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She stops wiping the counter and finally looks up, the expression on her colder than an Arctic blizzard. I swear, if it was possible, I would have turned into a block of ice right then and there beneath that withering glare.
“First of all, my background is none of your business,” she snaps. “And second of all, how would you even know what sort of background I come from anyway? Are you stalking me or something?”
I give her what I think is my most charming, disarming smile. It's a smile that's dropped the panties off more girls than I can count at this point. But Emily doesn't melt. She doesn't blush. She doesn't do anything remotely like I expected, given my personal experience. She stands there, her face completely blank, but an anger simmering behind her eyes.
“Stalking is such an ugly word,” I say, trying to keep things light. “I saw you, was intrigued, and asked around. Is that such a bad thing?”
“It is when I don't want a creep like you poking into my life.”
“A creep? Wow. Judgmental much?”
I'm taken a little aback by her open hostility. She doesn't know me, and I've done nothing to her. I really don't get where this is coming from. Like, at all.
“I just don't like guys like you thinking you can flash a smile and charm your way into my panties,” she snaps. “I'm not like that.”
I hold up my hands to chest level, palms out in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I'm sorry. You've obviously had some bad experiences here –”
“Yeah, not just here,” she mutters under her breath.
“I'm really not like that, though.”
“Yeah, neither were any of the others.”
“Seriously, I'm not,” I counter. “Why don't we go get a coffee and –”
“How about we don't do anything?” she growls, her eyes boring into mine. “How about you fuck off, and I'll go back to my dorm and study?”
“Come on, I haven't done anything to you –”
“You haven't,” she says, her voice low and tight. “But that doesn't mean you're entitled to a date with me. I'm not obligated to go out with you. I don't recall reading in my orientation package that I'm required to fuck any guy who thinks I should.”
I honestly don't know what to say in the face of her obvious fury. To be carrying around that kind of anger, somebody had to have screwed her over good.
“Look, if you ever want to talk or anything –”
“I don't want anything,” she cuts me off. “Other than for you to fuck off and leave me alone. I have work to do.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turns and disappears through the door that separates the front of the shop from the back. I'm left standing there, still trying to process everything that just happened. I'm not used to being turned down at all, let alone with all the heat she turned me down with. I'm used to girls who are more than happy to go home with me. Who fawn all over me. Who cater to my every whim. It's been that way since I was back in prep school and it's been the same throughout my college experience so far.
To have Emily not just shoot me down but shoot me down violently like that – it's a strange and unexpected twist. And yet, despite that, I'm shocked to discover that it only increases her appeal for me. I like that she's not a pushover. That she isn't going to give in when I flash a smile. I like that she's strong and has her own mind.
There's something I like about it. A lot.
I walk away from the juice bar and am greeted by Nick's laughter and a clap on the shoulder. He's ribbing me about getting shot down, but it doesn't bother me in the least. Emily Hall intrigues me in ways no other girl has.
And her rage-filled turn down is only intensifying not just my curiosity, but my desire for her.
Emily Hall is going to go out with me. She's going to be mine. She just doesn't know it yet.
* * * * *
I look at her face in the headshot, the memory of that first meeting still rolling through my mind. It had been a humbling experience, but it also taught me a lot. It taught me what I wanted in a woman along with what I didn't want.
And what I wanted was a woman with that fierceness and spirit. A woman who knew what she wanted, was unwilling to settle for less, and was not afraid to speak her own mind. I'd been with too many women who were willing to subjugate their entire thought process and opinions to me. While women like that might be fun for a little while, there was no way I can stay interested in somebody like that for the long term.
No, I need a woman who is intelligent. A woman who is outspoken and is unafraid to share her thoughts – whether I'm going to like them or not. To me, there's nothing sexier than an intelligent woman who isn't afraid to assert herself – or put me in check when I step out of line.
Back then, Emily ticked so many of the boxes I didn't know to appreciate at the time but are must-haves for me now. I didn't really recognize it back then – I couldn't really quantify or identify it – but back in the day, when we were both at Rodham, she was the perfect woman for this older version of me.
