Renee got into her car and drove over to Callum’s flat. He had invited her over for dinner. When she told her friends, they were shocked. They couldn’t believe that a bookworm had much of a social life. They concluded that although he was very attractive, no woman would want to date a man who spent most of his time with his nose buried in old and used books. Renee didn’t agree with them. She thought Callum was remarkable and enjoyed spending time with him, listening to him relate the interesting stories he read. He had a penchant for folklore. His love for books was really quite endearing. She especially liked it when he recited poetry in that deep, velvety voice of his. Sometimes the words spilled from his lips like a caress.
She didn’t know exactly when it happened but she had fallen in love with Callum. It wasn’t something she had intended and she wasn’t sure how she would be able to continue seeing him without betraying her feelings. Perhaps, he wouldn’t even notice. Books were his passion and he didn’t seem interested in being in a relationship. She sighed. It was just her luck to fall in love with a booklover.
The first time they met it was at a library. She was reading a book on Greek Mythology when he went over to her. At first he seemed more interested in the book than in her. His eyes were riveted on it for several minutes before they rose to her face where they remained. He smiled at her then and held out his hand. She shook his hand, thinking what an attractive man he was with dark brown hair falling rakishly across his forehead, green eyes behind a pair of glasses. He was dressed in a dark green shirt, black vest and black slacks. He was tall and slender. She invited him to join her.
He sat next to her and they had a very animated conversation about the contents of the book she was reading and other such books. Time flew and it was time to go. They arranged to meet again the following evening at the library. And after meeting there a few nights in a row, they exchanged numbers and they saw each other frequently. They met for coffee, went for lunch, had dinner a few times and for went walks in the park, always talking about books.
Whenever they were out together, she observed other women admiring him but he didn’t seem to notice at all. She wondered what he would do if she were to kiss him on the spur of the moment. The idea had occurred to her but she thought better of it. Tonight, she hoped that they would talk about other things besides books of every genre.
She arrived at his flat. She grabbed the bottle of wine that was on the passenger seat and climbed out of the car. As she walked toward the entrance she drew admiring glances from the group of men who were standing there. How she wished that Callum would look at her like that. Perhaps tonight he will. She was wearing a white dress with broad straps which hugged her figure and the earrings she had picked up from a thrift store.
As she stood outside his door, her heart began to pound. She suddenly felt nervous as if she were going on a date for the first time. Calm yourself, she told herself. Take a deep breath. A few seconds passed as she pulled herself together, then she raised her hand and pressed the doorbell.
The door opened almost immediately and Callum stood there. His eyes traveled over her and she detected admiration and something else in them. “You look amazing,” he commented as he stepped aside for her to enter the foyer. He closed the door and locked it. When he turned to face her, she was tempted to reach up and kiss him but instead, she handed him the bottle of wine. “Oh, thank you,” he said, taking it from her. “Let me give you a quick tour of my place.”
She removed her slingbacks and followed him. They went through the living-room which was very spacious and cozy. He put the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. “Something smells delicious,” she said. It smelled like Indian food which she loved.
He smiled. “We’re having Chicken Tikka Masala.”
“Sounds great.” They passed by the washroom and paused outside of the bedroom door. He switched on the light and she looked around the room. It was immaculate, and decidedly masculine with its colors and wood furniture. From the window, you could see the Tower Bridge. Beside the window, there was an armchair. Mostly he sat there and read before turning into bed. Her gaze went irresistibly to the bed. It was so perfectly made up, it looked like something out of one of those home decor magazines. Unbidden, came the thought, has any woman been in that bed? It aroused jealousy in her.
“No woman has shared my bed,” he said, startling her. Her eyes were wide as they met his. Had he read her mind? “You’re the first woman I have ever invited to my place.” There was a curious expression on his face as he stood there looking at her and then he turned away. “Let’s finish the tour.” He switched off the light and started down the corridor. She followed him, chiding herself for being so transparent.
They paused outside of a doorway and he turned on the light. It was a library, with four book shelves, lined with books and a desk facing the window. “This is my favorite room,” he said. He looked at her. “I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you.”
She frowned, thinking that there would be more books. There were empty spaces on some of the shelves.
As if he read her thoughts, he said, “I donated some of them to the library.”
“You donated them to make room for the new ones you are planning to get,” she deduced, looking at him.
He laughed. “Can’t fool you, can I?” He switched off the light. “Now, it’s time to have our dinner. But, first, I will take you out on the terrace for a bit of fresh air.”
She followed him to the terrace. He drew aside the drapes and opened the sliding doors, stepping out into the cool evening air. The sun was setting and it cast a crimson glow on the Tower Bridge and the Thames. It was a magnificent view. Then, she turned, intending to walk along the length of the terrace when she noticed the table. She gaped. It was covered with a tablecloth, set with fine dinner ware, two glasses and two candles. Callum had gone to a lot of trouble.
Touched, she turned to him. “Callum, I didn’t expect this at all,” she said. “What a lovely surprise.” She hugged him and when she drew back to gaze up at him, she felt his arms go around her waist and then he was kissing her. She responded, her senses swimming and her arms wound themselves around his neck.
Several minutes passed before he raised his head to look down into her face. “This dinner is my way of showing you how I feel about you. You are the first woman I have ever invited to my flat or cooked dinner for. You are the only woman I want in my life. I love you, Renee. I have loved you from that day in the library when I came over to you on the pretext of being interested in the book you were reading. I had noticed you a couple of days before but never worked up the courage to approach you until that afternoon. All those times we spent together, talking about my love for books, I was trying to figure out how to tell you that I loved you. Tonight, I wanted to show you.”
For a moment, she was too moved to say anything. Then, she confessed, “I love you too, Callum. I have loved you since the first time we met. For the longest while I have been trying to figure out how I could continue being around you and not betray my feelings.”
“Tonight, we can enjoy being with each other the way we have always wanted to.” He lowered his head and they kissed. “I’d better go and bring out the dinner,” he muttered, reluctantly letting her go.
“Let me help.”
He shook his head and walked over to the table and pulled out the chair facing the Tower Bridge. “You sit here and enjoy the view,” he suggested. “I’ll be right back.” When she sat down, he bent his head and kissed her on the nape of her neck before he walked away.
Renee sat there, digesting what had just happened. The river Thames shimmered in the setting sun and as she gazed at it, she smiled, thinking how fortunate she was to be sitting here, about to have a candlelight dinner with the man she loved. Yes, this something she had never imagined would happen but that was how life was sometimes–unpredictable.
Source: Cooking Channel TV
Notes to Women 