Very funny.
We made arrangements to meet in one hour. I had to convince this stranger that I wasn’t doing anything illegal, and there were so many ways this could go wrong.
4
BRONSON
I knew he was lying when I agreed to meet him. And yet, I still agreed. Every single thing about this situation was messed up, including my reaction to it. But despite seeing all of the red flags, I kept on ignoring them.
Saying that the picture was taken in the wild was ridiculous. How could he have expected me to believe that? It was obvious that there were signs of a party there, including a shot glass in the corner, but I went along with it. And yet he typed it out as if it were fact, and I went along with it as if it were a semi-reasonable response.
At the time, I tried to convince myself it was because I needed to get to the bottom of the wild panther situation and put an end to it. But it was more than that, and I knew it. There was something about the way he responded to me that had me wanting to meet him, and that made me mad.
Why would I want to meet somebody who would have a wild animal and then lie about it? And then he was texting his ex with photos. That part I did believe, and emotionally, that part hit the hardest. Why should I care that he had an ex or that he wastexting him? I shouldn't. His personal life had nothing to do with me. Nothing.
Maybe my mother had been right all along. Maybe I needed to go find a date, one that I was looking at as a possible forever. Because obviously, when I ran across an asshole who had wild animals in his keep, and I thought, “Oh yeah, meeting up with him would be good,” I was a little too lonely.
We met at a centralized coffee shop. It was one I frequented. It was pretty good, but best of all, it was safe. If I’d managed to become some sort of serial killer magnet during this fiasco, I’d be fine here.
I went inside and looked around to see if I could figure out who the mystery person behind the phone was. There were some women in one corner with their toddlers walking around, faces covered in whipped cream. It definitely wasn’t them.
There were also a couple of older people working, and by “older,” I was assuming that this person was closer to my age than sixty. But I really didn’t know anything about them, other than that they had access to a panther and they lied… two huge red flags. And yet, there I was, getting myself a cappuccino.
I took it to the corner furthest away from the mothers’ group. I didn’t have anything against children… I liked them and wanted some of my own someday, but I had a strong feeling that this conversation wasn’t going to be child-friendly. It was best just to keep it outside of their earshot.
He came in a few minutes later. I recognized him instantly, which was weird considering I’d never seen him before. But there was something about him, almost as if he was walking like the panther he’d taken the photo of. And he was hot… hotterthan hot. Had I met him in any other situation, I’d have been hoping that he was going to take me home after this.
He caught me staring at him almost instantly and gave a slight nod before going up to the counter and ordering his own drink. I thought for a tiny moment that maybe I was wrong and it was just some random guy getting coffee, thinking that I was checking him out. But then he came over to the table I was at.
“Hi, I’m Lincoln. I sent you the picture yesterday.”
“Bronson. Yeah. Sit.” Sentences weren’t forming, but he did as I requested.
I’d been taken aback by how warm his voice was and how instantly I felt safe around him, not that I was the best judge of character. I hadn’t expected Kyle to try to get handsy in the middle of a restaurant, either, so I wasn’t exactly one who could be trusted in that realm. I blamed Lincoln for being so hot. Yeah, that had to be it.
“I don’t know why we had to meet to get you to realize that you shouldn’t be keeping wild animals in the house,” I said.
“I’m not.” He picked up his coffee and took a slow sip. “I told you that already.”
“Don’t give me the story about the picture in the wild. I can see the background just as well as you can.”
He let out a long breath. “I’m a photographer. I can move pictures around.”
I wanted to argue that I tried to find hints in the image that he’d done that, but couldn’t. If the guy had been a random alpha with a smartphone that took pictures, it would’ve been one thing. Aprofessional photographer, though? It would make sense that he could make it flawless. Not that it made sense.
“Yeah, it didn’t feel like that to me.” Feelings he couldn’t argue with.
“I... but I can assure you, I’m not keeping wild animals.”
I’d expected him to double down on the photo manipulation and was surprised when he didn’t. Did that mean he was admitting that he hadn’t made the image? Maybe.
“I’d never keep a wild animal captive. Animals should be free. I don’t even like seeing dogs when they’re chained up outside. At least get a fence and let them run free for a little bit.”
Why did he have to sound so sincere? Being angry with him and trying to get the panther a better life was an easy path to follow. Now it was as if there were twenty street signs and I wasn’t sure which one to take.
“I know, right?” I walked right into his trap of conversation, because suddenly we were talking about what kind of dogs we liked and my childhood pet… a cat who thought he was a person and tried to sit at the dining room table every night.
I still didn’t feel like I had a decent answer about the picture, but with every passing moment, that worried me less, and not seeing him again worried me more. This felt like a date more than the scolding I’d intended it to be. I even had a packet of papers in my bag highlighting all the laws and the different ways he could help his panther. And here I was, flirting away, feeling like I wanted him to hug me, to hold my hand, to just be closer.
