The rest of the week flew by uneventfully, and by Thursday I was glad it was almost the weekend. Leaving work close to seven in the evening was early for me. Usually I was at the office until after nine. Hungry, I stopped off at a burger place on the way home. Levine’s Burgers was as balanced and healthy as my diet got.
Sliding into a booth at the back of the restaurant, I picked up a menu. I decided on a works burger and thick cut chips, the first thing I set my eyes on. If you walked into this place without knowing anything about it, there was a good chance you’d walk right out. Its aging interior and daggy atmosphere made it a less-than-appealing place to eat. It wasn’t just convenience that led me here. Believe it or not, Levine’s held a lot of sentimental memories for me.
The first time I’d been there was as a child, way back before Mum left us. Mum had been a farmer’s daughter who had hooked up one night with my father during college and fallen pregnant with me. There was no love in their union at all; it was all about necessity. Dad’s father demanded they marry, so they did. What resulted was a very cold, emotionless relationship that carried over into childhood for my brother.
They were both full of blame and plenty of regret. Mum had to drop out of college and marry a man she didn’t love. Dad’s life didn’t change much. He was never really around, and being married certainly didn’t stop his screwing around. Mu
m was aware of his unfaithfulness, but she was also terrified of him.
When I was nine and Alex was seven, Mum went out one day to do some shopping and never came back. The note she left us in her room explained she couldn’t handle being our mother or my father’s wife any longer. As a nine-year-old, reading the words ‘I can’t handle being your mother’ was a kick in the guts. How could a child not take that to heart? For years I switched between blaming myself and blaming Dad for her leaving. Now, I just blame her. She made the decision to leave us. No matter how bad things are for you, how can you justify leaving your children in an environment you can’t handle yourself?
After she left, things with Dad became even more strained. If he was not around much before she left, afterwards we barely saw him at all. At nine, I had more contact with my nanny than my father, yet that didn’t stop the constant yearning I had to please him. Things finally changed in my teens. After years of being ignored, it was like suddenly at the age of sixteen I had become useful to my father. He included me and acknowledged me, though deep down I knew it was only for his benefit. If I wasn’t able to help, then I was no use. If I hadn’t shown any interest in the family business, then like Alex, I would’ve been ignored.
I often thought about Mum, especially when I went to Levine’s. It was the place of the last meal Alex and I had with my mother. Dad, of course, had been too busy working to eat with us.
“You ready to order?”
I glanced up at the uninterested waitress who stood with her pen poised, ready to take note. She looked about fifty, with curly red hair and freckles. I gave her my order and watched her as she walked back behind the counter.
The restaurant was pretty empty for a Thursday night. The young couple that sat two booths over were feeding each other chips in between smiling and giggling at each other. I rolled my eyes at their behavior. I turned and focused on the only other person in the place: a pretty woman who sat alone.
She looked young, probably early twenties, but there was something about her that I couldn’t put my finger on. Her cream-and-white striped dress that matched the other waitress’ outfit was a dead giveaway that she worked there. I hadn’t seen her before—not that I came in very often. She had the kind of face I’d remember, and coming from me that said a lot. Beauty was everywhere, and when you sleep with as many women as I did, it becomes difficult for beauty to stand out. But this woman did just that. She stood out from every other woman I’d been with or wanted to be with.
What exactly it was about her that drew my attention, I wasn’t quite sure. Her long dark hair hung down her back, layers flying everywhere. Every now and then she had to tuck the escaping strands back behind her ear, only to have them tumble right back out again. Her porcelain skin, so soft and creamy, looked even whiter against her dark red lips—lips that parted into a smile every few seconds as she read something on her phone. She looked up suddenly, my eyes darting away as she caught me staring.
Something inside me squirmed. Was that embarrassment I felt? Since when did a woman make me feel anything besides the need for a good fuck? I busied myself with my own phone, her gaze still burning into me, while my emotions tangled inside me like a confused mess.
“Enjoy.”
I jumped as the waitress dumped my meal in front of me with as much grace as a clown on acid, sending my fork flying across the cracked tiled floor. As I bent down to retrieve it, I inadvertently caught the gaze of my mystery girl who had looked up to see what all the commotion was. She smiled, her deep green eyes darting back down to her phone before I could respond with my own gesture.
The burger was good, albeit a little greasy. The cold, stale chips I didn’t touch. Downing the last of my water, I stood up, leaving a twenty pound note on the table. I passed the now empty table where my mystery girl had been sitting, her floral and musky perfume floating past my senses. I hadn’t noticed her leave, and the disappointment I felt surprised me.
Outside, I rifled through my pockets for my keys and approached my car. My mind was still on her. I kept seeing those stunning lips curve upwards into a smile. I should have approached her while I had the chance, not that I had any idea what I would’ve said. My usual lines wouldn’t have worked on her, nor would I have wanted to use them. This girl felt different. She hadn’t reacted to my attention at all, which unnerved me a little bit.
“Shit.” The faint feminine curse came from around the corner. Edging my way around, I saw her. She was kicking the tire of a car, presumably hers. Even from my distance away, I could see it was flat. My heart raced as I watched, the glow from the streetlamp next to the car radiating off her.
“Are you all right?” I asked, walking slowly toward her. She jumped, shocked by my presence, her face guarded. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my blood pulsated through my veins. I breathed out, not sure if it was the cool breeze or my close proximity to this beauty that was the cause of my symptoms.
“Flat tire,” she explained, gesturing toward the wheel. “And flat phone.” She held up her cell as if it were evidence. She leaned against the bonnet of the car, her legs crossed and her jacked wrapped tightly around her body. Even through the layers of clothes her body looked amazing, her bare legs seemingly going on forever.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” I asked, cocking my head. She hesitated, as if she were weighing up her options. “I promise I’m not a serial killer,” I added, chuckling. Fuck, I could feel my dick hardening at her nervousness.
“Would you tell me if you were?” she asked skeptically, biting her lip.
“Pardon?” I asked, swallowing a laugh.
“You know,” she pressed, “a serial killer. I mean, you wouldn’t be a very good one if you went around telling your victims you were a killer, but still…” Her voice trailed off.
“Honey, do I look like I would hurt a fly?” I asked, shrugging as if the idea were ridiculous. She eyed me skeptically, which made me laugh nervously. It was like she saw right through the fifteen years’ worth of barriers I’d built up around myself to the real me. The one I never showed anyone.
“I don’t know.” She looked down at my pocket where my hand was shoved. “Can I borrow your phone?” she asked. Wordlessly, I handed it to her, my eyebrows raised as my fingers brushed over hers. The feel of her skin against mine hit me like a lightning bolt and all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and kiss those sexy lips.
She dialed and held the phone to her ear.
“Hi, my car has a flat, can you pick me up?” she spoke quietly, her body turned away from me slightly. “An hour?” she glanced back at me, sighing. “No, it’s okay. I might have a lift.” She hung up the phone and handed it back to me.
“So, you’re accepting my ride?” I grinned, sliding my phone back into my pocket. She nodded.