I’d agreed to the dinner only to get her off my case, but somehow the thought of going to that dinner tonight, felt like a betrayal of Zandi. Strange since I’ve never given much thought to such things in the past.
Mom had given it her best try, but like she’d said, I’d cancelled twice before. Both times business had interfered, this time I had a whole other reason for crying off.
I watched that reason approach and felt the same calmness I’ve become accustomed to, in her presence. She was the only person I knew who could make me crazy and yet be a soothing balm when I was having a bad day.
There were times in the past month when I’d come here after having a hard morning at the office. When just the sight of her had lifted my spirits and made me forget, if only for the hour or so I sat here watching her.
I wondered now as I watched her why this one woman, someone who I haven’t really spent any real time with as yet, should make me think in ways I never did before.
I’ve been known to date more than one female at the same time in the past. Since I always make it a habit to let my intentions be known from the start, there was never any sense of unfairness on my part.
I’ve never given any of the women I dated false impressions; never led anyone to believe that I was interested in more than a short enjoyable fling.
Those usually lasted a couple months at most. That’s how long it usually took before I grew bored and moved on to the next one that caught my interest.
But Zandi had caught and held my interest without any effort. And once again I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was the draw. Her indifference where usually women flocked around me, just begging for my attention.
Somehow I didn’t think so though. This felt different. Like there was so much more to her than my usual fare. Like I could spend a lifetime getting to know her and it still wouldn’t be enough.
When I’m around her I feel alive. Her snippy attitude and snappy comebacks make me feel warm, like a lovesick puppy. Even our back and forth is more exciting than anything I’ve ever shared with a woman before.
And I love egging her on just to get a rise out of her. Love to hear that sharp tongue of hers as she berates me. Or the way she rolls her eyes at some of my comments as if to say I’m full of shit and she knows it.
She has no fear of me, unlike most people of my acquaintance. Even the way she talks down to me and tries to put me in my place at every turn leaves me wanting more.
That’s how I know I have it bad. I’m willing to subject myself to her treatment on a daily basis just to be close to her. Either I’ve fallen in love or I’ve finally lost my fucking mind.
Whichever one it is, there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing I can do about it. I keep coming back for more. I’m Pavlov’s fucking dog.
When I leave her I feel empty, alone, lonely. As the lunch hour draws near each day, I’m filled with excitement at the fact that I’m going to see her again soon.
Once I showed up here expecting to see her and she wasn’t here. I knew it wasn’t her day off and had probably traumatized the poor girl who’d come to serve me by giving her the third degree.
I’d almost lost my shit when I was told that she’d called out sick, and hadn’t slept well that night, too worried about her and whether or not she was okay.
She was back the next day and had grudgingly shared the fact that she’d caught a twenty-four hour bug but was back to normal. I’d grilled her about going to the doctor and must’ve asked ten times if she was sure she was okay.
The thought of her alone and sick had really got to me and I guess I went just a little overboard with my reaction. But that was nothing new when it came to her and my feelings where she was concerned.
She pretended not to care but it was plain to see that my interest pleased her. And though she’d been her usual abrasive self, I could sense a change in her from that day on.
Cade
I’d thought for sure after that, added to my constant presence here day in and day out that she’d soften towards me a little; at least enough to give me her number, which she had yet to do.
But it wasn’t long before she was back to giving me shit and letting me know in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in whatever I was selling. In fact those were her exact words somewhere around week three.