Chapter Two
Adelaide
Ten months later.
The kitchen light turns on at two am, I shouldn't be awake, but I am. I shouldn't have the website open that I do, but I do. Quickly I tab out of the website before my roommate, Kara snoops over my shoulder. “Hey, what are you doing up?”
“Been video chatting and I'm exhausted.” Kara leans her chest over the back of the sofa, smashing down on me. “What are you doing up?”
“Can't sleep.”
“Dreaming about daddy again?” She teases and turns to go in the kitchen. “Want a snack?”
“No thanks and no I’m not thinking about him again.” I open a new browser window and pretend I’m checking my own social media account. She was right. I was searching, Sebastian Banuellos. Again.
Ever since he came on to me that day by the pool and we did that thing that I said I wouldn't do unless I really cared about a guy, well I haven't been able to get him and his dick out of my thoughts.
Kara’s busy making a wrap of some kind and gives me some space. It’s a good thing too. If she'd snatched my laptop up, she’d have proved her point and found his profile page open. I feel like a stalker, but I just can’t stop searching his name every where on the internet.
“Hey, did you know you can look up properties with the county and find out all kinds of home information. Like price, square footage . . .”
“. . . and number of bedrooms,” Kara interrupts. Now she hops over and plops herself down on the sofa. “Whose house you looking up?” She makes a grab for my laptop, but I keep it secure.
“No one special.” Kara’s pretty good about reading me. I throw her a lie to stall her conclusions. “My dad's. What county did you grow up in? I'll find your house.”
The microwave dings. Her wrap is done. “No thanks,” she says, stepping over to retrieve her food. “You know I don't care if you obsess over him. It's pointless, but I don't care.”
“Whatever,” I call to her as she disappears down the hall and turns into her room. She doesn’t understand my feelings. How could she? Kara’s not a virgin. She lost that in high school. She doesn’t love a forbidden man. But she is right. I need to stop daydreaming about a Sebastian. He’s six hours away, the same age as my father, and has probably moved on to another woman his age. It’s pointless. He’s over me. I mean nothing to him. I should get on with it and find another guy.
The next evening Kara gives me a chance to push Sebastian out of my thoughts for good. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I check my lipstick in the visor mirror before stepping out of the Kara’s car. “Why did I let you talk me into coming to this mixer?”
“You’ll love it. Retro speed dating is the hottest new way to meet a guy.” Kara leads the way up to the club while logging into an app on her phone. “I’ll check in for us. I feel lucky tonight.”
“You don’t actually expect either of us to find a a decent guy here?” Kara’s a wild card with dates and I’m hopelessly inexperienced. The evening’s outcome is suspect before we even get in the line for the door.
“Loosen up, Addie. Enjoy yourself. For once.” She playfully shakes me by the shoulders, adding, “And stop looking so damn gorgeous.” In a vain attempt to distract me, she flips my hair forward, mussing it around my face.
“Real mature.” I stop at the next car window and smooth the tousled locks back into place. She knows I hate that. Why am I even here? I don’t want to talk to strange guys all night. I take one last big breath, exhale, and catch up to Kara who has cut in at the front of the line.
“ID,” the bouncer grunts. He winks at Kara, flashes an ultra violet light over our driver’s licenses, stamps our wrists with an under twenty-one mark, and waves us through. “You know the way.”
“I thought you said you were trying something new?” I knew it. She’s holding back. “How many times have you done this?”
“Does it matter?” Kara loops her arm around mine and pulls us through the crowd. She knows exactly where to go and we check into the party room pretty easy.
My first impression upon scanning the mixer of speed daters isn’t impressive. The men and women are kept separate by a row of tables and bar stools. One of which I’d soon be sitting at, hating myself for smiling like I care. It amazes me that in the sea of misfits, couples will find something in common, and some will even hookup.
The men all pretty much fit into one of three categories; I’m too good to be here, but I come here every week, assholes types, or dateable, decent looking, but obvious first timers, and finally, definitely taking you home to my mother’s basement creeps.
“You’re Lindsay tonight.” Kara slaps a name tag on me and one that says Helen on her own chest.
“Helen?”
“It was my mother’s name.” She throws me a “what do you want from me” look. “Plus Helen Hunt is pretty sexy.”
“I guess. Her and Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets is a pretty romantic story.”
“That movie about the old dude? You would know that.” She grabs us a couple of sodas and turns to scope out her prospects as if she hadn’t just insulted me.
“What does that mean? I’m not obsessed with older men. I liked the movie. That’s all.” I try to explain myself, but she’s already moved on, locking her gaze with a broad shouldered man across the room. “Their love was fate—and spontaneous. And I give up.” She’s right. I like complications in a relationship. Even fictitious ones. Before the mixer begins, I realize none of the men in the room are my Jack Nicholson. In my head, I’m sitting with my laptop, searching Sebastian’s name again.
My favorite photo of him is one taken at a socialite’s debut. She’s center stage and Sebastian is three people down on the right, but he commands the photo. In that image I see the man who looked down at me, just before I took his cock in my mouth. I shudder and turn up a smile, thinking about sucking him off again.
Stop it! I shake off my desire in time to hear the announcement for the female participants to take their places. My assigned barstool is on the opposite end of the row as Kara’s. I’m clearly on my own.
“Hi,” I wave to a busty, but friendly looking brunette next to me. “It’s my first time here.”
“We all have a first night.” She tosses her hair back over her shoulder. “Couple of tips. Don’t be nervous and don’t tell the truth.”
From the front of a room, the organizer rings a bell and directs the men to take their seats. I notice the broad shouldered man sits down in front of Kara. So much for spontaneous fate.
Glancing up to the man sitting down in front of me, I catch him staring down the cleavage of the busty brunette next to me. All through my introduction I see on his face that he wished he’d started one seat over. I give up, stopping mid-sentence, and letting him talk about himself for the remainder of the time.
Four boring back stories and uninteresting personalities later, I stand and stretch. Catching eye contact with Kara, I do my best to shred her soul with an evil stare. It’s no use. The buzzer sounds and the next man steps up across from me.
“Hi, I’m Wallace,” the fifth date says. He waits for me to sit back down, then sits himself. His demeanor is full of hope and energy. A quality I should be attracted to, but I’m not. “What are you looking for in a partner?” he asks.
Enough already. I bend my elbow and rest my chin on my palm. “Wallace, right?” I check his name tag, cause honestly I have no interest in learning his name. “Can you stop talking?”
“We’re supposed to get to know each other.” He gives me this dumbfounded look and it flips a switch in my brain.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your dating goals.” I make the quotation gesture, then keep going with my info dump. “I’m not looking for the one. I’ve already found him and I blew it. I thought moving six hours away would do the trick, but did it? No. I can’t get him out of my head. And that scares the hell out of me. Yes. I like older men. Yes. I want to see where it goes. No. I don’t care if my dad finds out. I hope he does.”
“We’re not supposed to talk about exes,” Wallace looks around for an organizer or any other person of importance. “The rules state.”
“Screw the rules. You asked me a question. I’m giving you an answer.” I perk up, leaning forward and tapping on the table. Now that I’ve gotten started, I’m practically up out of my seat, bending over to tell Wallace all about Sebastian. “He came on to me. I didn’t provoke him. Sure I was in a bikini, but I was sunbathing. In my own back yard. Am I not allowed to dress how I want on my property? And he’s older. Did I say that? He’s old enough to be my dad, but I don’t care. I still want him.”
“That’s nice—but we have three minutes.” Wallace points at his wrist, even though he has no watch on. “I—” He opens his mouth to interject something, anything to change the topic. Then, like the good man Wallace obviously is, he softens. “Why was the older man at your house?”
“That’s the odd thing. He had papers for my dad and my dad was at work. Why didn’t he take them there? I’ve known Sebastian for years. He never came to the house when my dad wasn’t there. It’s like he wanted something to happen. Don’t you think? I know I did. I crushed over him for years before, but he was my dad’s friend. He started it. He kissed me. In the pool and I let him Was that so wrong?”
“What else did you do?” the brunette asks.
I broke eye contact with Wallace and turned to her. Both the woman and the man across from her are wide-eyed staring over in anticipation to hear more juicy details of my affair.
“I kissed him back. That’s all. Well—maybe a little more than an innocent kiss happened. But we didn’t have sex. Then I moved here. Six hours away. I’ll probably never see him again. If I do it’s cause he’s my dad’s friend. I’ll never know if he really cares—about—me,” I say, holding back tears. “The last thing I said was I hate you.”
“Switch!” the organizer calls out. Time’s up and the male daters are supposed to make their way to the next female participants. Which means moving down one seat.
Wallace stands and gently squeezes my hand. “I’m right here listening, if you want to keep working through your feelings.”
“Do us all a favor.” The woman to my right bitches. “Shut up and go out to the bar for a drink.”
“Is that possible?” I jump my gaze back and forth between Wallace and the next guy waiting to sit down in front of me. “Can I do that?”
“You’re not chained to the chair.” The woman takes Wallace’s hand and pulls him down to gain his attention. “Leave already.”
The man next in line shrugs. “I’m good. It’s only six minutes.”
I stand, the organizer clears his throat, but I push away from the table and leave the party room anyway. I make my way to a secluded end of the bar and sit down.
“Participants aren’t supposed to order out here,” the bartender says with a wink. “Just between us.” He produces a pair of scissors from his apron, turns my wrist, and snips the restrictive wristband clear. “I didn’t see anything.”
“Me either.” I smile. Behind Wallace, the bartender’s is the most genuine face I see that evening. “Just a soda.” I flip my palm down and show him my under twenty-one stamp.
“Coming right up.” He makes the drink, adds an extra cherry, and asks, “Why’d you come?”
“Does it matter? All that in there. It’s not for me.”
“Dragged in by a friend,” he confidently says. I pay, he nods a thank you to the tip, and sinks it into the nearby snifter glass.
He’s right on the money. If it hadn’t been for Kara I’d be at home, crying into my pillow over a man who doesn’t remember I exist. I thought I was done spewing out my feelings, but after another sip, I lay into the bartender.
“I just need to move forward.” I cross my legs at the ankles and lean on the bar, convincing myself of my own words. “The guys back there aren’t that bad. I should’ve given one or two of them a chance.” I take another drink. “But I can’t get him out of my head.” I say, talking more to myself than the nearby bartender. “I just don’t understand what he’s doing to me. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Not fair,” Kara says, bursting out of the party room and sitting down on the barstool next to me. “Somehow you’re always the talk of every room. Even after you leave.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Kara holds out her wrist, the bartender cuts her wristband off, and sets down a glass of soda. “You never mean it, but dammit it, Adelaide this is my score. Two of my hunks asked about you.”
“I said I was sorry.”
The door to the party room opens up behind us. The participants pour out like ants marching out of an anthill. Two by two they rip off wristbands and head to the door. True love or insta-lust is written all over their faces. “We can go back in. I’ll behave.” I nudge Kara, shoulder to shoulder.
“Nah, I’m good right here.” Kara winks at the bartender and runs her finger around the rim of her glass. Flirting is everything to her. She breathes to flirt with good looking men. A talent I’m not interested in cultivating.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’m ready to call it a night.” Kara ignores my request and keeps scanning the room for her Mr. Available. I turn off the barstool to hint that I’m serious. Guess I can call a driver to come pick me up.
It’s then that I open my phone and see a text on the screen. It’s from my dad and simply reads. “Call me at this number.”
Wonder what that’s about? I let the message distract me and the crowd of the bar fades into the background. Could dad be sick? He just had his heart check up. But why would he send me a text this late at night? That’s not dad’s cell or his home number. What happened to his phone?
A man taps me on the shoulder. It’s Wallace. “Are you alright? You look pale.” He rambles on over worrying about me after I left. I think he wants to exchange numbers, but I only half hear what he’s saying. Only minutes has elapsed and I’m consumed with answering the message from my dad. “I need to make a phone call.”
The main part of the bar is too loud and the exit door is blocked by the organizer, pressuring participants to sign up for next weeks’s event. All I want is a quiet place. I round the corner to the back hall leading to the bathrooms. It’s a small corridor and I run right into the bitch from my right. “Oh, hi. Is it locked?”
“The ladies room is. Not sure about the men’s.” She crosses her arms, securing herself on the wall next in line.
Are you really going to wait out here? I rock on my heels, deciding what to do. Do you want to call your dad in front of her? Nope. “Do you mind?” I push past her, and check the men’s room door. It’s unlocked. “Slut,” I hear, as I shut and lock the door behind me.
The tight room could’ve passed for a women’s restroom if it wasn’t for the urinal on the wall. And the smell. It wasn’t stinky like one would expect, just overpowering from a citrus air freshener working double time.
I’m not venturing to go near the fixtures, so I pull my phone out from my spot with my back against the door. First I memorize the number in the text, then I dial it. It rings and a tired, but commanding voice answers, “Hello.”
“Um, hello. My name is Adelaide Cantrell and my dad left me a message to call him it at this number. Is he okay?”
“Addie. Yes. Sorry to worry you.” The man’s voice perks up and I imagine the caller sits up in bed. “Your dad had a fall. I used his phone to leave you the message. He’s asked me to call you, but I didn’t know exactly what to say. Still don’t.”
The more he talks. The more his voice sounds familiar. It can’t be him. “Sebastian?” I say almost in a whisper, but I must have said it out loud, cause he answers.
“Yes, Addie. I understand if you’re confused. I should have contacted you months ago. The way we left things was wrong.” He pauses. “Your dad’s wishes got in my way. My desires clouded my better judgement.”
What is he saying? Ten months pass with no word from him. I obsess over this man to have him contact me for the first time on my dad’s behalf. “I’m confused. Why did you call tonight?”
“This is difficult for me to say.” He takes a deep breath so hard that I can almost see his chest rise and fall even thought we are speaking on the phone. “Your dad asked me to take care of you. If something happened. Those are the papers I dropped off that day. I’m your guardian.”
“Has—has—something happened?” Tears form and stream down my cheeks. Sebastian’s face is gone, replaced with my dad’s. All the worst outcomes from dad falling run through my thoughts. “Is daddy?” I gasp unable to finish.
“No, no, darling!” Sebastian, says quickly. “He just fell, but he’s going to need surgery. Can you come home?”
“Oh, okay.” I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes. “I can’t leave tonight. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he says with a smooth confidence. “Save my number. And Addie, don’t worry about your dad. He has good doctors. He’s going to pull through just fine.”
The call ends. I turn, in a daze, and walk back to the bar. I pass Wallace, the bitchy woman, Kara, and the organizer at the door without stopping. I have no words. Only thoughts playing out in my head. I have to go home. He called. I’m going to see him again. I can make things right. I have a second chance.