One Night In Amsterdam (16 page)

I shook off the randy feeling boiling inside me and said, “It smells really good Emma,” instead.  Then I added. “But you didn’t need to cook. I planned on taking care of the food tonight, so you could just relax and enjoy.” I gestured at the two big insulated bags I was still holding. I set them on the granite counter and watched her stir the pot on the stove.

“You are my guest, coming to my place for the first time. Of course, I’d prepare something. I also thought it would be nice to have a warm meal.” She said smilingly and looked through the kitchen window.  “It looks like it is freezing outside. I am already dreading the walk to the subway tonight.”

“Yes, it is really cold. It got colder with the rain and the wind. Please don’t worry about the walk to the subway. My driver, Jeff, is going to pick me up, so it would be my pleasure to give you a ride.” I said and heaved a sigh, thinking how nice it would be to ride back to Manhattan with Emma, and how I would get to spend another hour with her, if she would agree.

“Let’s have dinner first. We can talk about the ride later. Maybe I will be so boring… you won’t want to stick around that long.”

“You could never be boring. If you remember, we spent an entire day together before you ran away, and not a minute of it was boring.”

“It was more like sixteen hours…” She corrected. “That was in Amsterdam when we were both on vacation. My life here, between Manhattan and Brooklyn, is pretty dull. So, consider this fair warning.”

“You gave me two hours. I am planning to savor every minute of it.”

“Fine!” She chuckled. “Let’s see how the night goes. First, why don’t you warm yourself in front of the fireplace while I set the table and do the final touches on the soup. Hope you like basil.”

“Yes, I like basil, and Emma… I am okay. I don’t need to warm up. I’d like to help.”

“You are wet and cold. Not to mention that you were coughing pretty bad last night. I don’t want you to get worse.”

“Believe me, I am fine. You need to stop being Dr. Collins for the next two hours. Alright! ”

“Fine!” She huffed and narrowed her eyes at me with a slight grin. “Would you like to try this for me?” She extended a spoon to me. Her other hand brushed my skin lightly as she held it under my chin so the soup would not spill, but that smallest contact was enough to awaken every nerve in my body. I swallowed the soup slowly while my eyes feasted on her hot, luscious body. Emma in a sundress was beautiful, however, Emma in tight jeans and a t-shirt was simply dangerous.

“So, what do you think? More salt or pepper?” She raised her brow and asked, then wiped the tiny drop of soup off my lower lip with her finger.

“Actually, it tastes perfect just the way it is.” I said, feeling disoriented with her proximity and touch.

“I thought I could arrange a nice dinner for you by bringing take-out from Cucina di Fabio. I was planning to charm you with his delicious dishes.” I admitted jokingly.  “Though I don’t think anything I brought can compete with your soup. I can just have this with bread and its heaven.”

“Oh, thank you Dylan!” She smiled. “How did you manage to bring take out from Fabio’s?” She asked completely bewildered. “I thought that Fabio didn’t do take-outs. Even to dine at his restaurant, there is always a long waiting list.”

“Let’s just say that he owes me one, or a few million to be more correct.”

“What do you mean?”

“I handle his investment accounts. While everybody got screwed and lost millions when the market crashed six years ago, my company made him a lot of money.” I explained quickly, although my history with Fabio went further than that.

I remembered the early years at Phliant Investment, how Max and I used our personal contacts to get clients and start our new business. We agreed on less than normal commissions to win the accounts. Fabio Modigliani was one of the first clients we had. As a young, ambitious and bold economist right out of college, I spent countless days running risk analysis, investigating unpopular stocks, and unknown firms when I took his account.  I made a few unusual and a bit risky decisions and turned his ten million into twenty in less than a year.  Fabio Modigliani’s account was our first big win and things got exciting from there on.

It was during the tough years in the stock market, when the real estate market crashed and billions of dollars were lost instantly, when even the big investment firms were struggling.  Being the small, new company like we were, nobody gave us a chance to survive in the most volatile market of the last decade, but the people in the investment business didn’t know that I had ambition, determination and patience unlike anyone else on Wall Street.  I spent countless nights and long days, analyzing small companies with possible break through products. I studied stock exchange markets from Tokyo to Frankfurt, from Moscow to Sydney. It’s easy to make money when everybody else is making money but the real challenge is to make money when nobody is. It requires talent, and I had that rare talent and intuition. Soon, we were making unusual investments. We were everywhere, investing in a new oil rig in Nigeria… a stem cell research company in Switzerland, marine and ship building industries in Korea. In less than two years, we turned three hundred million dollars in profit and we made our first billion in the third.  The big sharks of Wall Street were surprised; they couldn’t understand our unprecedented success. Both people and companies were getting in line for an appointment with us. A lot changed in seven years.  From a penniless college graduate, I turned into a successful CEO of the most promising investment company in the United States.

“Impressive.” She said concisely. “I didn’t know your company was that good, however I’d be lying if I said I’d like to hear more about it. Not much about Wall Street interests me.” She admitted honestly.

“But…” She chuckled, glaring at me mischievously like a little kid who was up to something. “I’d be more than happy to talk about food. Italian food is my favorite. So, what are we having?”

“Triple cheese lasagna, veal ossobuco with saffron rice, chicken saltimbocca and mushroom tortellini. I also got us some foccacia bread…There is also cannoli for dessert.”

“Oh my god, Dylan. It was supposed to be a dinner for two. There is enough food here to feed an army.”

“I might have over-ordered a little bit.”

“Only a little bit!”

“Just be glad that I didn’t bring the entire menu…” I teased her. “Maybe I did it on purpose. This way you’ll have enough left-overs to keep you out of vending machines for a few days.”

“Thoughtful and charming as always.” She commented. “What do you say? Shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s start.” I answered.

We started with her delicious soup. Then I had a piece of the veal and some saffron rice. I loved Fabio’s food, however tonight I couldn’t eat much. Instead, I watched Emma trying every dish and listened to her various comments on the subtle, hidden ingredients. She looked happy and relaxed, and I was happy just seeing her happy.

“I thought this was supposed to be a dinner for two. I am the only one eating.” She said as she poured me more cranberry juice. I wished we were drinking wine, it would have eased my tension, but she was going to work in a few hours, and that meant no alcohol.

“Somehow I don’t feel like eating much tonight.”

“Why? Is something wrong with your stomach? Are you feeling alright? Do you have heartburn or any other problem?” She started asking without a break.

“Easy Dr. Collins… you’re diagnosing me again. Believe me, there is nothing wrong with me. I just don’t have an appetite.” I said without admitting the real reason. The reality was that my stomach was in knots. I was taking deep breaths in and out and trying damn hard not to show my nervousness.

“Okay, how about dessert then…Do you want to have a cup of coffee with it?”

“Yes, coffee and dessert sounds great.”

We carried two cups of coffee and our cannolis to her living room. We sat on the sofa side by side, sipping our coffees quietly as we watched the flames dancing in the stone fireplace.  The faint crackling sound of wood was soon lost in the soft music, playing in the background, O soave fancìulla from Puccini’s La Boheme, followed with Mozarts’ Magic Flute and Rossini’s William Tell. The album was a compilation of various opera songs and each one was as touching and impressive as the previous.

I was lost in my thoughts, lost in the music. I couldn’t believe that Emma liked opera. I knew immediately where I was going to take her next time. There had to be a next time. Two hours weren’t enough. I had to find a way to convince her. Every minute I spent with her, with every little thing I learned about her, I was falling for her more and more.  It was hopeless. I was head over heels in love.

“You are awfully quiet tonight.” She muttered breaking the silence.

“Am I?”

“Yes. Actually you look a bit pensive too. Why?

“I don’t know, maybe because… I am nervous. I am scared. I am excited. I am hesitant…” I wilted.

“Dylan…” She stepped in, but I didn’t want to her to stop me after I finally summoned up my courage to talk.

“My mind is occupied with a lot of things, but especially with …” I paused to regain my thoughts. I couldn’t just tell her everything on my mind. I knew that it would only scare her.  “Well, let me just say that all I can think about right now is finding the perfect moment to kiss you again.” I confessed and closed the gap between us abruptly and tugged her into my arms. I held her face in my hand and gave her a long, scorching kiss. I kissed her hard and fervently, punishing her with my mouth for making me hopeless and defenseless. She didn’t give into my kiss. Her lips weren’t moving as they did when I kissed her the other times. I sensed her ambivalence between her never-easing mind, occupied with thoughts and feelings.

“I know you want to kiss me, so kiss me…” I told her finally and moved an inch away. A flicker of hesitation moved through her eyes as she drew her lips between her teeth.  I wanted to suck her lips, to make her squirm with desire. I wanted her to want the sweet cohesion of our lips as much as I did.

While I ached inwardly, stopping myself from plunging into her mouth and claiming her lips, I waited patiently, gazing intently into her eyes. There came my sweet torture, the anticipation of holding her tightly in my arms and exploring her mouth as she stood austere, not moving an inch.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I was supposed to give her time, let her set the pace of the evening, but I couldn’t. Her beautiful face with her luscious lips an inch away, my feelings became unbridled. I leaned in, traced her cheek with my fingers and brushed her delectable lips with mine. I was slow and tender this time and she finally parted her lips and responded to me. She ran her hands through my hair and kissed me back. I wanted to touch her, feel her naked body under me. I inched her t-shirt up slightly and grazed my thumb over her belly, caressing her softly, but suddenly, she broke away.

“No, Dylan. I can’t.” She rejected with lifted brows and tightened lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault.” I cursed myself for rushing and ruining things again.

“It’s not you. I am not ready for this, for us. Dylan, I cannot give you what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“I’m just guessing ...”

“And your guess is?”

“You want someone you can have a relationship with.”

“Why can’t you be that person?”

“Because my life is complicated. There is so much going on in my life that I don’t have time for a relationship. Plus, I don’t even know you. All I know is that you work on Wall Street and have a successful company.”

“Come on Emma. You know more than that. I’ve told you things that I have not told anybody else in my life.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am not ready for a relationship.”

“I understand that you are not ready. But don’t just cut me off completely. I promise I will take it slow.”

“Dylan, we passed the level ‘slow’ our first day in Amsterdam.”

“Then, let’s forget about Amsterdam. I am asking for a clean slate. Pretend we just met. I’ll take you on a date, nothing else… scout’s honor.”

“Were you even a scout?” She folded her arms across her breasts and asked accusingly.

“Indeed, I was.”

“Hmm.” She shook her head and sighed. “Can I at least think about this a little bit? I have to leave in ten minutes to catch my train.”

“I told you Emma, Jeff will be here any minute. Don’t be stubborn. It’s raining like crazy outside. Let me give you a ride.”

She squinted at me and pursed her lips. “Alright, a ride it is...”

“How do you even bear the stench of the subway?”

“It’s not that bad, and as they say, you are not a true New Yorker if you don’t use the subway.”

“Born and raised in Manhattan and I’ve never used it once.”

“Here comes the arrogant guy I met in front of the brothel.”

“You’re not going to let that one go, are you?

“Nope. I think I can use it wherever and whenever it suits.”

“Fine!  Not liking the subway has nothing to do with arrogance. It’s crowded. It stinks and I don’t think it’s safe, especially close to midnight.”

“NYC subway after midnight being dangerous is a myth. I have been using it for over a year now and it is perfectly safe. There are other people like me taking the subway all the time. I always sit in the first car right behind the conductor and just in case, I always carry mace in my purse. It is totally fine.”

“Can I ever win an argument with you?” I shook my head.  Emma riding alone in a deserted subway in the middle of the night was a scary thought and her using her mace in case she got attacked was even scarier. “Why do you live in Brooklyn, anyway?”  I asked, feeling apprehensive and concerned. “Wouldn’t it be easier to live in Manhattan, closer to Columbia or the hospital?”

“It would, but I like it here. This was my mother’s house and it belonged to my grandparents before her. It is a special place for me. The title of the house was transferred to me when I turned eighteen but I didn’t move in until last year.”

“Why last year?”