Ava
I chewed the back of my pen, staring at the numbers. They danced before my eyes. Today they just wouldn’t add up. I had gone over the figures three times. Somewhere, something was wrong. Time to get serious.
This was what I did for a living. I was the one they called in for damage control. I liked a challenge. Doing the books was all good and well, but when they didn’t add up when something went wrong and payments were in arrears or money was disappearing, that was when I came alive.
I was good at it, too. Daniel, my boss, usually put me on the hard cases, the ones that other accountants at Ledger Accounting didn’t want to do. I followed the rules, colored between the lines and delivered on time. This world was structured, it was safe, I knew what to expect and there were no surprises.
Hannah poked her head into my office.
“Why are you still here?” she asked. Her hair was in a bun, held back with a pencil. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”
I glanced at my wristwatch.
“Oh, yeah. He’s picking me up from the office. I told him I wouldn’t have time to go home.”
Hannah shook her head. “Working overtime isn’t going to impress anyone you haven’t already impressed,” she said. I grinned at her. She closed my door and left me to it.
It felt like only minutes later that Daniel opened my door, pulling me out from between the lines again.
“Are you about done with that?” he asked.
I nodded, looking at the pages in front of me. “I think I’ve cracked it.” I handed him the file and the notes I’d written. Daniel took it from me and glanced it over.
“This is good,” he said, nodding. “Thanks.”
I nodded and got up, stretching my back. “I typed up an email and sent you a draft before we send the final copy,” I said.
Daniel walked to my desk and sat down on a chair opposite me.
“If you carry on like this you’re going places, Ava,” he said. “They’re already asking for you by name and I would be an idiot if I didn’t offer you a raise, soon.”
I shook my head. “You know I’m not going anywhere. I won’t let another company offer me more.”
Daniel chuckled. “Thank you for that. But I mean it – you deserve a bit of a reward.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Daniel.” It felt good to know that I was doing well, that they were happy with my work. I wasn’t going to gloat but I was more than pleased with myself.
He looked toward the window. I had a view of Chicago downtown. I didn’t look at it very often. When you’d grown up at the coast, with wildlife and sunshine greeting you every morning, the beauty of a city skyline just didn’t cut it.
“When is your off week?” Daniel asked.
“I put in the request for a week after next,” I said.
“You deserve the break.”
I shrugged. Maybe I deserved it, but I wasn’t taking it because I wanted to. It was forced leave because I hadn’t taken time off in years. I preferred to work. I lived alone and I didn’t have so many friends that I would be busy all day if I stayed away from the office.
“Are you going to visit your family in Florida?” he asked.
I nodded. “Might as well, seeing that I’m not allowed to be here.”
He chuckled again. My family lived in Apalachicola where I’d grown up. I didn’t often go back to see them. We spoke often but going back felt like traveling to yesteryear and I didn’t like it. Besides Caleb, who had moved to Tampa to work for his father, all my friends and family were still in the small Florida town on the Forgotten Coast.
“Knock, knock,” a deep voice said and Graham stepped into my office.
“Ah,” Daniel said, looking over his shoulder before getting up. “Someone to whisk you away from work.”
I shook my head, feeling silly. We weren’t kids. “I’m ready,” I said to Graham. Daniel lifted his hand in a half-wave.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to him when he disappeared through the door. Graham leaned over my desk and kissed me. He smelled like aftershave and sweat, a combination that reminded me of the constant sex we had. His brown hair was combed to the side and his hazel eyes smiled at me.
“Ready?”
I collected my bag from the bottom drawer in my file cabinet and stood up.
“Ready.”
Graham and I had been dating casually for the past three months. I liked being with him because there were no strings attached. We spent time together, talking about whatever came up. He didn’t seem to mind that my work was the priority in my life and I didn’t mind that he didn’t want anything serious. In fact, I preferred it that way. I didn’t do serious dating – I didn’t like getting attached.
“Where are we going?” I asked when we walked down the stairs that led to the lobby. I passed Hannah in the lobby and she winked at me. I rolled my eyes at her.
“I want to take you out to dinner. Like a real date.”
So much for not taking things seriously. I glanced at Graham. “That’s fancy.”
We didn’t usually do fancy. We tried to keep it simple. Pizzerias or Burger joints usually worked for me.
Graham shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to do a proper date, you know? We never dress up or anything.”
I got into his car and shut the door. He got in behind the wheel.
“I’m not exactly dressed up, anyway,” I said. I wore the classic office get up – a dress suit with kitten heels and gold jewelry.
“It’s neat enough for where we’re going,” he said.
He pulled off. I was suspicious. I didn’t like surprises. I didn’t like it when men tried out romantic gestures. I wasn’t here to be impressed, I wanted to unwind after work and share my life with someone that also had a bit of theirs to add to the conversation. I wanted companionship, not love.
We drove through Chicago and Graham parked in the street. We got out and walked a short distance to the entrance of a Restaurant called Bavette’s Bar & Boeuf.
“I have a reservation for Dunn,” Graham said to the seating hostess at the door.
“You made reservations?” I asked. This date night felt very rehearsed – it wasn’t impulse. It smelled like the kind of romance I didn’t want.
Graham shrugged. “It’s nice to do something different, isn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure. I didn’t like different. I liked what we usually did. Pizza and sex worked for me. It was simple and easy, there were no questions about where we stood... just what I wanted.
The restaurant was dimly lit with wood and brick finishes. We were led to a booth with a dark roundtable and leather seats. Graham let me slide in first and I couldn’t help but feel trapped.
“This is definitely different,” I said.
“Your waiter will be with you in a moment,” the seating hostess said with a wide smile and disappeared. I picked up the menu. Graham did the same.
“May I suggest our hors d’oeuvres?” a waiter asked, arriving at our table. “The Shrimp Cocktail is particularly nice.”
“We’ll have two, please,” Graham said. I glanced at him. I hadn’t wanted hors d’oeuvres. “And for our entrees, I’d like the Traditional Filet Mignon with Charred Asparagus and candied sweet potato.” He looked at me. “What about you, honey?”
Honey? I hadn’t even read through everything. It looked like Graham had studied the menu. This was all planned. I had to think quick but my head was spinning with questions.
“The Bacon Roasted Tomato salad, please,” I said, reading the first thing on the list.
The waiter nodded and wrote it down.
“And sparkling water,” I added.
Graham ordered wine that I wasn’t interested in. I didn’t like wine. Not when I wasn’t at home. This felt like a celebration of something I wasn’t comfortable with, yet. When the waiter left, Graham fiddled with his fork.
“You didn’t have to order a salad you know.”
“And if I wanted to?” He was being weird tonight. What happened to our casual way of being? “I don’t see why we have to do this.”
Graham sighed. “I just wanted to spice things up, do something special for a change. Aren’t you getting sick of your usual pizza routine?”
I shook my head. I happened to like our usual routine. Routines worked for me.
“This really is nice,” I said, feeling bad. Graham was trying very hard. “Thank you.”
He smiled at me.
“I’m glad you like it. I want to do stuff like this more often. Real date nights.”
“Aren’t we already doing date nights?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. We didn’t do date nights at all. I shied away from anything that even sounded like romance.
“You know we don’t, Ava,” he said. “But I want to go around town showing you off. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend and see how jealous the other men get.”
My blood ran cold when he said the G word. He leaned back against the leather seat looking proud of himself.
“Graham, I thought we talked about this. I don’t want to label it. We’re not doing that kind of thing. You know that.”
He nodded, looking around the restaurant at the other couples. We weren’t like them. I wondered if this was what he’d wanted all along and he’d just been humoring me, pretending like he didn’t want. “I know. I just thought that after three months of that you might start to trust me enough to date me.”
“You know it’s not about trust,” I said. It was a lie, though. It was exactly about trust. I didn’t trust that Graham wouldn’t break my heart once I gave it to him. Men weren’t particularly good with fragile things and my heart was high on the list of things I needed to guard.
“Then what is it?” he asked. He was starting to sound exasperated and the hors d’oeuvres hadn’t even come yet. “Why don’t you just want to call this what it is?”
“Because it’s not,” I said. I felt bad that he was trying so hard. I felt bad that he wanted more than I did. But I wasn’t going to buckle and let him push me into something I didn’t want. I didn’t like being told what to do.
“I told you from the start that I didn’t want a relationship. The only reason we’re remotely exclusive is that I have no intention of sleeping around. I thought you didn’t mind casual sex.”
Graham looked around the restaurant. I could see how it would be a romantic evening if it were someone else – anyone else – that believed in love. It just didn’t work for me.
“Don’t you ever want more?” Graham asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t. I told you this, though.”
He nodded. “I thought it was just a matter of time. You know, that thing where men are flash fryers and women are slow cookers.”
I chuckled, surprised. I had mentioned that to Graham in the beginning. I was shocked he’d misinterpreted it so much.
“I was talking about foreplay, Graham. Relationships don’t work like that.”
The look on his face sent a pang of guilt through my chest. He needed someone that would return his affections, that he could dote on and it wouldn’t be thrown back in his face. He needed someone he could build a future with. I wasn’t that person.
“I’m sorry, Graham. I can’t do this. I don’t think we should keep seeing each other.”
Graham blinked at me, mouth slightly open.
“How did this go from a romantic date night to a breakup?” he asked.
“It’s not a breakup,” I said. “We weren’t dating.”
“You know what I mean,” he said. He sounded hurt.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t do love.”
The waiter arrived with the Shrimp Cocktails, two cocktail glasses with a spicy Avocado mouse and shrimps curling around the edges. It was very poetic.
“This looks great,” I said to the waiter.
“But you’re not going to eat it?” Graham asked when the waiter left and I pulled my handbag closer. I sighed and shook my head.
“Can’t we just go back to the way thing were before I tried to get more serious?"
Graham looked carefully hopeful, like a child. It killed me to have to break his heart.
“I’m sorry, Graham,” I said. “It’s unfair of me to keep doing this if you’re looking for love and I’m not. Rather find someone that feels the same as you do. You deserve so much better than me.”
I looked at the cocktail. “Find someone that will share Shrimp Cocktails with you.”
I fished in my bag for money. I didn’t want him to pay for my half of the bill if I was going to get up and leave.
“No, don’t,” Graham said. He looked dejected. “See it as a farewell gift.”
It was so damned bittersweet I could have cried. I leaned forward and hugged him.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. He stood up so I could slide out of the booth, leaving him behind in his leather seat to eat Traditional Filet Mignon alone.