Trips in that car were awkward, but that particular trip beat those with lengths unheard of. Alexander didn't even find his BlackBerry to look at that one. We were in the back of the car, gazing out each our window.
Jazz opened my door and Alexander led me to the elevator.
I pushed the button and wrapped the shawl tighter around me.
The door opened with a ding, and Alexander punched the access code to his flat.
The ride was quiet.
"Sleep here tonight," Alexander said gently before the elevator reached the top floor.
I looked at him. "And what?" I asked. When would we meet again? Compared to so much else, we didn't meet all the time just because we knew one another. It was actually before we got to know each other we met all the time.
He looked at the doors which opened with a small pling. "Stay," he repeated.
I left the elevator and went down the hall. I probably should have packed some pajamas then. Before I reached the spare bedroom I turned and looked back at him.
"Okay," I acquiesced. "I'll stay here until tomorrow."
His eyebrows were raised. "Sleep tight, Christina," he said.
I smiled and went into the guest bedroom. I locked the door behind me and changed into my own underwear and considered what to do. I pulled my t-shirt on and unlocked the door, brushed my teeth â because he'd left a toothbrush and paste â before getting underneath the covers.
I had removed the decorations from my hair, and the jewelry was in their relating boxes.
The flat was almost quiet.
I couldn't hear Alexander. Maybe it was a bit much to lock the door, but there were certain things I couldn't let go of after that night I ended up in the ER.
I closed my eyes. Tomorrow would become interesting.
I was curled around the comforter. Curled into it like a caterpillar. I'd slept wonderfully, compared to the first night down at the hall with the conference rooms. This felt a bit more personal. And that even though nothing about this place screamed personality.
I reached the clutch from the night before and found my phone in it.
8.19.
I stretched beneath the covers, got out of bed and put on pants. I caught my reflection in the mirror and put my hair into a messy bun.
I sat down on the bed and donned my bra and socks. Cardigan? I put it on and left the room.
There was a faint smell of food, no bacon, but I couldn't quite define the smell.
I went, hesitantly, towards the living area.
Alexander was by the stove, doing something in a pan.
"Morning," I said.
He turned his head and looked at me. "Good morning," he said quietly and returned to what he was doing.
That man was difficult to say anything to.
I hesitated. Now what?
Awkward silence was something too, right?
"Tea or juice?" he asked.
"Uhm, juice?" I said.
He opened the enormous fridge in stainless steel and looked into it. "Orange or multi?"
"Multi," I said.
He grabbed a carton and put it on the island. He shut the fridge again.
I didn't know what to do about myself.
He flipped a pancake onto a plate and turned off the stove. It was a decent pile of pancakes. Not a pancake or three, a pile of pancakes.
He gently put the pancakes on the island and quickly did the table before pulling out one bar stool for me.
I sat down and pulled the chair to the table. Pancakes with syrup, sliced fruit and juice.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "It's a very comfortable bed."
He smiled and slid a pancake onto his plate.
His hair was wet.
I slid a pancake onto my plate and put to table spoons of fruit on top. I wasn't in the mood for syrup. I poured juice for myself. He was sipping coffee.
I had no idea why he wanted me to stay. Except, Jazz wouldn't have to drive me back for no reason.
"Can I invite you to lunch one day?" he asked.
I looked away from the pancake and at him. "And what?" I asked.
He held my gaze. "Get to know each other."
I smiled. "It requires you to open your mouth too, once in a while," I said light.
"I am aware of that, thank you," he snapped.
I reached for the juice. "When?" I asked.
"Tuesday?" he suggested.
"Okay," I acquiesced.
"In my office?" he asked.
"Take-away?" I guessed.
He nodded. "Of sorts."
I smiled. "Okay." I said.
He looked at his food. "Can I invite you to another event?" he asked.
"Which?" I asked.
He looked at me. "It's a varnishing day," he said. "I helped the artist. And I like the art he's creating."
"How helped?" I asked.
He scratched his chin. "He needed capital to open his atelier, and in the first floor he's exhibiting his paintings. His and others' work."
"Why would you do that?" I asked.
"He's a friend of mine," Alexander said. "That simple."
"When?"
"Wednesday," he said.
"When Wednesday?"
"Six," he said.
"I can do that," I said.
"I'll find clothes."
I shook my head no. "Not when you say it like that."
He looked at me. "I end up finding you an outfit no matter what."
"But if you say you will find clothes, it feels as if I don't have a choice." I said.
He glowered at me. "Fine, do you want me to find some clothes for your?"
"That would be most kind of you," I said. "But not too light colors?"
"White?" he asked.
"Okay, so I can, oddly enough, wear white, but not baby blue or yellow or that type of light colors."
He nodded. "I'd like to see you in white."
"Are we back at the incredibly inappropriate question?" I asked with raised eyebrows. It wasn't too early to ask him, now he for once talked to me.
"No," he said. "I've apologized."
"Have you asked before?"
He didn't answer.
"How many times have you asked like that before?" I asked.
He looked at me. "You don't want to know," he said.
"Actually, yeah," I said. "How many said yes, compared to the no's?"
"Not a lot," he said. "I'm usually pretty adept at reading who would want to say yes."
"A pity I declined?" I guessed.
He smiled. That was what most people would define like a normal smile. "Yes, a lot," he said. "I'll live with it."
I snorted. "Next time it can be done in a more subtle way."
"Like what? Invite on a date first?" he guessed. "It makes most believe there's more to it."
"Most?"
"Yes," he said. "Not all, but they are harder to spot, compared to those that'll just say yes."
I laughed.
He looked at his food. "It wasn't my intention to come across as only thinking about that one thing." He said quietly.
"According to a high school friend, men think about sex every seven seconds," I said.
He looked at me. "That might be a slight exaggeration."
"Hey, I never said it's the truth, I'm just saying I've heard it." I said.
"I don't think anyone thinks about sex that often," he said.
I shrugged. "It was only men who thought about it that often." I reminded him.
He shook his head. "Whatever."
My smile was wide. "Did you just say 'whatever'?"
He smiled. "I'm not an island." He said.
"No, not many are," I agreed.
He slid another pancake onto his plate. "Is there anything you prefer more than other things for lunch?" he asked.
"I prefer sandwiches and the like for lunch." Now he asked in such a direct manner.
"I assume I'll be able to find that." He said simply.
I looked at him. "What exactly is your specification when you buy clothes for me?" I asked.
He focused on his food. "I stated that you had blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin, like Nordic pale skin, and your size approximately. Why?" he asked.
"Because no one of the male sex has ever bought me clothes before." I said.
That got Alexander's attention. He looked at me.
I smiled. "It's mostly something I do with girlfriends."
He nodded. "I don't do it myself either." He said.
"Isn't that expensive?" I asked.
He looked at me again. "I earn enough money to be able to do it, so why waste my time looking when it isn't what matters the most to me?" he asked. "I've bought things which mean something, and those I pick out myself."
"What means something for you?" I asked.
He seemed to be trapped in a corner. The eyebrows cast his eyes in shadow. "Cecilia. I bought a pair of earrings for her," he grunted. "I chose them myself."
"Did she appreciate them?" I asked.
He nodded. "Until she broke up with me because I'm too controlling. Then she threw them at me."
"Isn't it... I don't know about your relationship," I said and stopped myself. We had boundaries.
He was still looking at me. "It's okay," he said.
I shook my head slightly. "How did you learn how to cook such good pancakes?"
"It's the only food I can cook." He said.
"Please repeat that," I said.
He looked at me. "You heard me the first time."
I nodded. Of course. "I probably have to go home soon." I said.
We finished eating, he got dressed, and I got dressed, and he walked me to the metro.
"Do you have all of your business on Manhattan?"
"Yes," he said. "The entire business, though I have a small branch in Newark, it's closer to the airport and therefore easier in regard to meetings and the like."
"Then why are you on Manhattan if it's easier to be in Newark?"
"Now I own the building," he said.
I smiled.
"Go, your train is approaching," he said and directed me down the stairs.
I didn't get the chance to say goodbye, but I'd see him Tuesday?