HOW WE MET – Part 2

HOW WE MET

Chapter 4:

The Inquisition

Once inside the restaurant, she stepped to the hostess station and requested a table for two. She scanned the available seating and spotted an end booth near the kitchen doors. “That booth at the end will do just fine.”

The whole time I remained silent as we got settled. Since she had called this “meeting,” I sat expectantly. A waitress came placing glasses of water and took our order.

“I had you investigated, Sailor. So far, everything you’ve told me has been verified. I’m sorry about the loss of your wife and your child. That must have been devastating.”

“It was a double sucker punch, that’s for sure.”

“How did you go on? After losing half your family, including your wife, I don’t know how you did it. Care to explain? Was it drugs or drink that got you through? How could you get up every morning and get your only remaining son off to school, work all day, and then be both mom and dad to him at night? I’d like to know your secret. How did you come through all that and appear, well, for lack of a better term, so ‘normal’ even if a bit irritating?”

“It certainly wasn’t easy, I’ll admit. I focused on making sure my son was taken care of, that he had everything he needed. Well, except a mom or a brother.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I flashed back to those painful, sorrowful times. I dabbed at my eyes with my napkin. Fortunately, the waitress delivered our food and drinks, allowing me a moment to compose myself.

“And the neighbors helped as did some of my wife’s close friends. My son was a high school student at the time, going through profound loss and subject to peer pressure. It was a difficult period for both of us as you can imagine. It took over a year for us to get on the same page. When he went away to college it got a bit easier.”

Seeing me wipe my nascent tears away apparently softened her, at least a little. She could see that I was a real human, with feelings and emotions, not just some vagabond pirate looking to rape and pillage.

“Well, Sailor. That is quite a story. I can see that those events must have changed you, shaping you into who you are now. It makes me wonder what you were like prior. But that’s a story for a different time. Now, I need to uncover the truth behind you. Why are you stalking me? Why did you approach me in the pub? What are you really after? Inquiring minds must know.”

I sat quietly wondering how much I needed to share to get her to start opening up to me. I’ve found that sharing an inside glimpse of hidden secrets usually results in a return of the same. I nervously shifted in my seat and toyed with the food on my plate. I had no appetite under the emotional stresses of the situation. A beautiful goddess sitting alone with me asking probing questions, wanting to know more about me. It almost felt like the opposite of the crippling rejection she had so harshly delivered previously. I felt lightheaded being in her company and I didn’t want to fuck things up.

I tried easing into an answer, throwing a curve ball her way. “Heather, you said earlier that I appeared ‘normal.’ We both know that normal is a pejorative word, meaning different things to different people who each define it according to their own paradigm. What is ‘normal’ to you?”

Not comfortable with me holding a mirror to her, her demeanor toughened. “This isn’t about me, Mr. Sailor. This is totally about you. Tell me what your interest in me is or your life can change in a heartbeat.”

It was time. I had been observing her for days now, lusting over her desirable body and discovering that she had an advanced intellect. We had never touched one another other than our initial bump on the street. We had never even uttered the word ‘sex’ although she had shut that option down right from the beginning. Maybe naively, maybe presciently, I introduced the notion of sex.

“Alright, Dame Harmony. If that’s the way you want to play, I’m in. My behavior toward you is driven by two things. Can you guess them?” Again, answering a question with a question.

She responded somewhat annoyed, “Sex, sex, and more sex. Oh, wait, that’s three things. But I’m getting the feeling that sex is your driving force. You’ve created this whole ‘harmless teddy bear’ act simply to get between the legs of any female you encounter. How close am I?”

“You’re so close I’m sure that you can feel the heat. You’re highly intelligent. You’ve achieved many things that people twice your age never accomplish in a lifetime. I’ve read some of your papers online and your advanced intellect shines through every one of them. If truth be told, Heather, I’m a sapiosexual. I get sexually aroused by women with highly developed brains. Some men like big boobs, some men like a huge tush. I look for what’s inside that skull, that three pound gray mass of folds and crevices that controls us.

“So, yes. Sex is involved. And why shouldn’t it be? You are ‘double take’ beautiful. You have all the right pieces arranged in all the right ways. You are smart and confident. I mean, come on. Any man with a pulse would respond with a boner.”

Silence reigned. It was deafening in its awkwardness.

Heather nodded to the waitress for our check. She glanced at it and covered it with a hundred dollar bill. Without looking my way, she slid out of the booth. Very matter-of-factly she said, “Your ride’s leaving.”

She was several steps ahead of me walking to the car. She slid into the driver’s seat and fired up the motor, gunning the engine a few times. Vroom, vroom. I sat in the shotgun seat and buckled in. Heather stared straight ahead, then depressed the clutch and jammed the stick shift into first gear. Vroom, vroom again as she raced the motor. I braced myself to be launched forward like a rocket. Instead, Heather leaned over and gently touched her lips to mine. A sweet, flirty kiss lasting but a fleeting second.

Before I could react, the gravel under the wheels was flung backwards with a loud rattling and we jolted forward. She fishtailed on the gravel as she turned the car onto the road. Accelerating at full throttle, she slammed the gearshift lever between gears, rocketing down the road toward the highway. Squealing tires sounded as she piloted our spaceship onto the slip road, pushing the car to its red line with each gear change.

All I could do was hold on for dear life. The speedometer read 95 mph as we tore down the highway in total silence, only the high revving engine making noise. Then began the downshifting when our exit was in sight. She was driving this high performance sports machine like a woman possessed. Apparently, the speed limit signs on the surface streets meant nothing to her. They were in miles per hour, not kilometers per hour as in her native land. Maybe she was just confused as she sped through town headed for the marina.

She pulled her rocket ship to a stop at the curb in front of the marina entrance. Turning to me, she reached her hand behind my head and gruffly pulled me toward her. She smashed her lips against mine. She held my head tightly against her moist mouth, exploring with her tongue, giving me a taste of what it’s like to kiss royalty.

When she broke, she lowered her head.