AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The photo sits in the forward email, just waiting for me to hit send, but I just can’t do it. If she is actually embarrassed about what almost happened, or regrets it, it would be an asshole move to rub it in her face. If I’m being honest with myself, sending it at all is probably a mistake. There are a million reasons I shouldn’t flirt with her in any way shape or form. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to anyway.
I agonize over what to say to her, even just over text, and I type and erase the words over and over again. Finally, I decide to just keep it short and sweet, since that would leave the least room for error or misunderstanding. Speaking from the heart,I try to tell her that the night together was very special to me, but at the very last second, I take it out and just tell her it was amazing, instead. It feels almost like I’m being cowardly, but this situation is so shaky there is no telling what the right thing to do is.
Dan:I just got home. Thank you again for the night, El. It was amazing. X
I don’t expect her to reply until morning, but to my surprise, a text comes in from her within minutes.
My pleasure, X
9
Amsterdam, May 1, 2022
Dan
I feellike I spend so much of my time being introspective sitting on my terrace that maybe I should just consider moving out here permanently.
I woke up later than usual, nearly at 11 am, but that was because I had slept so little the night before. I hate how much Elise is affecting me, and how she seems to infect my thoughts, but at the same time, I love it in a self-destructive way. I want to revel in my fantasies of us together, even if they are so bad for me.
Because of my sleeping and waking dreams about my best friend's sister keeping me up all night, I had to skip my favorite breakfast tea, and am now sipping a bitter espresso as I try to wake up. The only thing on my schedule for today is going to visit my dad to see the new Omega watch he’s getting today, a new edition to its vintage collection. I prefer a newer, sleek timepiece, but I have to admit there is something the antique models have that the new ones simply lack. History, orpersonality maybe. It will be interesting to see if Dad will put this piece up for sale after having it restored, or if he will fall in love with it and add it to his personal collection.
Other than that there is nothing I need to do on this lazy Sunday. Maybe I could drive the Audi, my preferred cold-weather vehicle, home when I go later today and drive one of the convertibles back instead since summer is nearly here. The cherry red 1969 Jaguar with the black hood sounds like a good choice, especially since it’s one of my only convertibles. If I close my eyes, I can picture a certain woman in the seat next to me, the dark blonde hair flowing behind her in a riot as I drive us along the mountainside. Maybe she reaches over and—
The fantasy is so deliciously real that I have the very real thought of throwing my phone off the terrace when it begins ringing. Frustrated, I set my espresso down and answer it.
“Hey,” Andries greets me as I put the phone against my ear. “Are you free for lunch this afternoon?”
Free for lunch this afternoon?Wow! That’s quite sudden for someone who’s living full-time with his fiancée. Did they have an argument or something? Sounds like Andries needs urgently to talk to me. I consider lying and telling him I’m busy, but I’m starving, and the strong coffee is making my stomach burn acidly. “Yeah, actually I am. How about Gartine?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”
I check my watch just as my stomach growls loudly. Even Andries hears it over the phone, and adds, “Actually, make it forty-five minutes.”
After spending all night among the social elite, I’m feeling the desire to indulge in some of my finer things, and I roll up tolunch in a powder blue hound’s tooth linen blazer and slacks, the white button-down shirt underneath opened to the third button. I’m overdressed, which is apparent from Andries’s eye roll when I walk in, pushing the aviator sunglasses off my face and onto my head.
He’s in dark denim jeans, short leather boots, and a simple white shirt, which apparently makes him think he’s in any position to judge me. “You know we aren’t going out on a yacht, right? This is just lunch.”
“What’s the point of owning all these suits if I never get a chance to wear them? Just shut up and listen to your elders, Andries,” I grumble, sitting across from him. He’s already ordered tea service, and the orange spice hot tea is enjoyable enough that I’m willing to play nice.
Andries has his hands folded on the table in front of him, his own teacup untouched as he watches me quietly. Finally, I give in, sitting the cup back on the saucer with a clink. “Okay, you’re being weird. What’s going on? Did you get into a fight with your lady or what?”
I’m half-expecting for him to nod and start opening up but to my astonishment, Andries just leans back on his chair, observing me all smug. “Don’t you have something to tell me, Dan?”
I look around the room. “Is this some sort of intervention? No, I don’t have anything to tell you.”
“Not even that you went to a gala with my sister last night?”
I freeze, guilt washing over me until I remember that nothing truly happened between Elise and me. In fact, the charity dinner is a perfectly acceptable event to take Elise, another young businessperson looking to network, as my plus one, and I tell Andries as much.
“It was a good opportunity for her to meet some of her peers and I needed a plus one to make me look better. Elise got tonetwork, and I showed up with the daughter of a noble family. Don’t look too much into it, my friend.”
“Your hand was on her hip,” he counters, eyes narrowing.
I thought that he had just heard through the grapevine that Elise and I had gone together, but this gives me pause. I had purchased all the pictures of the two of us from the photographer, so how had Andries known that?
“How exactly did you get this information?” I ask suspiciously, afraid that the photographer had lied and leaked the pictures anyway, but Andries pulls out his phone and shows me a professional photo posted on an Instagram celebrity gossip account. It’s Elise and I on the red carpet, posing for the camera, and yes, my hand is on her hip. But barely.
“Really, Andries, I didn’t think you followed that kind of trash news.”
