Chapter Eight…
It turned out to be a real date where he picked me up at my door. He even used the guest code I had given him when he first came to my apartment a few weeks ago. Without full access, he waited for me to push the button to open the elevator door. I was so excited to see what waited for me on the other side of the doors just like I was playing the Mystery Date game. I could see it was him in the elevator thanks to a camera inside of the box that projected to a screen next to the doors in my unit. However, I couldn’t see more than a portion of him where he stood which made it even more thrilling.
I was not disappointed at all as the doors parted and he stepped off extending a bouquet of flowers toward me. I definitely did not get the dud and I could visualize the words Laced with Spice. Trying to play it cool, not letting him know that I was swooning inside, I decided to be a bit playful.
“What?! No magazines, fruit, cookies, candies? Flowers? How unoriginal of you…” I actually giggled. “…and very beautiful.”
“They are exotic flowers… that’s what I was told. I’m not a botanist.” He shook his head. “You couldn’t make this easy on me, could you?”
“What do you mean?” I smirked. “Let me put these in water and then I’ll be ready to go.” I turned to walk down the hallway to my kitchen and I realized he wasn’t behind me. “You’re welcome to follow me,” I said as I continued.
“I’ll stay right here so we stay on time,” he called out so I moved quicker to get the gorgeous flowers situated on my kitchen island and rejoined him in the foyer.
Exiting my building through the front door was something I hadn’t done in a very long time. But there was his sleek Jag sitting at the curb instead of being parked next to my Fiat. Just like a gentleman, he opened the door for me and I slid into the passenger seat. I was thrown for a loop when Sade began to play when he turned the ignition on.
“Nice music.” I hid my smile by turning my head to look out the window.
He didn’t make a comment, but ignored me and changed to another subject. “Hope you don’t mind American food for dinner?”
Thoughts of a popular chain restaurant popped into my head knowing it was a Friday night. “Let’s make sure to sit in the adult, dirty-talker area to begin with so we aren’t asked to move.”
“Do you plan on speaking inappropriately?”
“I was looking out for you.”
“We should have no problem here,” he said as he pulled into a covered, parking slot in the back of what looked like an office building. “My home,” he announced as we made our way from his car to where he unlocked a heavy, steel door next to a set of glass doors, pushed buttons on an alarm system, and walked us through a small lobby area to an elevator. His elevator was plain compared to mine that had a dark smoked mirror-like look on the ceiling and streaked lucite walls to give it a woodgrain feel. His was huge enough for my tiny car to fit in, dull metal and plastic—good thing he owned an online business—nothing about it screamed hot date.
“Cozy. You live in your office?”
“Is it possible for you to steer clear of sarcasm or snarky things that will have me wanting to spank you all evening?”
“Well…” I hit my hand to my chest like I was offended. “I am shocked that you would say such a thing on a first date. But I shouldn’t be surprised with that bad boy scruff you have on your face and the fire in your beautiful blue-ish green eyes.” I smiled as he reached up and scrubbed his hand over the new stubbled look gracing his handsome face.
“What do you think?”
“I’m not so sure about it. I like the innocent, baby face, boy-next-door look on you. It is a contrast to the real fiery you that comes out behind closed doors. And I’m kind of partial to the whole looks can be deceiving mystery you have going on.” He smirked at me. “But I am willing to see how it feels between my thighs.” He raised an eyebrow and unmistakably adjusted his pants. “Yep, I’ll give it a go… but I think outside of the elevator would be best… you might want to select a button on the panel.”
That seemed to cool his fire and got him laughing before he punched some code onto a pad similar to mine but behind a trap door. Finally, the elevator began to rise and stopped quickly, opened onto a waiting area with streamlined, black desks in rows. I wasn’t sure how people actually got work done with floor to ceiling windows that faced the harbor. Walking further in, we reached the back glass wall and he pushed a button which opened to sliding doors that were almost not visible. “Interesting texture.”
“I didn’t think anyone would like to see their reflection in the glass wall all day. It would drive me crazy.” I don’t know why, I could most certainly be happy staring at Mason all day. I smiled at my own thought and followed him into an area that looked like a cocktail lounge with modern black leather sofas and chairs along with several low tables. The only thing that said office was a conference table behind it and what looked like a large private office beyond.
“Where’s the bar?” I turned to him with confusion written all over my face.
“It’s the think tank. Employees have their desks as you just saw, but people tend to come up with better ideas when they’re comfortable. They have the option of working here. That’s why the waiting area is only a couple of chairs. We rarely have anyone visit and definitely not our clients.” I spun to take it all in, trying to imagine working in this environment. “Come on, dinner’s not going to cook itself.”
He guided me toward the private office; a typical desk, a chair behind it, a sofa, a coffee table with gossip magazines—loved that element—a built-in fancy kitchenette, a private bathroom, and a door. We moved right through that door into a sleek bedroom that screamed bachelor pad… fuck pad. “Am I to be the dinner?” He shook his head and kept us moving to another door that took us to a stairwell.
Up we went, following a sign that announced this way to the roof. The last door on our adventure led us to a spectacular, up-close view of the harbor. I wasn’t sure whose view was better, his or mine? I decided they were equally, from a different perspective; he got the sounds and the action while I got the serene picture.
“Do you own this building?” I asked, watching a sailboat drifting in the harbor.
“It’s part of Butler Industries.”
He looked straight ahead as I turned to look at him.
“Which is you… Mason Butler? I saw the name on your door.”
“Yes, along with my family, stockholders and board members. My father, uncle really, holds the most shares which keeps him holding the reins.”
“Your uncle?” I tilted my head and he turned to address my inquiry.
“He raised me. I call him father and very few people in the business world know that he is my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. My parents were killed in an automobile accident on the way to the hospital to have me. It was a rainy night, slick roads, a car ran a stop sign and hit the tail end of their car, causing them to spin out of control until they careened into a light pole. My mother was extricated from the wreckage and given an emergency C-section, my father was already dead at the scene. The doctors called me the miracle baby and said that it was probably the way that they found my mother barely alive; slumped with her arms and hands protecting her belly.”
I stood there in shock, looking at him, and felt a tear roll down my cheek.
“I grew up with Morgan and two other brothers, Carter, the middle one, and Redmond the baby of the family and probably the most ambitious of all of us. I think because of our names and being close in age, people have often asked if Morgan and I are twins.”
“I understand that. Once I got his unruly hair in control and even before, there was something about him that had me thinking of you.”
“No more talking about him.” I sensed a hint of jealousy since I had told him that I was thinking about his similarities to Morgan. “Tonight is all about us and a new beginning. I figured it was time that I told you more about me and where I live. What better place than my rooftop? You’ve already introduced me to your balcony and told me about your family.”
“This is pretty spectacular.” His rooftop was the opposite of mine, no obstructions to viewing the ships in the harbor, surrounded by plexiglass. He did have patio furniture situated on wood planks and even an outdoor grill that was twice the size of mine. In fact, it was a complete outdoor kitchen with a sink and mini-fridge.
“We have office parties up here and it’s a nice break area for employees in the building. Most of them use the elevator.” He pointed to the opposite side of the building from where we accessed the roof. “Wine? I have a spicy red that goes great with bleu cheese burgers.”
“Aah, the American food… sounds great.” I moved closer to him standing near the grill. “Bleu cheese, though?” I tilted my head to look up at him and I longed to have him take me in his arms or at least lean down and kiss my eager lips.
He ignored my questioning and handed me a big glass partially filled with the wine and clinked my glass. “Cheers to first dates and getting them right.”
I wasn’t sure I could drink to that and it made me a little sad. There had been nothing wrong with our first date. It was perfect. I would never change any aspect of it. I hoped that he felt the same but I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I was happy to be with him at that moment. I had counted the hours until he arrived, getting ready two hours earlier than I needed to and sat around in my navy blue and white swing dress and tan sandals, ready to go.
Barely above a whisper, I couldn’t stop myself. “I loved our first date.” Then I swallowed a big mouthful of wine. He didn’t say anything, but continued to prepare dinner for us and asked me about my day and had me slicing tomatoes and chopping onions. I knew he wasn’t insensitive so I had to believe that he hadn’t heard me.
Before long, I had forgotten all about anything that wasn’t pleasant between us. Mason had me laughing as he told me stories from his childhood. I could not imagine raising four boys close in age. They sounded like a nice family; all of them active in a swim program every summer since they were little boys, that had them competing against different swim clubs. It was only Mason swimming, and Morgan playing water polo that actually participated in high school sports, and Morgan was the only one that played his sport in college and beyond. I didn’t dare comment about Morgan, but asked all about Mason. I learned that he was still doing competitive swimming in the form of triathlons a few times a year—another similarity to my father.
They say that girls often marry men like their fathers. Marry?! Why did that word pop into my head? It must’ve been all of the talking about our families that had me wandering down that lane. And maybe knowing that Mason’s mother had talked him through making a cucumber dill salad and pasta side dish to go with his gourmet burgers. He had made everything wonderful and I hated for the evening to end, but I remembered him talking about going through the normal steps of dating and we were on a do over date. So I thanked him for a lovely evening and suggested that he take me home. I was a bit shocked by his quick reply.
“Don’t you want to stay with me tonight?”
“I thought you wanted a total do over. No sex. A goodnight kiss and starting from there… the steps of getting to know each other.”
“I know you well and fuck taking it slow!”
I smiled all the way down the stairs to his bedroom below.