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I twist the stem of my wine glass. “You’re right. But it’s difficult to know that about someone without getting involved emotionally.”
“One thing I’ve learned from years of leading adventures is you must rely on your instincts or intuition. If you’re cut off from that visceral part of yourself, you won’t be able to make sound judgments. One more free piece of advice is that if you don’t share what you’re truly thinking, it’s hard to figure out what someone else is thinking.”
The server comes and places our appetizer between us. “Enjoy.”
I scan the kitchen. A chef wearing a white apron stands near a cooktop, stirring something. Two other sous chefs are busy chopping ingredients.
I look at the food. “It’s beautifully plated.”
“It’s a pleasure to have someone else prepare the food. I often cook something over a fire, whether salmon or something I packed and carried in. But this is on another level altogether.”
I place a piece of beef tenderloin with a Comté cheese and horseradish cream sauce on my plate. I cut a small piece and put it in my mouth. “It’s delicious.”
We spend the next hour letting the meal unfold and enjoying each shared plate and selected wine. I laugh at his stories and ask him questions about his life. It seems he loves to live off the grid with merely a backpack and a compass.
When Lorimer asks for the check, I reach for my handbag, but he insists on using his Amex card. “I invited you. I’ll take care of the bill.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to eating alone.”
Within a few minutes, after bundling up in our winter coats, we head back outside.
We walk along the sidewalk in silence. I wonder if he thinks I’m too emotional. I’ve admitted all sorts of things to him tonight. I’m usually much more reserved until I really know someone. But somehow, I let myself say whatever I wanted. It felt liberating. I may have been too honest. Hopefully, he’ll chalk it up to jetlag or being in a different environment.
4
Kiss and Tell (Alex)
I’m reluctant to end the evening. “We’ll walk by my hotel. Do you want to stop in for a coffee?”
Her eyes widen. “Haven’t I exhausted you with all of my emotional disclosures?”
I smile. I feel energized by her willingness to tell me things. “I’m curious about you.”
She narrows her eyes. “Really? Most people find me an open book.”
I zip my jacket. “I’ve never met a glamorous schoolteacher.”
She smooths down her scarf. “I’m hardly glamorous. I’m wearing jeans and a ski jacket.”
I stop walking and tug her towards me. A streetlight illuminates her shiny hair and sharp cheekbones. “You’re beautiful, Imogen. You don’t need makeup or dyed hair or insanely white teeth.”
This evening she has enveloped me in her soft demeanor, enticing scent, and delicately exposed secrets. I know why she holds back and what she wants for her life. It’s not what I want but still I find it intriguing. And I want more from her.
She pushes away from me. “Maybe we should say goodnight.” Her voice has an edge to it.
Fuck.What is wrong with me? “I didn’t mean to offend you. I find everything about you alluring. I’m not used to making small talk. I spend most of my time in forests or jungles, not in conversation with someone who captures my interest and makes me into a blithering mess.”
Imogen crosses her arms. “I wouldn’t say you’re a blithering mess. But it isn’t respectful to comment on my appearance. I enjoy wearing makeup because it makes me feel polished, not because I’m hiding who I am.”
I feel a tightness in my chest. “You’re stunning. You don’t need it.”
She looks away from me. “It’s a choice. I like looking sophisticated.”
I consider the many acts of defiance I’ve undertaken to separate from my parents and grandparents. “Is it your way of rebelling? Is it about not fitting into a bookish stereotype?”
Her chin lifts. “Maybe. What are you so curious about me?”
I struggle to find the right words. “I just am. I find you fascinating. Do you want to get coffee?”
