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Authors: H. Ward

Helpless (5 page)

BOOK: Helpless
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“I really hope you are Leah,” he says smoothly as he leaves his little red car along the curb blocking traffic.  There is absolutely no parking right in front of the Arch.  Horns start to blare as he walks toward me not even flinching at the noise and scuffle he is leaving behind him.

             
I don’t give him a hint.  Let’s see how together this guy is.

             
He doesn’t even act like I am freezing him out.  He has a smile that is
not
a mile wide, just enough to show he is smiling.  That works for me, I always thought a face full of white teeth on a man was alarming, kind of beastie like.  Ok, check one for an appropriate smile.

             
He notices I am evaluating him.  So he stops his advance toward me and cocks his weight on one leg and slightly holds both arms out, as if to give me a full view.  Then, without saying anything, he does a slow turn right on the sidewalk.  Fine, he’s got my number for right now. 

             
Mostly I find I like athletic type of guys.  This guy is a little more filled out everywhere.  I would say his legs are just a touch thicker all around than the soccer players that get all the love here in London.  Not more muscular, just thicker, but not hunky fat.  Kind of like muscle with a little padding.  A Rugby player.  Same with his arms and his middle is not a rippling six-pack, but it is not hanging over anywhere either.  Just a solid middle.  I realize I can’t call him a bull because he is tall enough to pull this body shape off.  Bullish guys are a little shorter for their weight, they look kind of stocky.  The only word that comes to mind as I finish my scan is:  strong.

             
“Jason Everett, I presume?”

             
“Yes.  Shall we ease off to dinner before the bobbies show up and haul my little Austin away?”  He gently cups my elbow and guides me to the car without waiting for my answer.  Ok, I admit; that was smooth.  I liked that.  Most guys are so in awe of me, they blabble and beg permission for almost everything.  Takes forever to get them to bed.

             
I slide into a soft black leather seat.  The top is down as it is early summer and even though it is now after ten, the evening is mild and perfect.  It is an older car, an Austin-Healey, but that’s all I know.  I can’t venture a guess as to the year or any other smart things to say to show off things I know about sports cars to him. 
WAIT!
Am I trying to think of things to say to impress this guy?  I actually shake my head as he settles into his seat.  Now this is backwards.  I sneak in a quiet and deep breath to get myself under control.  My hand twitches wanting to grab a little pill.  I resist, but promise myself I will march right into the Ladies room and take care of this before we are even seated.

             
The engine growls to life.  That may sound trite, but I swear the English really do make their sports cars growl.  It is a typical British two-seater, lovely and small and zippy.  I relax back into the leather seat and really enjoy the ride to … oh, my, I’ve forgotten what restaurant I asked Jason take me to. 

             
I close my eyes and concentrate on my empty stomach.  Then I remember I can’t just eat, I am on a diet to make sure I stay on my A game.  That leads my mind to little bits of rabbit food on a plate.  L’Autre Pied!  Yes, a place that is expensive and ensures you leave hungry.  Works of art on a plate that will be in keeping with my diet.

             
“Did you manage to get us a table at L’Autre Pied on such short notice?” I ask sweetly. I am hoping to have him babble his apologies and see what alternative plan he may have come up with.  He smiles but doesn’t say anything right away.

             
It is odd to be driving for a few minutes in silence.  I have been self-absorbed, which is normal; but he has been quiet and not trying to demand my attention which is definitely not normal.  Finally he nods and answers me.

             
“I did.  I took the liberty of locking in a table by the window.  I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to look out on the city.”  He bends his head toward me a little, but doesn’t really turn to look at me, he seems to be just really enjoying driving and weaving his little car along in the traffic.  He isn’t being rude, just not kissing up to me.

             
His face is relaxed and looking straight ahead.  I take the time to do an up close inspection.  His jaw is a little bigger than perfect.  He is close shaven, I wonder how he had time to do that and beg L’Autre Pied to hold a table for him.  His nose is also a little bigger than perfect, but his dimensions are all tall and big so somehow it really works on him.  Taken separately, only his deep brown eyes and dark lashes are handsome out of all his facial features, but together it all really works.  The same with his big body. 

             
He certainly is not the type of guy I have ever gone out with before.  If I am not sneaking around with a lonely old fart off my secret website, then I am seen in public with a drop-dead handsome guy that is either a model or a rich playboy.  All classically handsome. Jason is very nice looking, but I wouldn’t call him handsome.  Yet, somehow I like his look more than the slick young fools I have been out with. I can’t pin down the reason.  Perhaps it is because he seems like a real person, whereas those others were just superficial.

             
He is wearing understated but expensive pants; linen/cotton blend, I think.  All black.  A shirt of a purple/blue color; button up style shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  Looks like Fendi shoes.  I approve of the expensive but not flashy clothes. 

             
It’s been silent for a while again, but we both seem comfortable and I know I am enjoying the ride.  I jump when he finally breaks the silence.

             
“Almost there.”

             
I feel a little embarrassed about being startled, but Jason either didn’t notice or didn’t care.  He doesn’t call me out on it or make fun of me.

             
We pull into the loop for valet parking.  The valet opens the door for me and goggles his eyes at me.  Remember, I did say ravishing.  I smile at the poor boy who is now drooling.   At least he is drooling over me and not the car.

             
Ahem.
Jason clears his throat to get drool-boy’s attention.  “Here you go.” He tosses the keys over forcing the valet to snap out of it and get the car out of the way.

             
“Shall we?” He takes my elbow before I answer, again.  Not pushy, but not really waiting for me either.  I incline my pretty red head toward him and we stroll into the restaurant.  In my heels my eyes are just below the level of his eyes.  It is a perfect height match.  I smile.

             
Once inside, I immediately excuse myself to the bathroom.  The ride may have been nice, we may look like a great couple, but I am still a little restless.  I fuss with my hair; after all, I was just in a topless car.  Then I pop a little pink pill and smooth my deep green mini-dress.  I swivel a foot to admire my black pumps and smooth white ankle.

             
I frown.  I try to keep out of the sun for many reasons.  But after my last shoot, I realize my arms are a darker white than my legs.  Great God.  I’m going to have get some bronzer and cut it with lotions so it isn’t as strong as it is supposed to be for my Scottish heritage skin, and slather it on my legs so they pick up just a little more color.  This beauty shit just never ends.  I hope this guy doesn’t notice my uneven color.  Sometimes guys don’t notice, but any girl I get close to might notice my arms and legs are different shades.  This is horrible.  At least I can tuck my legs under the table.

             
I head back out to the main entrance.  Jason is standing there looking patient and talking to the hostess.  I move through bamboo screens and jade colored decorations.  He smiles that small smile again and takes my elbow to escort me behind our hostess.  We are shown to our table.  I think that this could be an Asian themed place considering all the black lacquer tables and dark wood and green accents, yet it is called Modern European.  What that means is lots of pretty food that wouldn’t satisfy a mouse.  But it is so pretty, so that helps when you leave hungry after your dinner.   I smile to myself at how witty I am being.

             
Poached Sea Bass on a bed of mushed up peas with lovely sticks of weird stuff stuck into it.  Supposedly all this is edible.  I actually say this out loud and get a genuine laugh from Jason.  That was nice.  We have some very light talk as we eat; the conversation is nothing to write home about.  The little bites of food are divine, which I suppose makes up for the miniscule amount I have on my plate.

             
Jason seems to be enjoying himself.  He is glancing out the window, taking in the people and the scenery.  He often leans back between bites and seem almost to completely relax.  Stretching out his legs and just calmly taking in the whole area.  He is not awestruck, like a mid-western tourist, just observing.  I have never been to a dinner outing with a person who is so relaxed and low key.  I can feel his calm manner influence me a little bit.  It is nice to be able to just eat and enjoy the surroundings.  I might just like this guy.

             
It is almost midnight and we are finishing up.  I planned to have him take me clubbing and get some drinks in me.  But even though I spent so much time sound asleep, I am tired.  Also, the calm aura he has given off has settled some of restlessness.  I better get him home and try my theory about sex with this more manly specimen.

             
“I’m sorry, Jason; I seem to be a little more tired than I expected.”  I start to drop the hint about going back to his place and he interrupts me.

             
“I’ll be glad to take you home, no need to be sorry.”

             
Great.  Now I have to drop some sex hints with him like I do for the old guys.  “I think I’d be up for a nightcap?”  I end it on a questioning note to leave the ball in his court.

             
“Where would you like to go?”

             
Damn, he is not taking the hint.  “I’m really not up to crowds tonight; can we just go to your room and relax?  We could call room service. ”

             
“Certainly we can, I hear Flemings Hotel has stellar service at all hours.  Let’s test that out.”  He smiles like a co-conspirator at me.  I can’t help but grin back. 

             
“Flemings it is.”  

             
I think,
that’s not a bad hotel
.  It is not top of the line, so this guy can’t be filthy rich, but it is a very nice boutique hotel with a great reputation.  The average tourist really can’t afford it, so at least I know this guy has enough money to meet my standard of care.

             
I muse as we drive in the sporty red car back to Flemings Hotel.  That is the beauty and brilliance of the special website I use.  Since they are all rich, if anyone recognizes who I really am and tries to splash some rag news gossipy article about me, I can just say I was out with a friend.  Since they all move in the top circles of the wealthy, it is believable, and if I am never seen with the guy again, the news will fade right away. Perfect.

             
The night air rushes around my face. Feeling it is making me feel better. It is kind of a way to feel a new sensation and making me feel like I really exist in the world.  I tilt my head back which allows the wind to pick up my hair and stream it behind me.  A red waving cloud.

             
I realize I haven’t asked this guy why he is in London right now and where he is from.  I never really care about the guys I spend time with.  Their job is to entertain me and keep me occupied.  Well, it seems too late to ask about that now.  It would seem really awkward to ask something like that now, during a quiet car ride.  I’ll just forget about that and enjoy the night.  Who cares anyway?  I’ll have a hot night of sex and then I’ll never see this guy again.

             
We head up to his room, look over the cocktail menu and order up some frozen drinks.  He settles down on the sofa with an arm thrown over the back.  So I snuggle right in against him.  But he doesn’t drop his arm around me.  He finally starts to become wordy, but not like he is nervous and trying to work up to the bedroom, just like he is straight up talking about what is on his mind.

             
And what is on his mind is that he had a nice time (not wonderful, like I am used to hearing) and that he would like me to show him around London tomorrow if I am free. I sure don’t want to just sit around, so I actually would like to hang around with him tomorrow.  But what if I don’t like the sex?  Then it will be awkward and he may want sex again tomorrow night.  I’m saved by answering by room service knocking.

             
As Jason lifts his arm and moves around me to rise and answer the door, his arm brushes against my bare neck.  I feel a tingling.  Oh, I just may have hit on the key to good sex.  A sexy guy.  I am actually looking forward to this now.

BOOK: Helpless
3.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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