CHAPTER FOUR
Atkins
I rarely screw up but when I do, I screw up royally. Kissing Georgie wasn't my brightest idea but it surely felt the most glorious. Still, it was a stupid thing to do. To add insult to the injury, Clyde caught us in a rather compromising situation. But guys have this unspoken code— you don't throw your bro under the bus. Even though Clyde saw me and Georgie lip-locking, I knew he wouldn't rat me out.
But it was a very different story with Georgie. The atmosphere between us had been very awkward after that kiss. It was all my fault. I couldn't help myself. She sat there, with wide, chocolate brown eyes and so damn kissable lips. So close yet so far away— yes I knew how cheesy this was. Those lips were going to be the death of me.
Let me get this straight— I didn't regret kissing her. But I regretted the tension it brought on our still fragile relationship. Which was why I was surprised when she still agreed to tour me around the city after that kiss. In fact I was on my way to picking her up in her apartment.
She was sitting on the front steps of the building, her chin resting on her hand. Her long hair cascaded down her back. It caught the beam of the sun and shone in the afternoon light. She waved her hand when she spotted my car. She bounded down the steps and into the passenger seat. Put her seatbelt on.
"Hi," she greeted me. She looked rather relaxed this afternoon which was a far cry from when we were at the firm yesterday. The unease in her eyes diminished significantly.
"Hey. You look good in that dress." And it was true. Her yellow floral dress suited her perfectly.
"Thanks!" She beamed, tucking her hair under her ear.
"Are you ready to show me your most favorite place in New York?"
"Yeah, about that. The thing is I kinda lied." Her eyes had the mischievous glint of a child about to confess to doing something naughty. "You see I have two favorite places."
"No problem, then. We'll be sure to visit those two places. So, where to?"
"First in our itinerary is the Marionette cafe."
I rarely go to cafes but here we were, in the Marionette cafe, with menus in our hands.
"This isn't the kind of place you expected, is it?"
"I honestly didn't know what to expect. And this place is really... homey." And it was the truth.
I scanned the vicinity of the place, noticed the colors of the walls. One side of the cafe's wall was a black brick while the other side was painted a pastel blue. Fairy lights were strung around the wide window frames. Framed quote posters were mounted on the wall. One poster said “YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, STRANGER”. My eyes roved back to her when I read the quote.
There were also framed pictures of iconic places around the world on the walls. One was an aerial view of the Statue of Liberty while another one was a wide-angled shot of Tokyo streets.
"Right?" she affirmed excitedly. "I really love being here. The cinnamon bun is really great and so is their latte."
"I only drink my coffee black," I said.
Her forehead creased and she said, "Are you one of those men who are too macho for anything but black coffee?" Her lips jutted up in a pout.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
"Don't pout your lips."
"Or what?" Her eyes narrowed in challenge.
"Or I'll bite it."
The playful glint in her eyes was gone. It was replaced with wariness and caution.
Shit. I didn't want to come on too strong. Where was my filter when I needed it?
"Sorry," I said in a quiet voice.
"Okay, um, so, what do you want to get?" her voice was small, embarrassed.
I wanted to punch myself in the nuts for yet another stupid thing to say. But what can I say? She brought out the brazen person in me. I wanted her. Badly. Would it hurt to be honest with that?
"I think I'm gonna try the latte after all. Contrary to what you think, I'm not too macho for latte." I tried to insert a joking tone in my voice to lighten up the mood. And it seemed to work because she said, "Glad to hear that. I promise you won't regret it."
We got her usual order of cinnamon bun and latte. She was right, the latte really did taste great. And the buns were warm and soft. We were silent for a few beats, happily munching on our food.
"You never told me why you liked this place a lot."
She took a long sip of her drink before answering. "Just like what you said, this places feels really homey. And the food is great. But the Marionette didn't become my favorite place until a few weeks ago." She paused for effect, making me want to ask what happened.
"Why? What happened a few weeks ago?"
"A guy proposed to his girlfriend here. He requested the staff to play a Smiths song on the speaker and then he knelt down and popped the question. I envied the girl. She was so lucky to have the guy. I could've been that girl too. I was so close until... I wasn't." She shrugged. "That's life, I guess. One moment you're up and then the next you're down and crawling."
A single tear fell down her cheek. She quickly wiped it but I noticed it.
"I guess what I really want to say is that gesture made me believe in love again. It's tough, believing in something and discovering it was all a lie. But maybe it wasn't a lie after all because I could see it in the couple's eyes. So now every time I come to this place I remember that day."
I took her small and delicate hand in mine, rubbed circles on the back of her hand with my thumb to comfort her.
"What happened, Georgie? Did you break up with your boyfriend?"
She shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "In a nutshell, yeah. I'm sorry I'm such a downer today. I'm usually a fun friend." Her attempt at a reassuring smile was feeble at best.
I wanted to know more but I didn't want to push her. My chest was suddenly tight with anger for the guy who hurt her. Whoever that bastard was, I was going to make him pay.
After we ate at the Marionette cafe, Georgie and I headed to the second place in her list of favorites. We were quiet in the car ride. I was mostly thinking about what she told me. I was dying to ask her a lot of questions but I didn't want to push it. She didn't owe me any explanation about her private life. Still, that didn't mean I didn't want to know.
We spent twenty minutes looking for parking space. After that Georgie dragged me down 7th Avenue, her hand gripping me on the wrist.
"Where are we going?" I asked as we passed the skyscrapers and dodged around the heavy road traffic.
"You'll see," was all her reply.
We reached the part of the 7th Avenue where it intersects with Broadway. Then I realized where we were. She turned to face me, her face beaming with excitement and pride.
"Here we are," she declared, her hand flourishing around.
"This is Times Square, isn't it?"
The skyscrapers loomed over us, the giant screens displaying different advertisements. By now the sun had already sunk down the horizon and it was dark. But the bright lights of Times Square kept the darkness at bay. The buildings' windows were bright with lights. We stood at the curb, the cluster of people walked past us. Another crush of people crossed from one side of the street to another. The light turned green and the cars moved on. The faint smell of tacos and hotdogs wafted from the nearby food trucks.
"Wow," I heard the awe in my voice.
"Close your eyes," she commanded excitedly.
"What? Why?" I asked, perplexed.
"Just do it," she said impatiently.
"Alright." I did as I was told.
"Now listen to the sounds around you."
A car honked. The tinkling bells signaled a new customer in gift shop near where we stood. Someone shouted "Hey!" Two people passed by, speaking a different language, probably French or Italian. Footsteps pounded the pavement. A street musician played a jazz tune, the notes dancing happily in the air.
"Do you hear it?"
"Hear what?"
"The city's voice! The sound of cars, urgent conversations of faceless strangers passing you by, the music the street musicians play. This place feels so alive, I feel so alive when I'm here. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
A deep chuckle escaped my lips, my breath fogging up the air around us.
She frowned, her forehead creasing. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. It's just... you. No one has ever told me that the hustle and bustle of a city is beautiful. People usually don't see it that way. They think it's all inconvenience."
"Well, they're wrong. And that must mean you haven't met a person like me."
"No, I haven't," I agreed. "You're one in a million."
Her lips curved up in a full-on grin. She had the most beautiful smile.
"So tell me, what makes this place so special?" I asked.
We continued walking around the Square. I didn't notice it at first but her arm was linked around mine as we walked. She didn't seem to notice it or paid no mind to it. Her brows were knitted in a small frown, like she was thinking hard about my question.
"It's really hard to explain. You know how when you really love something and words aren't enough to express your love for it? It's exactly like that."
"Yeah, I know just what you're saying, but at least you could try."
A small laugh escaped her lips. "Alright. You know Time's Square's other name? 'The Crossroads of the World'."
I nodded, signaling her to go on.
"Being here feels exactly like that. The skyscrapers and the lights remind you that the world is bigger than you think and you're just a small part of it. It makes me feel that there's so much more to life and the world than what I know now. There's just something about it that makes you want to widen your horizon and break away from what you know and explore the unknown. I remember the very first time I was here in Times Square, I was eight. I was with my parents but I wandered too far and got lost. Instead of crying in one corner I explored the place and found myself in a candy shop."
"That's it? What happened when you entered the candy shop?"
"Well, I did as any kid would do— I ogled at the sweets. The shop owner asked me if I was going to buy some. And I explained to him that I was lost and didn't have any money with me. But that didn't stop him from giving me a candy apple and he let me stay in his shop the whole day. Later that day my parents found me in there."
"I'm pretty sure they were worried sick about you."
"Yeah, they were. My mom tore up when they found me. And she gave me a very long lecture about not wandering all by myself."
"Wow. You have this tendency to get lost and that means I have this difficult responsibility of ensuring that you don't wander too far around the city or else I might lose you." My voice was light, teasing, as I said those words but I observed that her hand wrapped around mine. She squeezed it and said, "Don't worry, you won't lose me."
We stood there in her apartment building's steps, our faces partially illuminated by the lamp post across the street.
"I had a really great time today," I said, my voice low. "Thank you."
"No problem, I enjoyed today, too." A quick flash of sadness showed in her eyes but she quickly masked it with a smile. "So, I guess this is it. See you on Monday?"
"Yeah, see you on Monday."
We were quiet for a few beats. She didn't move to enter the building, I didn't move to get into my car either. We just stood there, the unspoken words hung in the air.
"Maybe I—"
"Atkins—"
We spoke at the same time.
My arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against me. Her hands flew to my chest. We crashed into each other. We fit together like we were meant for this. Our lips met in a fierce kiss, drinking in each other like there was no tomorrow. I grabbed a fistful of her silky soft hair, just enough for it not to be painful. A moan escaped her lips. It was a sweet, sweet sound. It made me hard like nothing else. Heated desire consumed me. I wasn't thinking straight. There was only one way this would end tonight.
But then she went rigid, stopped responding to my kiss and pushed me away. I watched as different emotions danced on her pretty face. Surprise, confusion, and then shame.
"I should go," she mumbled so quietly I wouldn't have heard it if she wasn't standing just a few inches in front of me. She punched in her code and opened the door. Her last words were, "Good bye, Atkins."
I adjusted my pants, walked to my car, opened it and drove away. She was the only thing I was thinking about as I drove home.