Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) (6 page)

L
unch meetings at Ed Scott’s were a luxury of the job, but once I saw
her,
I couldn’t focus. I was sure that what Peter was talking about was important, but I hadn’t heard half of what he said. And now, even after she left, I was still thinking about her.

I loved her short pixie cut showing off her delicate cheekbones and her beguiling eyes. And her skin was flawless. The way she kept running her fingers over her neck. God, how I wanted that to be my hand on her neck. I wondered what she smelled like… what she tasted like.

My cock was still twitching in my slacks as I thought about the way she chewed her lunch. Her full lips, her tongue darting out to catch a drop of dressing. I could just imagine how her plump lips and lithe tongue would look around what I wanted to feed her.

The smile she flashed at her server could light a room.

I see beautiful women all day. Part of the job. Nice work if you can get it. But there was something about her. Slightly awkward, yet elegant in the same breath. She didn’t just catch my eye, or make breathing a bit more labored, there was something oddly familiar about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it. And I was drawn to her like a bee to a rose. And I was hungry for her nectar.

I’ve not had her in the biblical sense. I was certain of that. Was she in the industry? If she worked in front of the camera, surely I’d recognize her. But perhaps behind? Not her attitude. No. Where did I know her from? It was going to drive me nuts!

I would love to get her in front of a camera. But not for the world to see, for my eyes only.

Looks like I would be a little more than a regular at Ed Scott’s. I just hoped I’d see her again.

“I
’d like to speak to someone about renting an apartment.”

“Sure thing, hon.” She leaned back in her chair to glance down a hallway, then picked up the phone and pressed a couple buttons.

“Sarah, a new client is in here in reception… A rental… I didn’t ask. That’s your job, darling… Yeah, good enough.” She hung up the phone and got up from her seat to come around her desk.

“I’m going to set you over here in a conference room. Sarah will be right with you. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

“I just had lunch, but thank you very much,” I replied. I followed the receptionist to a small room with a table and a phone.

I only waited two minutes before a young, petite woman, perhaps in her early twenties, came whirling through the door, laptop in hand. Her hair was pulled up in a hairstyle that I didn’t recognize. Must have been a heck of a day already for her. I stood to meet her.

“Hi. My name is Sarah Devereux. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Please sit… sit. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Your receptionist already offered, but I’m fine. Thank you.”

Sarah plopped down in the chair opposite mine and let out a sigh. “Been one of those days already! Spring season can do that to the real estate market. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” I smiled. I liked her. She reminded me of Jessica, always in a hurry and finding the glass half full. “It’s Elizabeth Fairchild.”

“So, Elizabeth, what are we looking for?” she asked, opening a file folder and filling in my name at the top of some sort of worksheet.

“Well, I was hoping you could help me find an apartment to rent.”

“Sure, I can do that. Is your husband joining us? Should we wait?” she asked, eyeing the door.

“My husband?”
How rude!
I thought. Why would she ask that? Did she ask all the women about their husbands?

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She gestured toward my left hand and the symbols that sat there. The rings that were meant to signify forever. “I saw your rings, and assumed… I’m…” she stammered, getting all red in the face.

“Oh, geez. No, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect the question. I’m here on my own,” I answered, putting on my best game face.

Sarah seemed a little taken aback, but then stuck a big smile on her face and redirected her attention to the worksheet in front of her. “Okay, then. How long of a rental term are you looking for?” she asked.

Okay?
Was it really okay that I left? What have I done?

“A year? Longer, shorter?” she asked, bringing me back to the table.

“Well, at least a month. But maybe two? Longer? Is that possible?”

“Of course. There are terms of all sorts out there. We’ll just have to see what the listings say. What else will you be needing in your apartment?”

About an hour later, after discussing the size of apartment I’d need, my budget and where I’d like to look, I was on my way back to the hotel. Sarah was going to schedule some appointments for us to go and see a few apartments the next day.

Returning to my hotel room, I was feeling quite accomplished. I was sure that it was going to take me a few days to find a job, yet here I was with a job, and going apartment hunting tomorrow. And I had only gotten lost twice today. Maybe I was more self-sufficient than I had been giving myself credit for.

I decided to take advantage of the fitness center in the hotel. since I wasn’t sure when I’d find time to exercise in the next few weeks. I shucked my outfit, put on shorts and a T-shirt, then headed downstairs. It was fun to not have to pull my hair into a ponytail to workout.

After a good three-mile run on the treadmill and some general nautilus weights, I was good and sweaty, feeling re-energized. I stopped at the snack store in the lobby, grabbing a yogurt, banana, and water, then headed back to my room to take a shower.

Squeaky clean, and dressed for bed, eating my ‘gourmet dinner,’ I put my big girl panties on. Toying with my new short locks, I grabbed my phone to listen to a few of the more than two dozen calls from Greg, my mother and Jessica that had come in throughout the day.

Greg’s calls were all over the map. Odd:
“Who do you call for Chinese takeout?”
Desperate:
“Bets, I get it, you need a little break. Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back home.”
But that call was immediately followed by an irate:
“Is there another man? Is that what this is about? Are you fucking another guy and you ran off together for some sick, romantic tryst? God help me if you’re sleeping with another man!”

I deleted the voicemails without listening to anymore.
Yeah. I’m gonna call you when you’re unstable and accusing me of adultery. Another man?!?! Who did he take me for?
At the mere mention of another many, my mind wandered to the gorgeous man sitting at the bar. However, I did not run off to be with another man!

I pushed those thoughts aside and sat to fill out all of the employment papers. Temporary address, permanent address, deductions and withholding calculations… All the blanks were making me nervous and my head spin. I was regretting even more my lack of real world work experience.

Wouldn’t it be nice to call Greg and have him help me fill these out, like he helped the kids with theirs?
I had to mentally slap myself for that one! I was here to learn to stand on my own, not lean on someone else. I buckled down and filled in the blanks as best I could. When I felt they were good to go, I pulled out the restaurant’s menu and started to study.

I woke on Wednesday morning, without an alarm, at eight o’clock, to find myself slumped over the menu and all the lights still on. I must have been more tired than I thought. I didn’t even remember closing my eyes.

I got up and dressed. The most exhilarating part of my morning was deciding how to style my hair. I opted for the soft blown look, and I was amazed that it had been as easy as Bobbie had said it would be.

After a light breakfast in the coffee shop near the hotel, which was much cheaper than the hotel’s restaurant, I met up with Sarah in the hotel lobby at ten o’clock. With any luck, I’d find an apartment.

By four-thirty, we’d been to seven different apartments. All were fully furnished, as I’d requested. Some way over budget, some on streets that left me nervous in broad daylight. One was a bit too far from work and had me concerned that I’d be late and give the dreaded “L Train excuse,” whatever that was.

Ultimately, I settled on a cute one bedroom apartment. It was tastefully decorated in neutrals and it was quiet. The unit was actually the most expensive one we saw, and the smallest, but it was the cleanest and safest. There was a rooftop patio, but it was closed today because it was being painted for the season, so we didn’t get to see it.

The kitchen was little more than an “efficiency,” barely big enough to make breakfast in, but it was updated, as was the bathroom, with this amazing waterfall shower head that I’d been trying to get Greg to install in our bathroom at home. The bed was very comfortable and new, still wrapped with packaging from the store. When we had stopped and talked to the doorman, Dominic, on our way in, he was as nice as could be. As we chatted, I noticed several residents come and go through the lobby, and they seemed quite pleasant. The whole building had a very quaint mood.

Back at Sarah’s office, she put in a call to the agent who was responsible for listing the apartment. Some quick talking on Sarah’s part, and it was a done deal. The best part was that I’d get to move in on Friday, which would save a bundle on my inheritance savings. After finalizing all the paperwork for the rental, with credit and background checks, it was a quarter after five.

“Thanks for all your help, Sarah. You’ve been a doll! I’ll see you on Friday for the keys, then?”

“We’ll meet at the building, eight in the morning,” she assured me with a bright smile.

I grabbed a slice of thin crust pizza and a soda on my walk to the hotel, battling for space every inch of the way. Rush hour was no picnic, that’s for sure.

On my walk back to the hotel, I passed an H&M Department Store. I stopped to pick up a few black slacks and shirts so I wouldn’t have to do laundry every other day. Then I stopped at a shoe store and bought a good pair for work.

Back at the Hyatt, I tried to make it an early night, but I was bothered by all of Greg’s voicemails and texts. I know, I should be. I had left. Without warning. Without much explanation. I didn’t even have the courage to talk to him about how I was feeling face-to-face. Or with a therapist.

I had so much I wanted to talk about, but really no one to talk to. Jess wouldn’t be around. It was Wednesday night. Book Club night. It was Michelle’s week to host. Undoubtedly, they would all drinking up a storm and talking about anything but the book. Would Jessica tell them where I was? She tended to get loose lips after a martini or two. Would the girls understand? Did I understand? No, I didn’t. It was the most impulsive thing I’d ever done. But, in my heart of hearts, I
knew
I was doing the right thing. I think.

I
tried not to stare. In Texas it was almost expected, but I’d never subscribed to that principle.
Abuela
wouldn’t have stood for it. But there I was gawking. I know I did, and I hope she didn’t see me. Sometimes, however, there are things that are so beautiful that demand attention and she was one of them. Her neck, her smile, her eyes… I wondered who she was here to visit.

I admit, I was a little ashamed that I’d been so smitten right from first sight. I’d always prided myself on being drawn to people for who they were, not what they looked like. But she radiated beauty from within, not just on the outside. I loved observing how she carried herself — confident, but not boastful. She was shy, yet strong. I admired how she was cautious, however there was a clear sense of adventure in the way she stood.

I stopped near Dominic’s stand to re-tie my shoe. I know, a juvenile move, one my middle school students might use, but hey, it seemed effective at the moment. Carefully eavesdropping, I overheard her asking questions that that sounded like she would be moving in.

Oh I hope she’s looking at the apartment on the sixth floor
, I thought as I stood and headed for the elevator. Safely inside the car, I was relieved at the opportunity to adjust my jeans. I wanted to look back, but I didn’t want to look like some sort of creeper. But heck, she was beautiful. Her sassy hair, her fair skin. Elegantly tall. Dominic would never tell, but I’d have to see if I could pull
some
information from him.