Philadelphia Noir - Carlin Romano [38]
“I love it.” Beth didn’t know if this was true. I am trying new things.
Alex rummaged through a suitcase in the corner. He was slender but broad-shouldered and she noticed he wore no socks under his loafers. The wall next to him was covered with masks she assumed were African, and the other walls had paintings—abstract, with a gray, white, and red palette, one of them hanging cockeyed as if posted hastily and never fixed.
“Aha!” He turned around, wielding a dark brown bottle. “You’ll like this. It’s supposed to have,” he squinted at the label, “notes of honey. ” He handed her a glass and their eyes met again. Beth couldn’t decide if they were blue, gray, or green.
Chloe reappeared in a red dress and high-heeled black shoes. Her hair was drying to a lighter blond.
“That’s a good dress,” Alex said when Chloe spun in a catwalk turn. Beth saw it was backless and still had a price tag on it.
“A toast to our new friend,” he indicated Beth. “Our friend …”
“Beth,” she said.
“To Beth, a fellow underwater traveler.”
The drink was sweet and went down easily.
“Beth,” Chloe suddenly said. “What’s your shoe size?”
“Seven. Why?”
Chloe left the room and came back carrying a shoe box. “I got these last summer.”
Beth pulled out a pair of white high-heeled Manolo Blahniks and gasped.
“They’re yours,” Chloe said. “No worries.”
“I couldn’t,” Beth objected.
“Obviously I never wear them, so they’re of more use to you.”
Elegantly shod, Beth felt ready to dance but opted to lounge, given the steady refills Alex provided. After the port he dug into the rest of his collection, presenting a Calvados from Normandy, a Scotch from Scotland, and more. Beth envied the jet-setting pair. She loved traveling but hadn’t taken any trips lately. She had little time off from her desk job at a plastic surgeon’s office near the square, and besides, she was saving money. There were debts to pay from years ago, the upshot of ill-advised exotic vacations with boyfriends and splurges on clothing. She knew she hadn’t been herself during these periods of excess, bursts of exuberance followed closely by profound regret or worse, but credit card companies didn’t want excuses. They wanted their money back, with interest.
But she didn’t worry about debt or anything else just then. Hours blurred into each other and the three of them got silly. They played several rounds of “Would you rather …” with Alex supplying the most unappealing choices: Would you rather clean a monkey cage or a chicken cage? Go blind and lose the use of both arms or just lose the use of your legs? Shoplift from a store or steal from a very wealthy friend who’d never miss the item in question?
Finally, he asked a straight question when Chloe left the room. Eyeing Beth and crawling over the Persian rug, he kneeled in front of her, placing both hands on her knees and lowering his voice to a whisper: “Would you rather kiss me now or kiss me later?”
“Now,” she whispered back, not certain whether Alex’s discretion was merely that or part of a deception, and amazed either way by what happened. The kiss was brief, but warmer and more promising than any she’d had in a long time.
It was almost six a.m. when Alex accompanied Beth outside to wait for a cab. Bands of pink light appeared in the sky in the east. Beth shivered.
“Here,” he said, placing his jacket over her shoulders. It felt warm and smelled like Earl Grey tea. She closed her eyes and inhaled. They kissed.
“Let me get your number,” he said, reaching around her waist to get to the phone in the inner pocket of his jacket.
A cab finally appeared.
“Have a nice morning, beautiful,” Alex said. “I’ll be in touch.”
But he wasn’t, not later that week or in September, and Beth felt too awkward to call again after leaving two messages. She slogged through the humid days, working and taking lunch breaks in Rittenhouse Square, often sitting on a bench near the little bronze statue of a goat with her old friend Leah, who reminded her there were plenty of guys out there when Beth whined about Alex.
“And these guys don’t have girlfriends,