Winning Appeal
Page 9
“Hello Paul,” she replied, glancing around and looking uncomfortable.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said to Mark.
“Mark Patterson,” Mark said, extending a hand for Paul to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mark,” he said in a friendly tone, and then turned to me again. “I came over to tell you that I’m the owner of several of the photographs in the exhibit, and I could arrange for you to have a private showing before everyone else.”
“That would be wonderful,” I said glancing at Mark. I was thankful for the excuse to get out of there. “Nice seeing you, Caitlin,” I said, automatically handing her my business card. Then I followed Paul, who was already headed for a hallway off to our left. Mark walked beside me resting his hand on the small of my back. I was hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin through the fabric of my dress.
Paul was leading us toward one of the smaller exhibit rooms. He had a word with a guard at the entrance, and then signaled us to follow him into the exhibit space. There were several glass cases with movie memorabilia, and framed photos, lit with spotlights, adorning the walls.
“I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy,” Paul said, and with a wink, as he left.
“I think that was a rescue mission,” I noted dryly.
“Beth, about Caitlin…”
“Mark, you’re both single and over eighteen. I promise that I’m not judging your lifestyle choices.”
“I just meant it was uncomfortable. I can’t believe she said that.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry about that. I know that Caitlin is just clueless, not malicious. And it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“About that other thing, though… I realize I must seem like a womanizer, but it’s not that I have a problem with commitment.”
“It’s okay, Mark…”
“It’s just that I hadn’t met anyone who I wanted to commit to in the past.”
“Really, it’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I just wanted you to know. It’s not because I have any emotional baggage and it’s not because I don’t respect women. I mean, I could commit.”
“Mark, as Braden so helpfully pointed out, I’m not exactly an expert on commitment. I’ve dated plenty of guys. I mean, not plenty plenty! I’m not like, prolific, or anything.” We stared at each other, and after a beat, we both laughed.
“So, while this conversation is incredibly awkward, this event isn’t too bad,” he said casually. “Well, I mean the parts after the car. Actually, I wouldn’t mind going with you to one of these things again.”
“Really? You wouldn’t? Well, next Saturday night, I’m going to a Great Gatsby party for a foundation at the home of that guy you just met,” I said, hesitantly.
“Great Gatsby? Would I have to wear a costume?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He sighed. “I’ve done it before.”
“Actually, he’s also the person hosting the mystery weekend. It benefits the public library. He’s very involved with local causes.”
“Can we make Adam dress up for that one?” he asked with a smile.
Things got much better after that, although admittedly, it wasn’t a really high bar. Dinner was quite good, though, and the entertainment was even better. A modern film star gave a great tribute to movie stars of a bygone era, and then later, a Big Band orchestra began to play. Nothing, however, compared to the dancing.
It’s true that when he initially took me into his arms, I winced. But he figured out a way to hold me that avoided the ribs that were bruised. And I, in turn, made sure that I avoided the swollen eye. Mark was a really good dancer, and he led me expertly. I loved the feeling of being pressed up against him and having those strong arms wrapped around me. Not to mention the fact that he smelled wonderful again. Who would have thought that this night could have gone from Hell to Heaven?
“There’s a lot to be said for lined up parts,” he whispered in my ear, as he held me close and spun me around the floor to Benny Goodman’s String of Pearls.
“We fit together well,” I answered and he breathed in deeply and pulled me against him even more tightly. As corny as it may sound, I felt like I was floating on air, and it crossed my mind that I could definitely get used to this.
I was tempted several times to try to lure Mark off somewhere alone with me. After all, I knew this museum well, and I had to admit that the thought of a quick, secretive tryst excited me. I knew that in reality, though, I would probably knock him down a flight of stairs or something. I didn’t want to literally become a femme fatale.
Later, when he took me home, he walked me up to my apartment and I invited him in, not really knowing if anything would happen. Something did happen, something that didn’t involve pain. It didn’t involve sex either, but it was still good. He stayed for coffee and we talked for hours.
We discussed our families and discovered we had some things in common. He and I shared a passion for helping the underdog largely because of our moms. His mom was a social worker and my mom had always brought me with her to do volunteer work.
We talked about our college experiences and he told me some funny stories from law school about my brother. From there, we wound up talking about all kinds of things, books, music, movies, even art, and I discovered that being with him came easily when we were relaxed. It was the first, real, in-depth, grown up conversation that we had ever had. Time flew by and before we knew it, it was 2 AM.
“Wow, it’s late,” he said looking at his watch.
“Yeah,” I said regretfully. It really had turned out to be a great evening, even with the injuries, and even without a fun sexy tryst.
Standing up, he walked over to the door. When I came over to let him out, he turned, looking deeply into my eyes. “I have one more question for you. Was this a date?” My pulse shot through the roof and I got goose bumps on my arms.
“Did you want it to be one?” I asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. Does that mean I can kiss you goodnight?”
I nodded, not really trusting my voice not to come out like a squeak. As he stepped closer to me, the butterflies in my tummy took off and my heart started pounding like a sledgehammer in my chest. He smiled that flirty smile, and put his hands on my hips, pulling me up against him gently. He paused for just a beat, to gauge my reaction I think, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck, he seemed to relax.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said to Mark.
“Mark Patterson,” Mark said, extending a hand for Paul to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mark,” he said in a friendly tone, and then turned to me again. “I came over to tell you that I’m the owner of several of the photographs in the exhibit, and I could arrange for you to have a private showing before everyone else.”
“That would be wonderful,” I said glancing at Mark. I was thankful for the excuse to get out of there. “Nice seeing you, Caitlin,” I said, automatically handing her my business card. Then I followed Paul, who was already headed for a hallway off to our left. Mark walked beside me resting his hand on the small of my back. I was hyper-aware of the warmth of his skin through the fabric of my dress.
Paul was leading us toward one of the smaller exhibit rooms. He had a word with a guard at the entrance, and then signaled us to follow him into the exhibit space. There were several glass cases with movie memorabilia, and framed photos, lit with spotlights, adorning the walls.
“I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy,” Paul said, and with a wink, as he left.
“I think that was a rescue mission,” I noted dryly.
“Beth, about Caitlin…”
“Mark, you’re both single and over eighteen. I promise that I’m not judging your lifestyle choices.”
“I just meant it was uncomfortable. I can’t believe she said that.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry about that. I know that Caitlin is just clueless, not malicious. And it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“About that other thing, though… I realize I must seem like a womanizer, but it’s not that I have a problem with commitment.”
“It’s okay, Mark…”
“It’s just that I hadn’t met anyone who I wanted to commit to in the past.”
“Really, it’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I just wanted you to know. It’s not because I have any emotional baggage and it’s not because I don’t respect women. I mean, I could commit.”
“Mark, as Braden so helpfully pointed out, I’m not exactly an expert on commitment. I’ve dated plenty of guys. I mean, not plenty plenty! I’m not like, prolific, or anything.” We stared at each other, and after a beat, we both laughed.
“So, while this conversation is incredibly awkward, this event isn’t too bad,” he said casually. “Well, I mean the parts after the car. Actually, I wouldn’t mind going with you to one of these things again.”
“Really? You wouldn’t? Well, next Saturday night, I’m going to a Great Gatsby party for a foundation at the home of that guy you just met,” I said, hesitantly.
“Great Gatsby? Would I have to wear a costume?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He sighed. “I’ve done it before.”
“Actually, he’s also the person hosting the mystery weekend. It benefits the public library. He’s very involved with local causes.”
“Can we make Adam dress up for that one?” he asked with a smile.
Things got much better after that, although admittedly, it wasn’t a really high bar. Dinner was quite good, though, and the entertainment was even better. A modern film star gave a great tribute to movie stars of a bygone era, and then later, a Big Band orchestra began to play. Nothing, however, compared to the dancing.
It’s true that when he initially took me into his arms, I winced. But he figured out a way to hold me that avoided the ribs that were bruised. And I, in turn, made sure that I avoided the swollen eye. Mark was a really good dancer, and he led me expertly. I loved the feeling of being pressed up against him and having those strong arms wrapped around me. Not to mention the fact that he smelled wonderful again. Who would have thought that this night could have gone from Hell to Heaven?
“There’s a lot to be said for lined up parts,” he whispered in my ear, as he held me close and spun me around the floor to Benny Goodman’s String of Pearls.
“We fit together well,” I answered and he breathed in deeply and pulled me against him even more tightly. As corny as it may sound, I felt like I was floating on air, and it crossed my mind that I could definitely get used to this.
I was tempted several times to try to lure Mark off somewhere alone with me. After all, I knew this museum well, and I had to admit that the thought of a quick, secretive tryst excited me. I knew that in reality, though, I would probably knock him down a flight of stairs or something. I didn’t want to literally become a femme fatale.
Later, when he took me home, he walked me up to my apartment and I invited him in, not really knowing if anything would happen. Something did happen, something that didn’t involve pain. It didn’t involve sex either, but it was still good. He stayed for coffee and we talked for hours.
We discussed our families and discovered we had some things in common. He and I shared a passion for helping the underdog largely because of our moms. His mom was a social worker and my mom had always brought me with her to do volunteer work.
We talked about our college experiences and he told me some funny stories from law school about my brother. From there, we wound up talking about all kinds of things, books, music, movies, even art, and I discovered that being with him came easily when we were relaxed. It was the first, real, in-depth, grown up conversation that we had ever had. Time flew by and before we knew it, it was 2 AM.
“Wow, it’s late,” he said looking at his watch.
“Yeah,” I said regretfully. It really had turned out to be a great evening, even with the injuries, and even without a fun sexy tryst.
Standing up, he walked over to the door. When I came over to let him out, he turned, looking deeply into my eyes. “I have one more question for you. Was this a date?” My pulse shot through the roof and I got goose bumps on my arms.
“Did you want it to be one?” I asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. Does that mean I can kiss you goodnight?”
I nodded, not really trusting my voice not to come out like a squeak. As he stepped closer to me, the butterflies in my tummy took off and my heart started pounding like a sledgehammer in my chest. He smiled that flirty smile, and put his hands on my hips, pulling me up against him gently. He paused for just a beat, to gauge my reaction I think, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck, he seemed to relax.
