Angie

 

 

Her companion had been planning something, but he wouldn’t give her the slightest hint as to what it could be. Butterflies had morphed into pterodactyls which were swooping madly in her gut. If he was with her, she knew he’d keep her safe from the insidious things who wanted to hurt her. Her heart on the other hand, wasn’t as safe.

Arlen entwined his fingers with hers and gave her a gentle tug. She followed without resisting. Arlen’s eyes danced with excitement and his happiness was hopelessly contagious.

Swinging the apartment door open, he led her into the hall and even held the door for her. Color her impressed. No man had ever done something so sweet for her. She’d grown up way too used to dating douchebags. She was a magnet to boys who wouldn’t even pay for her portion of a meal, so the small gestures were almost enough to make her misty eyed.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a wink.

Their footsteps echoed down the long hall. They made their way towards the stairwell. Arlen pushed the door open and held it as he waited for Angie to pass through. She couldn’t help feeling a bit giddy. And she was absolutely considering the tiny trip a date. He was into her if his past actions were any indication…and her feelings for him were growing by the hour.

Angie was falling hard and fast, yet it was different from anything she’d experienced before. It just felt right.

She didn’t ask where he was taking her again. She was okay with letting him have the moment.

Arlen followed her into the stairwell and slipped in front of her. He mounted the steps, taking them two at a time. She scrambled after him with unsure footing as he tugged her along. His legs were so much longer than hers that she had a hard time keeping up with his pace.

Halfway up, she came down wrong and her foot slipped off the step. Arlen caught her with her face mere inches from destruction.

“Are you okay?” he asked, helping her back upright.

She nodded, shocked into silence by his speed.

“I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that I need to slow down with you.”

She got the distinct impression he was talking about more than just running up the stairs, though he didn’t elaborate further.

He swung the door open and ushered her out onto the rooftop. Angie froze when her eyes landed on the surprise he had waiting.

A small two-person table was set with a picnic basket waiting to be explored. Her lips parted as her jaw slackened and she swung around to look at most incredible man she’d ever met.

“You did all of this?” she squeaked.

He nodded. “Dinner isn’t even the best part. I thought you might appreciate the view.” Arlen tipped his chin towards the ledge of the building.

Angie was hesitant, despite wanting to see it. She was afraid of height and even more afraid of admitting it to Arlen. He seemed so fearless and unshakable and she was afraid of everything, even her own shadow.

“Do you not like it?” he asked. His expression was unreadable but she was sure she’d witnessed a small glimmer of disappointment before he slipped his stoic mask back into place.

“Yes!” she rushed out. “It’s just…it’s wonderful,” Angie corrected herself before she could confess to her phobia and shit on all his hard work and efforts.

Angie shuffled forward, taking tiny steps as she went. Nearly ten feet from the table, she saw the view he had mentioned and she stopped.

His building was tall enough that it had an unobstructed view of the river and Algiers Point. The cityscape shimmered with lights from homes and businesses. It really was a city that never slept. The breeze carried the earthy scent of the muddy Mississippi River and the coming rain.

It wouldn’t be long before the skies opened, but she prayed it was long enough for them to enjoy their evening.

“Woah.” She sighed, awed by the stunning view.

“So, you like it then?” He sounded hopeful as he stepped up next to her.

Arlen straightened, looking regal and ethereal as his violet locks caught the light just right. He was a magnificent specimen of a man and Angie found herself studying his features as if she’d never seen him before.

The corner of his mouth upturned slightly; he’d caught her gawking like a prepubescent girl with her first crush. Angie looked away quickly, hoping he didn’t think she was a creeper. Her cheeks heated with the rising blush. Thank God it was dark out.

“Shall we?” he asked with an outstretched hand.

She tentatively took his proffered palm and was escorted to her seat next to the ledge. She was hesitant at first, but the view worked miracles to calm her nerves. Arlen scooted her chair in like a gentleman before crossing to the table by the door where several courses were prepared and waiting. Scooping up two plates, he turned and strode towards her. Arlen placed a beautiful, green salad in front of her before moving around to take his own seat.

Angie was used to knit picking the subtleties and layers within a dish. She’d been a chef for years and a connoisseur of food since she was old enough to know what she liked. It was difficult for her to hide how impressed she was once she tasted it. Fresh, crisp greens were countered by the rich ginger dressing. Shredded cabbage, avocado, and parmesan cheese rounded it out and despite its simplicity, it was bursting with flavor.

“Did you make this?” she asked. If he had made everything himself, it was clear that he had skills that could rival her own.

He snorted, shaking his head. “Nope, not a chance. This is the work of Commander’s Palace. I do, however, make one mean ham and cheese omelet,” he said with a wink.

Arlen poured them each a glass of wine before digging into his plate. The pair ate in silence, admiring the food and the ambiance of the city while thunder roared in the distance.

The entrée consisted of a perfectly seared filet mignon with smoked onions and smashed potatoes. By the time Angie had finished that off, she was very nearly bursting at her seams.

“Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything there is to know.” The corner of Arlen’s mouth lifted slightly, betraying his amusement.

It was a question she’d never really been asked before, at least not by a man. Maya was the only person in the world who knew her deepest and darkest secrets, and Angie knew Maya would never betray her confidence.

“What do you want to know? My favorite color is purple and my favorite food is pizza with the works and extra cheese. I am definitely not a morning person and you’ve already met Maya.”

He chuckled and the sound was magical, one she’d never grow tired of. “What’s your family like? Where did you grow up?”

Angie could feel her blood pressure rising as he pressed her for information too close to home. She was on the fence about whether or not she could trust Arlen with her baggage yet.

“Born and raised in Lafayette, actually. I moved to New Orleans when I decided to go to school.”

“And your parents? I haven’t heard any mention of them.”

His question was innocent enough, and for the life of her, Angie couldn’t riddle out the reasons why she decided to open up to him and let him in. Letting people in caused pain. They never lived up to her expectations and always left a permanent mark on her life. People moved on, but she never did. However, he felt different.

“My dad split when I was two. Domestic life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, I guess. My mother, well, she’d an entirely different story. Barb does what she wants, when she wants. And aside from the occasional drunken call, she doesn’t remember or care much that I exist.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh, it is. I promise. Husband number five is spending his retirement with my mother, living in the lap of luxury. Don’t get me wrong. Jerry is a great guy, but he’s not the warm and cuddly type.”

Arlen’s brows furrowed and she could see the sympathy in his eyes. She didn’t want pity, especially not from him.

“I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through that. It makes for a very lonely life.”

“Spoken as if you know exactly what I’m talking about. What about you? What’s your story?” she asked.

Angie could see Arlen shut down. She assumed he wasn’t ready to share that part of himself with her yet. He sat up straighter, coughed, and looked out towards the river.

“It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like our families might have had more in common than not,” Angie said quietly, almost too low for hearing…almost.

There was a spark of passion in his eyes and she could tell he was in the moment and throwing caution to the wind, even if it was just to share something small with her.

“My mother was a great woman, loving and kind. Her downfall was loving my father.”

She took a sip of her wine, it was sweet and crisp like the night air. Angie was trying to work up enough courage to ask more about him, though there was something about him that made her nervous to ask. He exuded an air of power which made him near unapproachable. She thought it could have something to do with his eyes. They were such an unusual color and had an intensity that couldn’t be rivaled. She was staring again and quickly looked away, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry about your mom. The way you speak about her, I can tell she was a wonderful person and I’m sure she’d be so proud of you.”

He snorted, giving a devilish and regret filled grin. “No, she really wouldn’t. She’d hate me if she were still here and she’d be right to. I’ve done things…bad things and hurt good people.”

Angie didn’t know what more to say to him, yet she knew prying further into the secrets that surrounded his life wouldn’t end well. Especially when their tentative friendship was on unsteady ground. She ignored the tiny voice whispering for more between them. It clearly was crazy.

Angie’s own mother was a functioning alcoholic who was too wrapped up in her own life to notice what was going on in Angie’s. She was on her fifth husband in the last fifteen years and with each new man, her number of daily glasses of wine increased.

While her mother was a beautiful woman, she got bored easily. She’d find a well-to-do man and have a whirlwind romance and then after few years she’d leave with enough money to keep her comfortable until she found the next one. Needless to say, Angie had quit forming attachments to her stepfathers. What was the point? None of them stuck around very long. The current husband had apartments all over the United States and timeshare villas in twelve different countries.

With so much travelling to do, Barbara had disappeared from Angie’s life a few weeks before the Cancun wedding. Truthfully, her mom had checked out when her dad had left. 

She decided to steer the conversation back to safety.

“How old are you?”

He watched her speculatively for a moment before answering, “Ninety-four, by your standards.”

“My standards?” She could hardly believe him. He didn’t look a day over twenty-six, twenty-eight tops.

“Time moves differently between the planes. A year in your world might only be a week in another. By this worlds sense of time, I would be nearing one hundred. I was born in 1924, that’s the only frame of reference I have. We don’t celebrate birthdays or keep track after reaching maturity. We age so slowly it’d be pointless.”

Angie couldn’t imagine having a life as long as his. He didn’t have to worry about his impending death. Angie was all too familiar with how easily she could be snuffed out and the years were short. She’d be nothing more than a blip on his radar in the grand scheme of things.

Sensing it was the end of their conversation, Angie ate silently and Arlen did the same. There was enough food before her that she’d never be able to eat all of it. However, she was determined to try everything offered. Angie sat back and pushed her plate away, looking out at the breathtaking view. It was a city she’d loved from the very beginning and she knew she’d never leave, not really.

Arlen got up from the table and stalked back to the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he slipped inside.

She followed him up from the table and turned to look at the city.

Thunder roared in the distance, though much closer than before. It felt like the storm preparing to rage within her. She hated that she’d been ruined before she could ever meet a man like Arlen. Like the donkey and the carrot, she was chasing something out of her reach. She sighed deeply and turned back around. Arlen was standing there with a covered dish. Removing the dome lid with a dramatic flourish, he revealed the dessert underneath.

Strawberry Shortcake.

When Arlen placed a dish for two down, she realized just how much room she had left. There’s always room for dessert.

He didn’t dig in right away, but sat back and watched Angie’s every move. Instead of putting her on edge, it gave her a small measure of comfort. He cared about her opinions, her thoughts and likes had weight to them which she’d never experienced before. They were things he didn’t have to say out loud; Arlen showed her with his actions as he looked after her and waited patiently while she struggled to come to grips with everything she’d been through.

The rich and slightly sweet dish was the perfect end to the evening.

For the first time in many years, Angie felt the weakening of the walls within her. She’d built a fortress around her soul to protect her from becoming like her mother, but witnessing his sorrow when she’d asked about his family, made her realize that she hadn’t been really living before. She’d been existing.

What Arlen offered was so much more than simply getting by everyday, it was thriving. He was the spice to her bland life and had the promise of shaking things up even more than they already had. It was exactly what she needed. She just had to have the courage to let him in and see the real her. There was something about the strange man that made her want to let loose around him. She didn’t feel the need to hide from him and that held the potential to be very dangerous.