Bellamy's Redemption

When we reached our building, the snow had begun coming down even more heavily than before. “You might be lucky enough to get out of work again tomorrow,” said Pete, holding the door for me.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“You never know. Tonight we’re supposed to get almost a foot of snow.”

“Wow. How do you always know so much?” I teased.

“Television. You ought to get one. It’s like, information just streams into your home through it. It’s pretty cool.”

“Speaking of television,” I said, as we waited for the elevator, “my friends tell me that you truly are the infomercial king that you say you are.”

“You didn’t believe me?”

I shrugged. “I believed you, but I failed to grasp the enormity of it.”

“I suppose I am starting to be that for real,” he said, laughing. “An infomercial king.” He shook his head as if he was as surprised by it as anyone. I got the impression he was a little embarrassed by his success. He pressed the elevator button again. We waited and waited, but couldn’t even hear it moving.

“Come on!” I said, pushing every button at once.

“So. You were talking about me with your friends,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring this. “Do you think it’s broken again?” I asked.

“Looks like it. Let’s take the stairs,” said Pete. We started up them together, on our journey to the seventh floor. He was a step in front of me and through his plastic shopping bag I could clearly see a half gallon container of orange sherbet, a jar of almond butter, and a box of chocolate covered cherries. All my favorites. I looked down at the steps in front of me, biting my tongue. We finally reached our floor, both of us a little out of breath. Our building is so old with such high ceilings that seven stories are like ten or twelve in a modern day building.

“We should make a deal that we both just take the stairs from now on,” said Pete. “To get in shape.”

“Good plan,” I agreed, since it was the shortest sentence I could think to say.

“Hey,” Pete said casually, as we arrived at his door, “Alanna and Antonio are going to be telling their side of the story tonight on the late show, if you want to come by.”

“You know their names now,” I said, smiling.

“I pay attention,” he said.

“I see that,” I said, glancing at the bag of groceries and back up at him.

He looked at the bag, and saw I could see right through it. He kind of deflated in self-consciousness and vulnerability, right before my eyes. I felt a little guilty. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy his rare lack of confidence. Something about the way he reacted made my heart beat faster. His vulnerability made me picture what it would be like to have sex with him. We were so predictable and human that I felt ashamed for the both of us.

And this moment became one of those unexpected, defining moments where a change will happen, or the opportunity will pass.

I thought of my friends, mocking him, and my pre-conceived ideas that he was probably a player, because he was too cute and flirtatious not to be. I told myself that He’s the Infomercial King, and it doesn’t get any worse than that. In that nanosecond I further reminded myself that the only power I had over him was that I was the one girl who wouldn’t give in to him.

Yet here I was, looking from a melting tub of sherbet into his eyes. His blue, beautiful, needy eyes. And all I wanted was to be with him.

“I would like to, but I really can’t stay up late tonight,” I s

aid. “Maybe some other night?”

“Sure,” he said lightly. “Have a good night.” He went into his apartment and closed the door firmly after him. I went to mine and did the same.

Chapter 5

Pete was right about the snow. I awoke at 5:30, intending to get to my office very early, but when I tried to look out my windows to get a feel for what kind of day lay ahead of me, they were completely covered with a frosty coating of snow and ice. I got on my computer and discovered that the entire city was in a snow emergency and people were instructed not the leave their homes except in the most dire of circumstances.

I’ve got to admit, I was ecstatic. A tad worried about the work piling up, yet ecstatic nonetheless. I emailed my boss and a couple of my clients, and then I crawled back into bed. It was so dark and cozy in my apartment that I slept soundly until my cell phone woke me at eleven thirty. I got up, surprised at myself. Even in college after partying all night I never slept past ten o’clock in the morning.

I turned on my coffee maker and checked my phone. I didn’t recognize the number or even the area code. I felt disappointed. I think I’d been expecting it to be Pete, even though he would have just stopped by and knocked on my door if he needed something. “It’s really better if you don’t go down that road. That Pete Road. Just… don’t,” I told myself. I dialed the code to check my messages and waited.