. His mission in life was to look after me, and he saw that being derailed by a strange woman in a bookshop. A woman who had unashamedly stolen my full attention.

“I assume we’re not going to have a problem here,” Steven said. He wasn’t asking.

“No, we’re not,” I replied, meaning every word.

Steven swiped the USB drive from my desk. He wasn’t about to coddle my feelings. “Well I guess you won’t be needing this then. Get a few hours’ sleep before you leave here. Let’s have you in charge of your actions, understood?”

He turned and headed for the door without waiting for an answer. I stared at the empty spot where the USB drive had been. And suddenly felt like something precious had been ripped away. If I didn’t have that footage, The Dancer’s existence might become lost in my dreams. It was all I had to prove the whole thing really happened.

“Give it back to me, please,” I said.

Steven didn’t hesitate. He swung around and returned the drive to my desk immediately. “You know pursuing this will lead to misery for everyone involved,” he said firmly. “We don’t need that on our plate. Especially now.”

“You’re overthinking this, Steven. I’m not an idiot. That was the singular most ideal moment of my life. It can only go downhill from there. And as we both know, people never live up to expectations. But I would like to treasure the memory.”

Steven contemplated me for a moment. Clearly he didn’t think this insignificant enough to ignore. And so he tasked himself with keeping me rational. “Please get a few hours’ sleep. It’s not a good idea to go into the city half asleep behind the wheel.”

I nodded. “Yes, I’ll do that right now.”

When Steven left, I looked at the USB drive, wondering how something so small could contain a dream that so completely captured my interest.

I put the drive in my safe. Now was not the time to watch the footage. As with everything else, I liked to test my willpower. I’d keep my eagerness at bay as long as I dared. And to be completely honest, seeing The Dancer again, even if it was only store footage, wasn’t exactly going to weaken my resolve to forget about her. Or that kiss.

Steven’s suggestion that I get some sleep was not the worst idea. I took refuge on the Chesterfield couch, propped a pillow under my head and set the alarm. I wished that when I woke, it would be with no memory of her whatsoever.

I rose three hours later.Instead of suffering from a bout of amnesia, I found myself dealing with a raging hard-on, and still haunted by the same inexplicable feelings that had coursed through me since last night.

My dreams were littered with snapshots of The Dancer, and the need to get her out of my head was growing more urgent by the hour. It was fine to reminisce about our chance encounter and the kiss, but it was not okay to be so intrigued by a woman that I one, didn’t know; and two, would probably find boring if I ever did get to know her.

She quoted Christopher Marlowe. Who was I trying to convince here?

I didn’t believe in love at first sight, nor did I believe in soulmates. There was no meeting of the eyes across a roomand mysteriously finding the woman of your dreams and living happily ever after.

I’d had more than my fair share of encounters with gorgeous women, and that was not how real life worked. The thought that one person appeared out of the blue and magically made you re-evaluate your life, was a bizarre concept. Delusional. As was dreaming about someone whose name I didn’t even know.

It was best to settle in with the idea that the incident was simply a wonderful coincidence, and be grateful for the few minutes we shared. It was passionate, of course, but one shouldn’t confuse sexual attraction with love. That was a schoolboy mistake.

And what was love anyway?I’d decided long ago that romance was for dreamers, people who preferred to live with illusions rather than reality. It was common for desire to dissipate over time, and it was human nature to simply move on to the next passion and start anew.

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