The One who got Away

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it in an attempt to soothe my aching hungover head. I shouldn’t have drunk so much, but the conversation was so intriguing I hadn’t paid attention to what I was consuming. I looked around the house and over at my blender, realizing I probably couldn’t feed her my usual spinach smoothie. I opened the fridge and pulled out everything I had that was somewhat breakfast like and started cooking, hoping she liked veggie omelets and coffee with milk instead of creamer. When I was done, I loaded it onto a tray and went back to the bedroom, setting it down on the table and waking her gently with a kiss on the cheek.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, probably trying to recognize where she was. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled, reaching up and rubbing my arm. She was even more beautiful in the early morning than all dolled up at the bar.

“Morning,” I said. “I made us some breakfast.”

“Awe,” she replied, rubbing her temples. “That’s so sweet.”

“Here, drink this water, you’re probably dehydrated,” I said, handing her a bottle.

We sat on the bed eating breakfast, laughing at how drunk we were the night before. It wasn’t awkward like I thought it would be, though I was pretty used to feeling awkward. Her smile was warm, and she related to everything I said. When we were done eating, I called down to the front and asked them to send some clothes up in her size.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I thought maybe we could go out in town, spend a little time together,” I said with a smile.

She liked that idea, so we got dressed and headed out, starting first in Central Park. It was a gorgeous day, just slightly breezy and warm enough that I was glad spring had finally arrived. The winter had been harsh this last year, and New York was a slushy mess. As we walked, we talked about a lot of different things. She told me about growing up in upstate New York, about her family, and that her sister lived in the city too.

“It’s hard to make friends in this city,” she said. “There are so many people, but no one wants to connect. And forget the dating world, it's atrocious.”

“I know what you mean,” I replied. “Most of the people I meet are hard to talk to, too caught up in the media, the trends, Instagram, Facebook, and what everyone else is doing. I feel like I’m the only person my age with drive and the ability to look outside the box.”

“So true,” she said turning to me smiling. “Honestly until last night I had stopped talking to anyone. I was at the bar because I walked out of a terrible blind date my sister set me up on. The guy was your typical no direction, blind, drone, not willing to look outside his own comfort level. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but those people irritate the hell out of me. Why is everyone so afraid to be wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I chuckled. “Being wrong only means you get to learn something at the end of it. Then you can be right again.”

“Exactly,” she laughed jutting her hands out passionately. “Ugh, it’s exhausting.”

We walked out of the park and down the street, grabbing lunch at a small deli on the corner. It wasn’t the best place in the city, but I liked the people there. They were friendly, helpful, and the owners were also the operators. I could still remember how hard it was when Pope Financials started out, I worked non-stop, seven days a week. I was thankful to everyone who put their faith in me, so, I tried to pay it back wherever I could.

The day seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, the sun was starting to go down. We were standing back in front of The Avalon after spending all day just walking around the city and talking. There wasn’t a moment that I could remember thinking this woman was boring or unintelligent and that had been the first time in my adult life that I hadn’t had those thoughts at some point or another. She looked up at me and smiled, stretching her arms high in the air.

“I guess I should be getting home,” she said.

“Not a problem, we’ll take the car,” I replied.

She nodded her head yes, and I walked over and opened the door for her. I climbed in next to her and listened as she told the driver her address. She lived right outside of Manhattan in one of the brownstones I always thought were so cute. For the first time ever, I felt self-conscious about the fact that I lived in such an excessive place, but I didn’t have the time to be as self-sufficient as I assumed she was. I worked all day and most of the evening and relied on my money to see me through. I knew it was a pathetic excuse, but it was the way I had always done things.

As we drove along, watching the lights of the city, I reached over and took her hand, pulling it into my lap. She looked over at me and smiled, her green eyes sparkling in the reflection of the passing buildings. She was so beautiful, I still couldn’t get over it. I had been with plenty of beautiful women in my life, something having money and a charming smile did for a guy, but there was something different about her that attracted me, and not only in the pants. I shook the feeling off, knowing I was being illogical and emotional, I had only known the girl for twenty-four hours.

When we pulled up in front of her place I smiled, seeing the wreath she had hanging on the door. I walked her to the bottom of the steps and watched as she smiled and took a deep breath. It was the first time all day I didn’t know what to say.

“Well,” she said. “Here I am.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said looking up at the house.

“Thanks,” she replied. “Thank you for today, it was surprisingly relaxing. It was what I needed.”

“Give me your phone,” I said, handing her mine.

We stood there and exchanged numbers before passing our phones back. I leaned down and kissed her gently but with meaning, wanting to let her know I had an amazing time, even though I couldn’t muster the words. When we pulled apart it took her a few seconds to open her eyes, and she giggled, turning to walk up the stairs. I watched her all the way up and waved as she smiled and shut the door. I walked calmly back to the car, feeling like I could take off in a sprint. She was the first woman I had been able to hold a conversation with, ever. I wanted to see more of Ruby.

Chapter Eight

Ruby

I walked along the sidewalks of the city, looking at it in a different light than I had just a few days earlier. Nathan had just dropped me off the night before at my house, but I already hoped he would call and ask me out again. Meeting him was a surprise, something I didn’t think would happen in a million years. I literally went to the bar to get away from guys after that horrible blind date, but I sure was glad I did, because that one night and day had done wonders for my faith in men. I still didn’t know if I would ever see Nathan again, but I had a good feeling about it.

I walked up to the door of Marie’s, a bakery and bagel shop that I was meeting Lisa at for our weekly Sunday morning coffee and gossip session. When I walked in, she was in the back booth waving her hand at me with a full mouth of food. I swore she was the skinniest person, but she ate like a freaking three-hundred-pound man. I walked over and plopped down in the booth, letting out a deep sigh.