~ Eighteen ~
There was a protest march clogging S. Broad Street, just a block away from City Hall. Colt found a garage and ditched his car, so he would make his appointment at the Ritz Carlton on time. It was an appointment he didn’t necessarily care about, and for that reason, felt doubly obligated to at least look like he did care about it.
Alexa was waiting for him in the lounge, as planned. Sitting at one of the mahogany tables, she had turned slightly away from it, her long legs folded at the ankles. As he approached her, Colt smiled to himself at how unaware she was of the attention she was getting, from passers-by who noticed—as Colt always did—just how striking she was.
Today, she was wearing a scarlet pantsuit, with spiky black patent-leather heels that looked like they could double as lethal weapons. Completely occupied by whatever was on the face of her smartphone, Alexa didn’t register his presence until he was standing almost directly over her. When she spotted him, she stood and smiled.
Swinging her head in her habitual way, to get her long mane of dark hair over her shoulder and hanging down her back once again, she put her phone facedown on the table and hugged him. Her signature scent, Mon Guerlain, surrounded Colt when she pressed her cheek against his. He had once bought her a bottle of that perfume, pricey stuff that made her smell edible.
“Colton,” she said, her tone as excited as though he had happened upon her completely by chance.
“Alexa,” he returned.
He looked her over, and she noted his appreciative scrutiny with a wry smile, doing a playful twirl so he could inspect her properly, front and back.
“You look good,” he said, grinning at her display. “You know you look good.”
Pulling her chair back a little more so she could resume her seat, he took the one opposite her.
“You do as well,” she said, twisting bright-red lips.
Colt’s dick raised its head a little, detecting the presence of a willing and more-than-attractive female. That was the problem with him and Alexa; they had never broken up so much as they had just dwindled, and then … stopped. The distance was too much, and their differences too great. And though they both enjoyed their time together, neither of them had felt any compulsion make more of it than just that—enjoyable time.
“When I got the assignment to come to your town, I had to call you,” she said. “Of course.”
“Not really my town during the off-season. I’m back in DC. Close to family and stuff; you know how it is.”
“So, does that mean you came back to Philly just to see me?” Alexa asked in a cooing baby voice.
Actually, no. He had come back to Philly to get away from what was going on with Sam. She had been refusing his calls for a few days now, so to counter the impulse to camp out at her front door until she agreed to see him, he had come back to Philly. There was business here he could take care of, golfing he could do with some of his boys, and the occasional night out to keep him occupied.
“I had to be in town anyway,” he said vaguely. “Seeing you is a bonus though.”
“So, how’re you for time? Free for lunch?” Alexa asked.
“Sure. What you feel like? Want to eat here?”
Alexa wrinkled her pert little nose. “No. Let’s go somewhere fancy. I want you to take me to the fanciest restaurant in town.”
“What makes you think I go to fancy restaurants?” he teased. “Or that I would even know what they are.”
“Call a friend,” Alexa suggested.
Colt shook his head, smiling at her. “You haven’t changed one bit.” But then he reached for his phone and called Eddie. He would know where to take a woman who wanted to go to a “fancy restaurant”.
They took a cab over to Morimoto and were seated right away when they opted for the bar. From that vantage point, they had a view of the food preparation being performed with skillful, operatic flourishes. It was the kind of place people went to see and be seen but did not have to compromise on the quality of the food. The owner Morimoto was a food television favorite, which drew both tourists and locals to the restaurant, but Colt had never been before now.
Eddie, who knew Alexa as well, had made the accurate guess that she would like the place, because of its Hollywood-esque appeal. That, and the well-above-average sushi.
“This is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” she said, looking around once they placed their sake orders.
“Thought you might like it,” Colt said. Once Eddie gave him the recommendation, he’d checked out the pictures online to make sure it was befitting a woman like Alexa, whose tastes leaned in the direction of over-the-top.
“Now tell me what’s up with you,” Alexa said. She sighed, like someone settling into a comfortable, familiar chair.
This was precisely the kind of place that was comfortable for her, and familiar. She liked nice things, and nice places and the nice life that dating men like him afforded her. She wasn’t a gold-digger by any means but enjoyed being pampered and pampering herself. That insistence on creature comforts at all times, was exhausting, Colt remembered.
Never had there been a time, despite their mutual love of sports, that he and Alexa just sat around, shared a beer, eaten chicken wings and watched a game. Everything had to be a production. Reaching for his phone, which he’d set on the bar, he turned it face up. Just in case he got a text message.
“Not much,” Colt said. “Taking it easy while I can, seeing family. The usual, before the season.”
“And how’s the love-life?” Alexa sipped her sake as soon as it was set before them.
“Cutting right to the chase,” Colt laughed. “I always dug that about you.”
“Well … I’m only in town till tomorrow, so if we’re going to spend the night together, there’s no time to pussyfoot around it.”
Looking at her, Colt grimaced. “Wish I could but …”
“But you are with someone,” Alexa finished for him.
“Yeah.”
“You know I don’t care about that,” she said, taking another sip of her drink. “It’s not like I’m proposing. It’s just that … we were good together. At least in that way,” she added when she noted his raised eyebrows.
“We were,” Colt said. “In that way.”
Alexa moved closer. Her hair swung forward, swiping his cheek. She was close enough to kiss, close enough that he smelled her shampoo, felt her breaths.
“Is this seriously happening?” she asked, making a cute pucker.
“Is what seriously happening?”
Alexa leaned closer, speaking into his ear.
“Am I seriously having to talk you into fucking me?”
Colt pulled back and looked at her, biting into his lower lip. “Damn, girl, we haven’t even eaten yet.”
“This is just foreplay. You know that, don’t you? I’m not even that hungry.” She lifted the sake again, this time emptying her glass.”
Colt shook his head and looked directly at her. “Nah. This is just lunch, between two friends.”
Alexa sighed. “Fine. So maybe we ought to look at this menu then, huh?”
She sounded unbothered, but there was a slight peevishness in her tone. And there was no further conversation while they considered what to order. Once they had ordered though, Alexa turned on her stool and faced him.
“Tell me about her,” she said.
“What?”
“About the person you’re with.”
“I don’t …”
“I’m not about to get in my feelings or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Alexa said. “I’m curious.” She shrugged. “Because you and me? Once we were in bed? Effing awesome.”
Colt smiled and raised his sake glass to her. “True story.”
“So, what’s better than that?” Alexa asked. She looked more than curious. She looked almost hungry for information, like she thought he might know a secret she had yet to discover.
“What’s better than that?” he repeated.
He thought for a moment.
Sam screeching when she saw a bug, and literally jumping onto his back. That was better.
Sam taking a long gulp from his bottle of beer and then blushing and putting a hand to her mouth when unexpectedly, she issued a loud, ugly belch. That was better.
And Sam getting out of bed with a yawn and a stretch then reaching back to tug her underwear out of her of her butt-crack. Even that was better.
“Hold that thought,” Colt said shoving away from the bar and getting up. “Gimme a sec.”
Grabbing his phone, he made his way to the door, stepping out onto Chestnut Street. Standing near the stark white façade of the restaurant, he dialed a number, and waited. There was a better than even chance she would send the call to voicemail again, but he felt compelled to try anyway.
It rang three times, and finally there was an answer.
“Hello?”
He hesitated. “Sam?” She sounded weird, stuffy. “You okay? Were you crying?”
“No, I wasn’t crying,” she said sounding exasperated. “I’m sick.”
“Why didn’t you call …?” Colt shook his head, and spoke quickly, not sure whether she would stay on the line for very long. “Look, let’s just not do this, okay? This whole … not calling each other thing. I want to see you. I know we need to talk. But I want to see you. Can I see you? I’m coming over tonight.”
There was a slight pause. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes. I want to see you, too.”
Colt leaned against the building, next to the entrance, relief causing his shoulders to slump.
“How soon can you get here?”
“By seven tonight?” he said.
“Sooner.”
“Okay. Sooner.”
In his head he was already calculating how long it would take to be done with lunch, rationalizing that Alexa said she wasn’t really hungry anyway. By the time he’d hung up, he was thinking of everything he wanted to say to Sam, and how he would say it all.
When he got back inside, and took his seat, Alexa looked at him. A beautifully-arranged platter of sushi had been set in front of her, and she had chopsticks in hand, already beginning to eat without him.
She smiled. She looked him over. “Aw,” she said, letting the sound drag, the sound of fresh realization. “I see what’s happening here. You’re in love.”
Colt rode with Alexa back to the Ritz, because he was parked nearby, and wanted to get on the road as soon as he left her. With traffic, he might make it to Sam’s by five or so, maybe a little later.
Alexa seemed to sense his distraction as they got out of the cab. Probably because he was gazing down Broad Street, obviously eager to go.
“Come in a minute?” she said. “Walk me up to my room.”
All the gentlemanly things his parents had ever taught him warred with his desire to get going.
“Sure,” Colt said.
Each step, as they walked toward the elevator felt like a step in the wrong direction. Alexa was about a pace ahead of him, and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
When they arrived at her floor, she glanced over her shoulder as if checking to see whether he was following. The length of the hallway leading to her room seemed inordinately long. Once standing outside her door, she turned to look at him again, and smiled. But there was uncertainty behind it.
Inside, he waited in the living area while Alexa walked back toward the bedroom.
“Hey,” he called after her. “Y’know that call I had to make back at the restaurant? I have to hit the road in …”
Alexa emerged from the bedroom. She had removed her scarlet pantsuit and now was in just the blouse that had been underneath, and sheer hose, covering her perfect legs.
“I have an appointment downstairs at the spa,” she explained. “To get some kinks worked out of my neck and back. I was in Colorado before I came here. Did I tell you that?”
“No,” Colt said. “I don’t think you mentioned it.”
She took a few steps toward him. Then a few more.
“We could make it a couples’ massage, and then come back here to, you know, relax a little more.”
“Alexa, look …”
He would have had to be blind, deaf, dumb and stupid not to know what this was. Hell, he already felt stupid for thinking that ‘walk me up to my room’ could possibly mean anything less than, ‘let’s get it on one more time for old time’s sake.’ But Colt was sure he had made it more than clear earlier that he wasn’t into it, and it wasn’t like Alexa to have to give off the kind of vibes she was giving off now, vibes that reeked of something almost like desperation.
“Look,” she said, closing the rest of the distance between them. “This is me, giving it my best shot. Are you seriously going to just hurt a girl’s feelings?”
Colt’s head was filled with that perfume of hers again, and this close, he could see the flecks of light brown in her otherwise dark, dark eyes. Her eyelashes were long and looked as soft as a mink’s coat; and her full lips were moist and begging to be kissed.
“As you can probably tell,” Alexa’s voice was trembling now. “I’m …” She shrugged. “I’m not in a good place right now. It’s been …”
Her eyes were glinting, and Colt saw loneliness behind them.
“I don’t need a fucking massage,” she admitted. “I just need to be … held for a little bit. By someone who gives a shit about me. By, I don’t know, someone who’s at least a friend. And we’ve always been that, haven’t we?”
Colt nodded, though he didn’t really believe it to be true.
He and Alexa had been little more than acquaintances who had a series of one-night stands that went on for months longer than they should have. Once they were over, there were times when he was tempted to call her up. Then he would remember one big thing that stood out among all the little things that ended their relationship— he remembered that when he was on the road, he never missed her. Never, and not even a little bit. He even missed some of this teammates during the off-season, but a woman that he was intimate with had been unable to inspire emotions that he had for dudes who were little more than drinking and partying partners.
So, in this moment, all he felt was frozen in place, equally horrified and mortified for himself, as he was for her.
No one who knew Alexa even casually … hell, no one who even watched her walk across a room, would imagine that she could have a moment like this. She exuded total confidence, always, never a chink in the armor that Colt had seen. Except for the makeup. It dawned on him in an instant that maybe that was the armor. The makeup. Whatever he saw, whatever the rest of the world saw, Alexa did not see. And whatever lay beneath, she didn’t want them to see. And so, she covered it all up, literally, and figuratively. The makeup was a makeover—sadness turned to confidence, with the swipe of some blusher, the lengthening of eyelashes, the application of lipstick.
Colt felt a twinge of sympathy for her and did not protest or resist when her arms went up and around his neck, and she moved in closer. To refuse her now felt like cruelty. When she spoke again, he felt her breath against his neck.
“That’s all I want from you right now.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “To stay with me for a little while. And be my friend.”