Wait for Me (9 page)

“What is it?” I asked.

“I have to go. I need to be up early tomorrow – I'm climbing with friends”.

I pulled away from him, uncertain. What had I said? A moment later, Adam was on his feet getting dressed. I copied him, grabbing my t-shirt and jogging pants and slipping into them quickly. I sat on the bed and looked at him, a little dismayed. What had I said? That he was beautiful? Certainly nothing outrageous, but he was definitely on the defensive now.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, timidly.

“No, it's all good,” he planted a kiss on my lips and stroked my head.

“Then why does it feel like you're running away?”

“I'm not running away – it's just that I'm climbing in three hours and I need to be on good form.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, perplexed, and let out a short breath. “Yeah, I'm sure you'll be on top form in three hours,” I said sarcastically.

He put his knee on the bed and held my face in his hands. “Sophie, honestly, I have to go. I promise I'll call you later.”

He stood up and I followed. Dejected, I walked to the door with him.

“I'll call you later,” he repeated in the doorway.

Like hell you will, I thought. He didn't even have my number… he didn't even ask for my number.

Leaning against the wall and watching him, I nodded.

“Go back to bed,” he said, lightly touching my arm. “I'll see you soon.”

“Alright, bye,” I said. Asshole, I thought.

“Bye.”

I slammed the door. That bastard had lured me in and I had fallen for it – hook, line and sinker. What had he heard when I told him he was beautiful? What had he assumed? That I might fall in love with him? Why the hell did I say that? Especially to someone like him, someone so allergic to commitment that he would rather go with hookers. Stupid girl. Weary, I put myself to bed, still inhaling his scent.

Hugging the pillow, I fell asleep.

A few hours later, the phone rang. It was my brother.

“Happy New Year, Sophie!” said Fred. “So, how boring was it?”

“Erm… it wasn't,” I replied thickly.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking around.

“It's 10 a.m.!” he exclaimed. “We're going to Mom's, remember? I'll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

“Eugh. Right… I'll be ready.”

“Rise and shine, Sophie!” he yelled down the phone. “It's 2013 – ‘New year, new you'.”

“Yeah, whatever. See you soon.” I hung up.

All in all, it wasn't looking good. I hadn't exactly chosen the best starting point. In addition to the joint pain that lingered from my early morning workout, there was one thought that splintered my mind: Adam. I had let him have me, I thought as I was brushing my teeth. Most likely, I had cured his obsession. Equally likely, he had transferred it to me.

“Well done Sophie… truly well done,” I grumbled aloud, staring at myself in the mirror.

Miranda's family joined us for New Year's lunch. Luckily the numbers were still small, being just her mother and her younger brother, who spent the afternoon on the couch, hung over from the previous night.

By 7 p.m., I was already back at the parking lot for my night shift. I spent the evening watching Adam's car on CCTV. It was inert, like me, waiting for some sign of him. As I expected, he didn't call. In the days that followed, I saw him go to work, come home, and then leave again to retrieve one of his hookers. He ran like clockwork. He had evidently achieved his goal: seduce me in the New Year and lure me into his game. Perhaps that was all I had been: a challenge; an obsession to appease; a cure for the itch.

I thought of nothing else. Every night, when the doorbell rang, I prayed that it would be him. Of course, it was always Ben and Ester, to whom I had said nothing.

Two weeks later, on a Wednesday night around 9 p.m., I was sitting on the step outside the office door. I had been observing his habitual movements – Monday, Wednesday, Friday. He would have to walk past me to reach his car. I wasn't even planning to talk to him, I just wanted to know whether he had the nerve to say hello.

At nine forty-five, I saw him leave his building and head towards the lot.

My heart was racing and I could hardly breathe. Halfway across the stretch, he saw me and looked away. Without so much as a glance, he strolled by and opened the car door. I wished that I had the courage to stand my ground and wait for him to return with his prostitute, but it was humiliating. I decided to retreat to my bedroom. For the sake of my pride, I switched off the surveillance monitor. I did not want to see his re-entry, nor did I want to stay in that room any more. His presence still lingered there.

I grabbed my jacket and hurried outside to complete some aimless walking – headphones blaring.

I arrived at the corner and turned right onto Broadway, then onto Bond Street. I was thinking only of the movement, following the green lights of New York, shrouded in deafening rock music. On the final note of Thom Yorke's
Hearing Damage
, I stopped and found myself outside the bar where Steven's brother worked. I took this as a sign and spontaneously went inside. I settled on a bar stool and a cocktail soon followed.

“I'm really sorry Bob, I came out without my purse. I wasn't trying to scrounge, I just wanted to say hello,” I said.

“Don't worry about it, it's my treat,” he said with a curious expression.

“I haven't seen your brother for a while,” I said.

“You haven't heard? He's living with the guy that he met when you both came in last month.”

“You're kidding!” I gasped. “I've left him a thousand messages but he never got back to me.”

“Figures… ever since he moved into this new place he hasn't been in touch with anyone, not even our mom.”

Just as I thought – a slave to love.

I sipped on the drink, without much to say. I had come outside to clear my mind and had not anticipated conversation.

“What's new with you anyway?” he asked, spinning the cocktail shaker.

“Nothing much,” I slurped the last of my drink through the straw. He laughed and poured the surplus mix into my glass.

“There you go, another gift from the house.”

I raised my eyes to look at him. “Thanks, but I don't want to take advantage. Let me know how much I owe you.”

“Nothing Sophie, really… don't worry about it. Just stay and talk to me.” He went to serve a young couple and came straight back.

“Steven told me you were living in Nevada until recently.”

My shoulders sank under the reminder.

“Tender subject?”

“Correct.”

“In that case, the topic is over to you.”

The rock and the hard place, I thought.

“So, do you like your work?” I asked.

“Good retaliation,” he remarked. “But yeah, I like it.”

“Bob,” the waitress squealed in my ear, causing me to jump out of my skin. “Two Manhattans, a Martini and two Cosmopolitans – table eight.”

He quickly resumed his bartending acrobatics and the drinks were done in less than two minutes.

“How did you end up here tonight anyway?”

I sighed and sipped on the leftover cocktail, thoughtfully.

“Oh… I get it. There's a guy, right?” he said.

“Kind of.”

“Let's see if I can guess. There's a man that you like, but he has some kind of commitment problem?”

I smiled. “Got it in one.”

“It's always the same. Hear it from an expert – if he has a problem with commitment, then it's time to let him go. A rule of thumb: he's either in or he's out.”

“A rule of thumb? What are you? Justin Long in
He's Just Not That Into You
?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's a rule Sophie, trust me. A man is either in or out and nothing will change his mind. Since when has this been going on?”

“Since never,” I replied.

“It's a lost cause.”

“Yeah, I think I'm getting that now,” I replied dimly, dumping my elbow onto the bar to prop up my face.

“Listen… take it from somebody who used to freak out at first scent of commitment. You can tell from the first date. But when I met Melanie I knew it was different, right from the start. From the first time I kissed her I knew she was the one.”

“How long have you been together?” I asked curiously.

“Three months.”

I laughed. “Wait, three months and you're seriously telling me that this is it… forever?”

“Absolutely. I asked her to marry me”.

“Damn, after three months?”

“Exactly. She's the one.”

‘The one', I thought. I had said that about every single one of my ex-boyfriends. I was gravely mistaken.

I ended up staying until closing time, telling him about my misadventures with the ‘bloodsucking parasite' – his new nickname. He agreed that my post-orgasmic muttering had sent the wrong message and that was why he bolted. But, given his hooker habits, it was probably for the best. Bob kindly gave me a lift back to the parking lot.

Before I got out of the car, he rolled a joint, which I hesitantly shared. Apparently I wasn't supposed to mix it with antidepressants. But then I wasn't really supposed to drink either, so how bad could it be? At worst I would crash out and get a peaceful night's sleep.

“How did you meet Melanie?” I asked after the third drag.

He laughed. “She used to come in every Wednesday for a cocktail with her friend after work, and let me tell you, she was a pain in my ass. Uptight, you know? She'd order the same drink every week and find something wrong with it every time. In the end I started to get this idea—”

“What?”

“Well – I thought that maybe I could loosen her up a bit.”

Typical, I thought. I took another pensive drag. “What happened then?”

“One night, her friend had pulled this guy and left her alone at the bar. We got talking and it turned out she had a great sense of humor. She thought I was funny.” He took the joint from between my fingers and reclined the car seat. “She was telling me about a summer that she went to Kenya and it was the exact same time that I was there. We were even staying in the same hotel.”

“No way. Did you remember her?” I asked, taking back the joint.

“I didn't, but she did. She overheard me mention the name of the bar I worked at, and since she got back she'd been coming in with her friend on the off chance that I would finally recognize her.”

“But you didn't, instead—”

“No, I didn't. But I did after that night, and we've been together ever since.”

I blew a trail of smoke out of the window and cleared my throat. “Doesn't that kind of disprove your ‘nothing will change his mind' theory?”

“Not at all – I was in from the word ‘go'.”

“I don't think so. You hadn't noticed her or thought about it until that night. It was she who knew that you were the one and convinced you.”

He thought about this for a moment. “I hadn't really looked at it like that before. Maybe you're right. So you're saying there might be some chance with the bloodsucking parasite?”

“I don't think so. I think he's satisfied now. What he really wants is a hetaera.”

“Hetaera?” he asked, confused. “What's that?”

“In Ancient Greece, hetaerae were high class courtesans. They were cultured and sophisticated… the ideal company for men at banquets.”

Bob adjusted the rear view mirror and suddenly became serious. “Sophie, listen, I don't want to alarm you but ever since we left the bar I've had this feeling, like we were being followed. And just after we got here, someone pulled up behind us but they never got out. Look in the mirror – do you recognize that car?”

I tilted my head and saw the reflection. “Fuck,” I muttered, filling my lungs with three quick drags.

“It's him?” he asked

“It's him.” I stared, seized by panic.

“You want me to walk you to the door?”

I shook my head. “I'd better go, Bob. Thanks for the lift.”

I returned the joint and got out of the car, a little dazed and confused. “Say hello to your brother and tell him to call me, at least for the ceremony.”

“I will,” he answered. “Anyway, Sophie, I'll wait until you're inside.”

“It's alright Bob, if he's here he'll want to talk.”

I started laughing. “Or get laid,” I whispered, excited.

With an incredulous look, he leaned over the passenger seat.

“Pass me your cell phone Sophie.”

I looked at him, puzzled. “Give it to me! I'll save my number. I want you to text me as soon as you're inside. If I haven't heard from you within the hour, I'll come back.” I gave it to him and he typed his number. He shook his head at my visible excitement and smiled. “I'll see you soon. Send my love to the parasite.”

“See you.”

As soon as Bob drove away, I turned around to find Adam stepping out of his car. After four cocktails, the marijuana and the swell of emotion, I was struggling to keep my balance – in all senses of the word. I moved steadily towards the door and leaned against the railing, trying to look casual.

“Hi Sophie, I was waiting for you.”

You wait no more, I thought.

“Were you following me?” I asked, watching him closely.

He put his hands in his jacket pockets, looking troubled. Sophie Lether – always able to silence a room, I thought. I spoke again. “I get that you don't want commitment, but I never asked you for anything like that.”

He nodded and lowered his eyes.

“I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but right now I'm not looking to be tied down either.”

Tied up maybe, I thought.