No Ordinary Bloke (11 page)

“I’m sorry…This must be because…”
Because of
what
?
What was the appropriate lie to tell in this situation? I took a step back, and she dropped her hand. “I do apologize,” I said, tugging at my tie. “I’m simply so stressed at work right now. I have a huge meeting this after lunch.”

“But this has never happened be—”

“I should just go. I’m no good for you until I get this presentation done.” I grabbed my coat, and before I fled, I kissed her on the top of the head once again. “Bye, princess. So sorry. I’ll get back to you.”

Two minutes later I was sprinting down the streets of London in a humiliated panic. How could I not get it up? Especially for Candy! I’d managed to fuck her before when I was barely coherent enough to say her name, let alone shag her. Was something wrong with me?

I stopped in the middle of the street when I remembered something incredibly important—I’d jacked off just that morning and nothing special was required. All it took was my morning stiffy and my go-to montage fantasy of tits and sex. My dick
was
working properly. It just didn’t work properly for Candy. I began walking back to my office because the world was making sense again. All I needed to do was find a new shag.

The following week, I tried in vain to ignore that Allison might be in London. Work was piling up as the end of the year approached, so I was grumpy already when I repeatedly checked my mobile to see if she called. When the days passed and I didn’t hear from her, I only became more of a pisser.

Then on Thursday morning, Elinor buzzed me, “An Allison Wright from Greystone is on the line for you. I know you’re busy. Shall I send her to your voicemail?”

“No! Not there!” I may never hear from her again if I didn’t take her call. And why was she calling my bloody desk? Why not my mobile?

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk to her or not?”

“Yes, yes. Please send her through.”

“Here you go then,” Elinor said, probably a little annoyed with my outburst. I never barked at her.

I didn’t have time to dwell on Elinor because my line rang. I took a breath and picked up the line. “Allison Wright, I presume.”

“It is.” She laughed softly. “How are you, David?”

“My day is much brighter now that you’ve called.”

“You’re sweet. It’s good to hear your voice. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but it’s been busy. I don’t suppose you’re free for coffee later this afternoon.”

For her, I’d always be free for coffee or whatever the fuck she might want to drink, but I didn’t like the signals I was getting from her. She didn’t ring my mobile, and then she offers a date of coffee, not even lunch. These were not welcoming signs. I needed to turn the tables again on her. “Actually, I’m a bit slammed myself, and I have an errand to run mid-afternoon.”

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence which I prayed signaled she was disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

“I suppose you could help me with my errand.”

“Sure. I guess. If I can.”

“Brilliant. Can you meet me at 3?”

“Yes, at your office?”

“No. Tiffany’s.”

“Tiffany’s?”

“Yes, Tiffany’s. I need to do some shopping.”

“Are these wedding gifts?”

“Of course.”

“David, you crack me up.”

“I’m very sorry we won’t be shopping for you, but don’t you think it’s a bit premature for me to buy you jewelry with Trey still around and all?”

“Yes, just a bit.” She laughed. “So where is this Tiffany’s?

Later that afternoon, I stood outside the Tiffany’s on Old Bond Street, jingling the change in my trousers when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Allison in a bright blue coat that only made her hair more vibrant and her skin more luscious. “Hi,” she said with a smile.

I leaned down and gave her a kiss on either cheek. “Hello, love. It’s good to see you.”

When I pulled away, her hand self-consciously went to the last cheek I kissed. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She still hadn’t removed her hand from her face, so I asked, “Now why can’t I kiss you on the cheeks? It’s very European.”

“You’re British.” She smirked and withdrew her hand.

“Yes, but I’m not one of these Brits who think we need to turn our back on Europe.”

“Is that because you like to make money there or because you like to kiss women on the cheek with impunity?”

“Both. Of course, I also like to vacation there, and the wine is quite good as well.”

“Maybe you should move there.”

“Fuck no. It’s hard enough for me to be able to get out to a Liverpool game as it is.” I nodded to the giant doors of Tiffany’s and smiled. “Shall we?”

Soon after we entered the store, I was greeted by name by several of the clerks. Normally, they’d just let me go about my business, and I’d be out of there in ten minutes. Today was different for them. There was a woman on my arm—a very strange sight indeed. One of them must’ve signaled their manager, because he was at our side at once.

A rounded old gent, he extended his hand. “Good day, Mr. Bates. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He then turned to Allison. “I’m Stanley Merriwether, the store’s manager.”

“Hello, Stanley,” I said shaking his hand. “This is Allison Wright.” Stanley caught my eye, and I realized I needed to give her some kind of identifier. The poor bloke didn’t know if she was a girlfriend or a fiancée. I grasped for something innocuous. “Allison is a colleague of mine.”

“Fantastic,” Stanley said, clearly relieved to have a compartment to put Allison in, though maybe disappointed that he wouldn’t be showing us diamond solitaires that day.

“Hi,” Allison said, as he extended his hand to her.

“So you work at Barclays as well, Ms. Wright?” asked Stanley.

“No, I work for Greystone, another investment firm. I’m based in New York.”

“New York? Lovely. With the best Tiffany’s store in the world I might add,” said Stanley.

I patted Stanley on the back and handed him a piece of paper. “Stanley, I just need to order a few items for some friends. May I have the registries for Tamara Schwartz, Annette Crown, and Natalie Jenson? I wrote the names down for you here.”

“Certainly. I’ll have them printed out for you at once. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he half way across the store, Allison said, “Well, that was amusing.”

“How so?”

“He had no idea what to make of me.”

“Yes, I think that’s true.”

“Have you ever brought another woman here?”

“No.”

“Do you think he thought maybe you were buying me a ring?”

“Dunno. But a bloke as big as him might not get over the heart attack of me buying a girl a ring to actually enjoy the commission.”

She laughed. “Poor guy. You’re tormenting him.”

“Don’t mean to.”

“Tell me about these women we’re buying for. Who’s the first one?”

“Tamara?” I had a vision of her dark curls and throaty laugh. “Wonderful girl. I’m very happy for her. She’s found the nice Jewish boy she’s always wanted.”

“Ah, so this is a woman who would’ve never married you even if you wanted to marry her?”

“Indeed.”

“Because you wouldn’t convert to Judaism?”

“Well, there are a lot of reasons why we weren’t destined for marriage….”

“Obviously.”

“Me converting wouldn’t be one of them.”

Stanley interrupted for a moment to hand me the registries, saying that he couldn’t find one for Annette. That didn’t surprise me. For Tamara, I went straight to the silverware. As Allison and I walked to that section of the store, she asked, “So you’d change religions for someone?”

“Within reason. I don’t think I’d become one of those American sects that play with snakes and speak in tongues.”

“So what? Are you agnostic?”

“Agnostic is the right word I suppose. I see believing in God as insurance for the afterlife that costs me little today.”

“Very pragmatic of you. What about your kids? Would you pick a religion for them?”

“Fuck yes.” I nodded. “I’ve thought the idea that you don’t choose a religion for your child so they can pick one is absolute rubbish.”

“How so? Personally, I wouldn’t leave it up to them, but I can see why others might want to give a kid a choice later.”

“A choice? There are certain things there are no choices about. Take for example football. If I’m ever lucky enough to have kids, damn straight, they’re going to be Liverpool fans as long as they’re under my roof or getting a dime from me.”

Allison giggled. “So what if the woman you wanted to marry asked you to convert to Arsenal for them?”

“Then she is
not
the woman for me.”

“You’d forego a lifetime of happiness just for a football team.”

“If I had to root for Arsenal, it would not be a lifetime of happiness. More like a life of drudgery and arseholes.”

“I can see this is something you feel passionately about.”

“Absolutely.” I looked down at the registry and decided that Tamara deserved something better than a breadknife, but not too big. “Let’s see here. She wants silver salt and pepper shakers. Those are always nice.”

“Her husband can salt his dinner every night and she can think of you.”

“She wants the Chester set. Do you see them?”

“Hmm.” She scanned the glass display case. “Oh, they’re right here. They look…” She frowned. “They look different.”

I took a step closer. “Oh dear. I suppose they’re acorns, but they look like two hairy bollocks.”

“Bollocks? I thought that meant stupid.”

“It does. It also means testicles.”

“Really?” She burst out laughing. “I’m now going to think of testicles every time you say that.”

“Good God. I hope not Trey’s,” I said slyly. “Probably all saggy and gray haired. Turns my stomach, really.”

She punched me in the arm. “Now don’t make age jokes about Trey.”

I smiled because that confirmed that his balls looked like two deflated white balloons. Given my past performance with Candy, I had no room to crack the obvious joke about an old guy’s pecker, but I did anyway. “Lucky for you, they have that little blue pill now.”

“I am not commenting on my sex life,” she said, crossing her arms. “Except to say there are no blue pills involved.”

I’d promised myself not to bring up Trey’s infidelities, both because it could backfire horribly on me, but also because I really didn’t have any real proof. I couldn’t help make a little comment though. “No, I daresay given his previous track record, he has no problem in that department.”

She gave me a sour look for bringing up his past, which she had to know was as colorful as my present. When she didn’t reply, I playfully puffed up my chest. “Much like me.”

After a snort of laughter, she said, “You really are so bad.”

“The word is ‘cheeky’, love. We say cheeky over here.”

“Cheeky? What does that mean?”

“Teasing. Naughty. Sort of in on your own joke. Something like that.”

“What about unbelievably conceited about one’s perceived sexual prowess?”

“That might be found in the psychology books.”

“With your photo as an example.”

“Now come now, love.” I looked down into her eyes that I was sure needed an emerald ring to match. “You find me endearing, don’t you?”

“I find you…” She shook her head. “I find you…” Then finally she sighed, “I find you adorable in every way which is probably why I’m here right now when I should be back at the office.”

“Adorable? Like a puppy? Good God, I’m off my game, if you only want to pat my head.”

She lifted her eyes up to the heavens and sighed again. “I said adorable in every way, okay? I think that covers all aspects of a woman’s appreciation of a man.”

Well, if that wasn’t a bloody roundabout way of admitting she liked me at least a little… I smirked again. “Maybe then you might want to pat my other head as well?”