The Secret Relationship

Douglas was in the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher while she was in the living-room, admiring the décor and the beautiful patina of the antique table beside the fireplace and below a painting of a person walking along a tree-lined path in the rain.  She paused to admire it.

The myriad of bright oranges, reds and yellows suggested that it was in the fall.  The path and the bench were soaked from the pouring rain.   Yet, the walker looked dry underneath the umbrella and in no hurry to get out of the rain.  She wondered if she should come out of the rain before she got wet.  Douglas and she had been seeing each other for months now.  This was the first time they were at his place.  So far they had been going out but avoided places where they might run into people they knew.  They couldn’t afford to allow anyone to find out about them or Douglas could lose his job.  He was her Economics professor.

The moment she walked into his class and saw him, she knew she was in trouble.  She tried not to stare but it wasn’t easy.  She would shoot him furtive glances every opportunity she got and when the class was over, she would linger, spending a little long packing up her bag. Thankfully, his was the last class for the day so she didn’t have to rush off to the next one.

One afternoon when she was packing up her bag, he went over to her desk.  She glanced up and their eyes met.  He had the most incredible green eyes and his face–she realized that she was staring and quickly looked away.

“I’m going to grab a cappuccino,” he said quietly.  “Would you like to join me?”

She looked at him, her heart racing.  He was asking her out.  Get a hold of yourself, girl.  It’s just a cappuccino.  “Yes, I’d like to,” she answered.

He smiled.  “Good.  I’ll meet you at the front entrance.”

She zipped up her bag and left the classroom.  She waited on the steps, watching the sun set.  Five minutes later he drove up and stopped at the side of the curb.  She ran down the steps and got into his car.  They drove off.  On the way over to the coffee shop, he asked her what her major was.  “Sociology,” she said.  “I want to make a difference when it comes to the social problems that we face in our society and around the world such as poverty, race relations, gender inequality, globalization and environmental change.”

“When I tell people that I teach Economics, they look at me as if I were crazy.  Most people remember it as a very boring subject but when I explain to them that the course I teach is Urban Economics they become interested.”

They continued talking about university and courses until they arrived at an Italian cafe in Greenwich Village.  Over a Hazelnut Cappuccino and a Hot Chocolate, they talked about other things.

“Do you ice-skate?” he asked an hour and a half later when he was taking her home.

She nodded.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?”

She shook her head.

“We can go skating at Bryant Park and then have dinner at the restaurant there.”

They went to Bryant Park and she had a wonderful time.  It had been a while since she last skated and after a few shaky steps and falls, she was fine.  Afterwards they had dinner in the restaurant where it was nice and warm.  He asked to take her out the following evening and they began seeing each other regularly after that.

The sound of his footsteps behind her brought her back to the present.  She joined him on the sofa.  They were going to watch an old movie classic but she couldn’t concentrate.  She was intensely aware of him and the fact that they were sitting very closely together so that his knee was touching hers.  At one point she could sense that he was looking at her.  As the movie progressed, she was on tenterhooks, wondering if at any point, he was going to make a move and longing for him to.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she turned to look at him when she knew that he was watching her.  Their eyes met and held.  Deliberately, she lowered her gaze to his mouth and parted her lips.  Without saying a word, he reached for her and pulled her across his lap.  His head swooped down and he was kissing her.  Her arms went around his neck and held him tightly as they exchanged passionate kisses.

After a while, he raised his head and gazed down into her face, his own flushed.  “I’ve been a professor for ten years now and not once have I ever been attracted to any of my students.  Then, you walked into my classroom.  I didn’t want to be attracted to you but I couldn’t fight it.  I approached you at the risk of losing my job.”

She reached up and touched his face.  “I was never attracted to any of my teachers but the moment I saw you, I was in trouble.  Common sense told me to transfer to another class but I listened to my heart instead.”

“Robyn, I want us to continue seeing each other but under the quiet until you graduate.”

She nodded.  “Okay.”

“By the way, who was that guy I saw you talking to in the hallway on Thursday before you came to class?”

She tried to remember who he was talking about for a moment.  “Oh, that was Eric.”

“What did he want?” he asked tightly.

“He wanted to know if I was free Saturday night.”

His eyes darkened in jealousy.  “And what did you tell him?”

“I told him that I wasn’t.  I also told him that I was seeing someone.”

“I hate the idea of other guys asking you out.”

She reached up and kissed him.  “You don’t have to worry about any of them,” she murmured against his lips.  “They don’t stand a chance.”

Groaning, he kissed her back and then, putting his hands under her knees, he stood up and carried her to his room.

They managed to keep their relationship a secret and on the day of her graduation in June, he asked her to marry him.

Sources:  Thought.co; Huffington Post; University of Kent; NYU; Cafe Reggio

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The Candlelight Dinner

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

The Dinner Invitation

He resisted the urge to bury his face in her hair and…  Sharon stopped typing and stared at the laptop screen.  She was tired and the thoughts were not coming as they should. Her mind was not on the story she was writing.  She was thinking about Jason.  

This afternoon when she walked into the reception and Lauren greeted her with, “Good afternoon, Susan.  Please let Jason know that I’m here,” she had to grit her teeth to stifle the angry retort that rose to her lips.  Plastering a smile on her face, she said for the umpteenth time, “It’s Sharon.  And, I will let Mr. Armani know that you are here.”  She got up from her desk, grabbed the folder with papers she needed him to sign and walked away.

She fumed as she headed to her boss’s office.  How she detested Lauren Forbes.  She was a beautiful, statuesque and glamorous woman with thick, bouncy strawberry blonde hair.  Sharon felt plain and ordinary compared to her.  She saw the admiring glances that her male co-workers cast at Lauren who seemed oblivious–perhaps because she was so used to the attention.

Jason was sitting at his desk, typing something when she knocked on the door.  “Come in,” he called without looking up.

Sharon went in and closed the door behind her.  “Lauren Forbes is here,” she announced dryly.

He looked up then.  “What’s the matter?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.

“Nothing,” she said, busying herself with the papers in the folder.

“I know you, Sharon.  You’re upset about something.  What is it?” he insisted.  She had his full attention now.

She paused to look at him.  “I can’t stand the woman,” she admitted.  “She gets on my nerves.”

His lips twitched.  “You really shouldn’t let Lauren get to you like this,” he advised.

“I don’t know—” her voice trailed off.  She had been about to say, “I don’t know what you see in her.”   Really flustered now, she stepped back from the desk.  “I will send her right in.”  And she was out of the office before he could say anything else.

“You may go straight in,” she told Lauren who gave her a rather disdainful look before sauntering off.  For the rest of the afternoon Sharon was in a bad mood.

Now she sat in front of her laptop, staring at the screen, unable to concentrate.  What on earth did he see in her?  She seemed so shallow.  He could do so much better.  

The sound of the doorbell startled her.  She glanced at the time on the laptop.  It was seven.  Who could be stopping by now?

She got up and went to the door.  She looked through the keyhole and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.  It was her boss.  What was he doing here?  She drew back from the door, agitated.  She wished he had called to warn her that he would be dropping by. She was in her dressing-gown and her hair was pulled by in a not so flattering hairstyle. She couldn’t keep him standing out there while she changed.  She had no choice.  Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and opened it.

She saw his eyes travel over her and she shifted self-consciously from one foot to the other.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she told him.  Least of all you.   He looked so fine in his charcoal grey suit and black shirt with a matching black and grey tie.  He looked like he just walked off the pages of GQ.  She could feel her pulse racing and she hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“I apologize for dropping by unexpectedly,” he said.  His eyes seemed to linger on her face which was beginning to feel hot.  “May I come in?”

“Yes, sorry.” She stepped aside and she caught a whiff of his cologne as he passed her.  She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.  Her heart was beating really fast now.  “Was there something you needed me to take care of?” she asked.  Why was he here?

He looked around the unit and then turned to face her.  “Very nice place you have here,” he commented.

“Thank you.”  He looked really, really good.  She hoped she wasn’t staring.

“This is not a business call,” he told her.

“Oh.” was all she could say.  He was obviously going somewhere.  Perhaps he and Lauren were going out for dinner and for some reason he decided to stop by here before…

“Have dinner with me.”

Stunned, she blurted, “Pardon me?”

“I wanted to ask you to have dinner with me tonight this afternoon when you came to my office but you left before I could.”

“You want me to have dinner with you?”

“Yes, that’s why I am here.”

“But I thought that you and Lauren—”

“What did you think about Lauren and me?”

“I thought you and she were going out.”

“It’s strictly business between Lauren and me.  Besides, she’s not my type.”

“What is your type?” the question was out before she could prevent it.

He smiled.  “I will tell you over dinner.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I made reservations for eight.  You had better get ready now.  I will wait over here.”  He turned and was walking over to the table where her laptop was.  She hurried past him and closed the top. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her poor attempt at writing a romance.  He didn’t say anything but sat down.

“I won’t be long,” she promised, all the while wondering what she was going to wear.

Thank goodness she had had a shower around six-thirty.  She rushed to her bedroom and closed the door.  After frantically searching through her walk-in closet, she seized the black dress she had bought just recently.  She hadn’t worn it as yet.  Well, it was about to make its debut.  She got dressed and tried to fix her hair as best as she could.  She was not a make-up person.  A flattering shade of lip gloss was all she needed.  After a quick once over in the mirror, she slipped her feet into a pair of pumps and grabbed her clutch purse.

When she walked into the living-room, Jason’s eyes traveled slowly over her, obviously liking what he saw.  “You look amazing,” he said.  He stood up.

She smiled.  “Thank you.”  As they walked to the door, she was aware of him and that his eyes were on her.  She still couldn’t believe that this was happening.  She had planned a quiet evening, working on her story.  Never did she expect Jason Armani to show up at her door and invite her out for dinner.  This was going to be some evening.