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She was the kind of girl that made men think, made them imagine and fantasize. Long dark hair and empty eyes, boyfriends would vanish and be found in a dark corner of the patio, offering their jacket and lighting her cigarette. She was the one who eyes followed everywhere she went, and without meaning to or caring, the cause of fights between couples. To her it was being friendly, girls would say that it was curves and tight skin that caused their boys thoughts to sway, really it was confidence and charm, little things like the flick of a hand and a thrown back, open mouthed laugh, intelligence and attention to detail.
They never thought of her, selfish little ones who assumed it was her goal in life to pillage and break when it was the last thing on her mind. All she wanted was to find her goal, someone who would keep up and finally charm her, finally be enough to fill that empty place on her thoughts, but the price was always too high. No one had enough.
You and I will never exactly be the perfect fit, we are both far too reserved, or you’re reserved I just have trouble feeling in general. We work because neither of us have problems with that. We are so wrapped up in what is going on that we don’t need to cling, don’t need to worry. We both understand that when it ends there will still be a future. That is why we stay so independent, it is a preparation.
Maybe we have more in common than I thought. .
Part 4: Not quite as expected
“have you looked at the menu?”
She had not, Kansas was different, she spent most of the day driving in her rented car through the flat streets lined with newly budding trees. Everyone she met complained of the heat wave, but the weather was very similar to what she would be feeling during summer in California, except for the humidity, that was different, almost like the jungles of Hawaii but much heavier. People were nice though, it was much quieter than even San Diego.
Throughout the hours of her plane ride the day before she had often pulled up the photo that Jessica sent to her. Of the hazel eyed man with blonde hair and grey sideburns, she could tell he was of southern origin with that strong chin and defined lips. She had asked for his email, but Jessica said it was usually best to have the first conversation in person, that meeting like most would, in a restaurant or cafe, would work best. Sal had to stop herself from replying that she had never heard of two people meeting after thousands of dollars were spent on interviewing girls all over the nation, but felt it would be stating the obvious. Jessica really was a nice lady, despite her strange career.
Now that he was standing there and looking at her, she saw that his eyes were more greenish than hazel and that his hair was more grey than blonde, but she didn’t think she cared. He was cleanly shaven, though Sal could see a bit of a shadow on his cheek bones. He was a normal height, not extremely tall or short, with very broad shoulders and nice strong hands. His cologne smelt like a mix of old spice and whiskey which was relaxing to her. She could also detect the smell of an unopened cigar, though she knew he asked for someone who did not smoke.
He wore a simple black suit with a dark maroon tie and beige undershirt, his cuff links were small emeralds. She had been nervous, mostly because she felt he knew so much more about her than she did of him, but with him standing in front of her she could tell that he wasn’t sure what to do himself. She smiled suddenly, wanting to make him feel better as much as herself.
To her delight he smiled back, the movement showed the deep lines around his mouth and the shallow ones at the corners of his eyes, but she found it was quite a handsome smile, for a man who made millions it was nice to know he could smile.
“Lets get a drink?” He asked slightly opening the curtain to wave over their server.
“Yes please!” she laughed.
Over an hour later they had eaten, she had noticed his pleasure in her ordering the rib eye, and of her drinking bourbon sours, he himself drank straight whiskey like she had guessed. The longer they talked the more she noticed his soft accent. He had three children, the oldest being 23, the youngest 18, all were out of the house, in various states. He admitted he wasn’t really close to any of them. She liked that, she hoped he didn’t look at her and see his daughter.
After four bourbons and finally asked. “So why me?”
“What do you mean?” He had slightly loosened his tie, but still was firmly on the other side of the table.
“Jessica seems like she is good at what she does, I’m sure you had the pick of the litter, I am good looking, but not breathtaking, why me? I’m a failed model, and for those all I have to do is listen to the photographer and try to bring emotion to the picture, I’m not exactly impressive, just lucky and maybe a little fun to be around.”
“Why do you say you are a failure?”
“Because, I’m almost 25 and still have no steady career, I tried to model, I’ve tried to do other things but they are just boring, I can’t bare to be unhappy, or bored.”
He leaned forward, suddenly not acting very tipsy. “Perhaps you should just think of it another way Salina, maybe you weren’t successful because somehow you knew that this moment would come. You knew that I would find you, and then maybe, your life would start.”
That was the first time he made her blush. It was more forward than he acted the entire night. They finished shortly after that, and he walked her back to her car. She could tell that he wasn’t sure what to do, finally she slid her arms under his and gave him a hug, taking one last breath of his scent. “I would like to see you again.” she said and let him go, but before she stepped back he gently took hold of her coat and looked at her.
“I want nothing more than that. You have my number.” It looked as though he wanted to do something else, touch her hair? Kiss her? Say something else? No one had ever really looked at her like that before, as if he already knew what she decided. He let her go though, and she got into her car and turned it on, realizing he wouldn't walk away until she was down the street she pulled out and left, back to her hotel.
The more I grasp at it the faster it slips away, the passion. I must have taken it for granted, just as the wilderness takes advantage of spring, only to be more and more barren each winter. I’ve gotten so used to the feeling of emptiness that I am generally content, but every so often it will sneak up on me, startle me and cause me to realize that it is missing.
And then, I will pour out the contents of my drawers and cabnets, frantically searching for that which I have lost. Through old notebooks I will flip reading the words of someone whose memories I share, but with feelings that I can not understand.
Then I will give up, and continue living, because what else is there to do? I know it takes me unawares engulfing me again. That I feel it without knowing before I can identify and appreciate. I am no longer at one with what once came so easily to me. All I know is the shadow of what I once was.
He didn’t seem like the other boys in her school. She noticed cool, intelligent eyes that followed her as she made conversation with others in class, that he always seemed to be watching. He made her laugh with more than just goofiness but with well thought out comments. Before she knew it they were friends, some of the girls she knew said he was kind of a loser, that he was condescending That didn’t bother her, she found that brave, she would be too, if she didn’t like having people look up to her. She didn’t care what they said, she couldn’t find anyone else but him who could keep up.
She knew he wanted her though, she could tell. But she wasn't interested in that, better to be friends. Sure she teased him, letting him put his arm around her if it was cold, she would sleep over in the same bed but would be sure not to allow him the opportunity to kiss her.
It was more than his intelligence, it was his seeming innocence and concrete morals. He didn’t drink, refused to smoke weed or be around it. He was a virgin she didn’t even know if he had been kissed. He wanted it, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. And while corrupting him was so tempting, she knew if she did anything with him it would be huge in his life, she didn’t want that responsibility So she stayed logical, and got a different, less engaging partner. She enjoyed it, but eventually realized that despite her logic she found herself falling in love with her intelligent friend.
She thought it was love at least.
Part 3, First Impression
He was nervous, he flew to Kansas City to meet her, even though his office was in Wichita. It was for safety, they were meeting at a restaurant of her choice, there was less of a chance of anyone recognizing him and wondering why he was eating dinner with an attractive dark haired girl. He needed to stop thinking of her as a girl though, and if they did hit it off, she would go home with him eventually, the guest house, just an acre from the home where his children were raised, was already being prepared. He also guessed that she would feel more comfortable meeting in a city, she had never been to the center of the country before, he was a little worried about her getting homesick too. Though he kept repeating to himself it probably wouldn’t work out anyway. Better to not get his hopes up. Though under all of that nervousness he was excited. Those dark eyes and quick smile had been haunting his thoughts for the past three weeks.
He wasn’t early, but still hoped that he had arrived first, but naming the reservation (under her name) he was informed that she was waiting. Samuel followed the host around a corner, this was a good choice, there wasn’t many people there, and each booth was covered with a sheer grey curtain, he imagined it was quite romantic for most couples, and while it was good that no one would see his face, it would just be her and him in there, no escape or distraction.
Her dark figure was the only reason he knew it was her, he could see the waves of her hair, and that she wore a royal blue dress, he saw her black wool coat hanging on a peg outside the booth, it looked very small and thin. If she chose to stay they would need to get her appropriate clothes for the cold weather. “Miss Crowe, Mr Widom has arrived.”
“Thank you.” she replied. Her voice sounded less husky than in the video, but also had more melody in it, like a blues singer.
She stood up, more like a man in a business meeting than a polite shy woman, and shook his hand. She had very small palms with long slender fingers and long natural nails that were void of any paint. Her dress was fitted around her breasts and hips, but went into loose see through martial, showing her tan legs. She would have froze if there wasn’t a heat wave going on. Silver jewelry covered her neck and wrists, she wore two rings, one with amber bubbles, the other turquoise in the shape of an indian headdress. She was about 5'8 in heels, making them about the same height, she was probably 5'5 without them.
What struck him wasn’t her slender body or toned arms, nor the inviting rise and fall of her chest pushing her breasts against the bright silk of her dress, but her dark eyes. They were so large and almost lacking emotion, but he could see she took in everything around her, she digested him so quickly, he felt more judged by those eyes than in all of the meetings he had been in throughout his entire life.
“Nice to meet you. She said and sat back down.
"Have you looked at the menu at all?” He asked, not really knowing what else to say.
There was a time when I envisioned
Mysteries to line each distant shore;When I fought to fathom each adventure
Life’s unfurling might yet hold in store.Oh, little-death, to see, to know now
This is it. There will be nothing more.
They may tell me that I’ve lost my spark, that because I sit at a cluttered desk and play with numbers instead of jumping off cliffs and meeting dark strangers. That I gave up on my dreams for stability and solid ground, when I always said I would fly.
They just dont understand, that even though it doesn’t look like it I may be taking the biggest leap I’ve been presented with, all for just one hope.
And if I can’t catch that branch on the other side, I may just continue to tumble.
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