The Lessons (10 page)

Natalie

“He’s very good looking. Too bad he’s gay.” Paulina pouted.

“Well, Natalie, next time he’s in town, you have to invite us out with you. Gay guys are the best to go out clubbing with.”

I looked across the table at Renee and Justine. My co-workers and I were out at lunch, and together with Paulina, I was having a real
Sex In the City
moment, and strangely enough, I didn’t hate it. In fact, I was kind of enjoying myself.

Justine’s eyes flew open. “Oh my God, Paulina, I didn’t tell you about how my date with Hollis went!”

Paulina scrunched her brow. “Wait, when did you guys go out? I thought that was tomorrow night?”

“Nope. Last night!”

“Oh MY GOD. How did it go? What did you guys end up doing?”

Justine went on to animatedly describe their dinner at Delfina, a hip Italian spot. I zoned in and out of the conversation. Ryan’s text to me yesterday had me checking and re-checking my phone like a mad woman. I don’t know why I thought I’d get another text. It wasn’t like I’d seen him since Sidewalk-gate, but hey, a girl could hope.

Dammit.

I couldn’t believe I’d asked him his sign. He probably thought it was so lame. And now, that I was so lame. Which I was. Because I was checking my phone constantly.

Should I just text him? I mean, he had given me his number first, right? When we met at the library. Plus, he’d texted me…

I can’t text him, I mean, really—what would I even say?

Hi, just me. Just thinking about that thing you did. You know, your lips on my V.

Hey Andrews, thanks for the O.

Glad to know you’re a Leo. Wanna roar in my vagina?

God, I’m such a disaster,
I admonished myself as I put my phone in my purse and tried to refocus on the conversation in front of me.

“So then I was like,
put it in
, and he was like ‘It
is
in’,” Justine covered her mouth like she’d just divulged a juicy secret.

“No!” Paulina shouted a little too loudly, folks at the other tables started to turn around to look at us.

“Oh my God,” whispered Renee, covering her eyes.

I took a big mouthful of my Cobb salad.

She nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

“That is so disappointing. Hollis is so hot.”

“Who’s Hollis again?” I asked, covering my mouth full of greens.

“Hottie from Senza Corp, the company on the floor below.”

“We’ve been talking to each other in the elevator, for what, three months?”

“Six,” Renee corrected.

“Six months! And he finally asked me out last week. To say he was a little disappointing would be to put it mildly.” She grabbed a breadstick off the table and broke it in half before holding it up.

“So disappointing,” Paulina lamented.

“Seriously,” Renee echoed. “Remind me to shut up next time I complain about my husband. I’d hate to be out there in the game right now.”

I stuck another giant bite of salad in my mouth.

After lunch, Cathy swung by my office.

“Hey Natalie, I just wanted to check in and see how things were going on the audience development project. Do you think we’re on track to present next week?”

“Oh, absolutely. In fact, I printed a draft of the summary for you. Hang on, I know it’s here somewhere.” I flipped through the papers on my desk. I had printed it this morning before my meeting with the designers, or at least, I thought I did.

“You know what? I will email it to you. I thought I printed it, but I must have not.”

“No problem, Natalie. Email works. Saves trees and all that…” she made a flappy gesture with her hand. “Everything else going okay? Getting the support you need?”

I really did luck out with Cathy. She was proving to be a great boss. I mean, who asks that?

“Yeah. I am. Thanks Cathy. Everyone’s been great. I’m going to send you that summary now.”

“Great,” she said, heading back for the door. “I look forward to reading it.”

Ryan

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I barked into the phone. “Aren’t you required to give notice or something? I have a client coming in ten minutes!”

“We did Mr. Andrews, we tried. We left two notices last week. I’m sorry if you didn’t see them, but all the premises are off limits until Wednesday.”

I stood on the sidewalk and rubbed my temple with my free hand. I had been so busy with school lately— I guess I had neglected to check my mail. So now here I was, just a few minutes from my next appointment with Natalie, and without an office.

“Whatever you do, Mr. Andrews, don’t try to go inside. It’s not toxic, but it is important that the seal is maintained.”

I nodded aggressively, even though the landlord couldn’t see me over the phone. “Fine. Whatever. Thanks for calling.” I jammed my finger onto my screen, ending the call. Okay. New plan. I couldn’t take her to my place or hers, so that left only one other option. I held up the phone and scrolled through my contact list. She was probably already on her way here, so I was preparing to leave a message when a woman’s voice answered.

“Ryan?”

“Natalie— wait, are you driving? You shouldn’t be on the phone if you are driving. Pull over.”

“Whoa, chillax taskmaster. Yes, I’m en route to your office— via the sidewalk, if you must know. Why, what’s up? You sound anxious, everything okay?”

I did? Fuck, well, I just don’t like to be un-prepared. Maybe I am a taskmaster. I need to be in control when I do my work. Plus, although I wasn’t quite ready to admit it, today was a big day.
The
big day. I’d stalled for two sessions already. But today, barring an earthquake or tsunami, there was no way I was letting Natalie Reese walk away a virgin today. I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. It’s just— we need to move today’s appointment.”

My question was met with silence on the line. “Natalie?”

“Sorry, just thinking. Why do you need to reschedule? What happened?”

“No, not reschedule, move like physically move. We just— listen, how close did you say you were?”

“I’m right behind you.”

I turned on my heel, and sure enough, there she was, walking down the sidewalk to me and as I set my eyes on her, for a moment I forgot our predicament. My shoulders relaxed as all the tension slipped away. She was dressed in a light blue blouse and tight jeans that hugged her hips and ass perfectly; she literally looked like a breath of fresh air.

“Hey,” I said as she got closer.

“Hey,” she mirrored. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking up at the Victorian building.

“Nothing. Just some emergency maintenance work. Would you mind if we used a hotel room for our appointment this afternoon?” I was trying desperately to come off as nonchalant, but was highly distracted by her chest. Her blouse was cut in a way that almost dared me to look, but I couldn’t.

You know, poor form, and all.

“Um, I guess so,” she said, squinting from behind her sunglasses. “Did you have anywhere in mind?”

I jumped on my phone and used a travel app to find a hotel nearby, and in less than five minutes, I’d secured a reservation at a four star hotel. Okay, maybe it was a little much, but whatever.

Technology really is a wonderful thing. And I’m a horrible person.

“You’re pretty quick with that thing,” she said, nodding down at my phone.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Taxi?” She nodded. I swallowed hard, threw my hand up and in less than twenty minutes, we’d checked into a hotel downtown, and were headed to the bank of elevators.

As we waited for the next car, Natalie’s eyes darted around, looking at the large paintings that adorned the sleek lobby.

“So, this is a fancy place; you come here often?” she asked and I tried to decode her face. Was she flirting or was she serious? Either way, it made me chuckle.

“Definitely not.”

The corners of her mouth tugged up in a smirk. “I don’t believe that.”

“No, really. Never have any occasion to. Believe it or not, I’m actually more of a homebody.”

“Now that, I definitely don’t believe.”

The elevator dinged, and I got on. Natalie stood at the threshold, taking in the interior of the car before stepping inside.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I asked as the doors closed behind up. I pressed the button for the 27
th
floor.

“I don’t know, it’s just you’re so—”

She was interrupted by a sudden vibration followed by a strong shake.

“Ohmygod—” she said, and a look of panic erupted behind her eyes and her voice dropped. “Was that an earthquake?”

“No, no. It’s okay, probably just an elevator hiccup,” I said gently, trying to keep her calm. We were both perfectly silent as we listened for mechanical sounds letting us know we were back on our way, but they didn’t come. We glanced at each other. Crap.

The elevator was stuck.

I pressed the button for our floor again, but it was no use, all the lights were out on the panel.

Natalie’s voice was tight and her eyes rapidly moved from me to the instrument panel and back. “I’m going to press the emergency button.”

I nodded.

She pressed it once, and then again. Nothing.

“Seriously?” she asked, of no one in particular.

“I’ll call the hotel. I’m sure the engineer will have us going in no time,” I said, trying to keep the situation in perspective.

Natalie

I’m glad he was calm, because I was out of my mind. I braced myself against the wall of the elevator car, gripping the handrail for dear life. I had to stay together. I could not freak out in front of him.

“They’re sending the engineers. I hope you aren’t claustrophobic.” Ryan joked, hanging up the phone. “Boy, someone upstairs just does not want us to have sex today.”

I managed a half-smile and took a gulp of air. My throat started to close up and my palms grew wet. I leaned back against the wall of the car for support.
Dear God, please don’t let me pass out. Please don’t let me pass out.
I started to imagine the set of headlines:

UnSexed Virgin Dies En Route To Her Deflowering

‘We were so close,’ says surrogate

A high-pitched buzzing took over my ears, and I felt clammy as all the blood drained from my face.

“Wait, oh no, Natalie
are
you claustrophobic?” Ryan’s eyes widened at me. He came over to me and put his hand on the small of my back, lowering his voice to almost a purr.

“I just… don’t like elevators,” I whispered, my voice small as I felt my windpipes close in on themselves.

“Jesus, Natalie, why didn’t you say something? Here, breathe slowly; we don’t want you to hyperventilate. In… and out… in… and out. Everything is fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just concentrate on the sound of my voice.”

I closed my eyes and gave myself over to him. It felt like an eternity, but it was probably only a few moments until I was out of the woods. I let him hold me a little longer; I liked having him this close. He smelled liked he usually did— fresh like clean laundry and soap. I took another deep breath, inhaling his scent as I leaned against him.

“Thank you.” I murmured, “Sorry about that.”

“Do you get many panic attacks?”

I looked up at him. “Why do you say that was a panic attack?”

“Natalie, I’m going to have my license in less than a month. Recognizing a case-study panic attack is part of the territory.”

Oh. Right. Mr. Sex God was about to be Dr. Sex God. How could I forget? I sighed. “No… not any more. I haven’t had one in years.”

Ryan peeled back from me, and refocused on my face, examining it with unusual focus. “Usually in elevators?”

“Yeah… I’m not claustrophobic, just not a fan of small spaces.” I said leaning against the wall of the elevator. “They make me anxious. I usually avoid them. I had a foster family once that used to lock us in a tiny room under the stairs if we misbehaved.”

He cocked his head at me, and his jaw stiffened. “Seriously? That’s fucking horrible Natalie. Here, it might be a while, let’s sit down” he said, pulling me onto the floor of the elevator with him. He was sitting close. Very close. “I didn’t know you were a foster kid.”

“Yeah.”

“What was that like?”

“Huh?” I was still a little loopy from the adrenaline. Or maybe it was the closeness.

“Being a foster kid.”

“Oh. Fine, I guess. I mean, I don’t really know another way. My mom adopted me though, when I was thirteen. So I guess you could say I was lucky. I got out of the system.”

“That’s awesome. She must be a really good person. I mean, to take you in and all.”

Sitting next to him, I was painfully aware of his body’s position in relation to mine, and every muscle in my body was tensed.

“She was,” I said softly, as I considered my memory of her. It had only been a year since she passed away, but already I found it hard to remember what she looked like as a healthy, vibrant woman. Now all I could recall was a shadow of who she was when she died. I hated that. It felt so unfair.

“Was?”

I nodded and swallowed. “You therapists, you’re observant motherfuckers, aren’t you?”

He didn’t take offense to my language and just shrugged. “Requirement of the job.”

I sighed. “She died last year. Breast cancer.”

“I’m so sorry, Natalie.”

“Thank you,” I said, repeating my well-conditioned response. I was able to say it firmly and evenly after having more than ample opportunities to practice. We were silent for another beat, and I was suddenly desperate to change the subject. “So, can I ask you something? What’s the deal with the tattoos?” I asked, looking down at his shirtsleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows, exposing a finely detailed quilt of ink on his forearms. He had very nice forearms.

He shrugged and looked down at them. “What do you mean?”

“You have a lot of them. Do they mean anything, or is asking about them against the rules?”

He paused, considering his answer. “Eh, we might be stuck here for a while. Might as well chat. Just don’t use it against me in the office” he said, shooting me a smile as he unfurled his arms, his left arm leaning against my lap. “Which one do you want to know about?”

I tried to focus, but his touch was very distracting. I feel my skin prickle and all the little hairs on my neck stand at attention. I forced myself to refocus while still surreptitiously surveying him; there really were so many different images. I made my selection carefully. “That one,” I said, pointing to a scroll with Latin on it.

“Veritas Numquam Perit. It means ‘truth never perishes’.”

“Hmm…” I said, pondering the quote. “Kinda heavy.” I remembered the portrait on his arm. “Who’s the young woman on your arm?” I asked. I’d been wondering about the picture for a while and was hoping it wasn’t an ex-girlfriend.

“It’s a picture of my mom from when she was young.”

“Oh,” I said softly. “You said she passed away? Did she get a chance to see it?”

He stiffened. “No. Actually, both my parents died when I was nineteen.”

My eyes flicked back up to his face. “What happened?”

Ryan looked over at me. “It’s a long story,” he warned.

I gestured around the elevator. “I’ve got time.”

He rubbed his hand across his brow and took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll give you the abbreviated version. My dad had always been a grade-A asshole. He drank a lot, had a terrible temper, and liked to beat up anyone who was smaller than him. That’s how I got this—” He reached up and took a thin wire from within his ear.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Hearing aid. I’m ninety-five percent deaf in my right ear.”

“Deaf?” I whispered, and then I realized I should probably repeat it louder. “You’re deaf?” I’d never known anyone who was deaf, at least, not that I was aware of. Although that wire was tiny—I supposed I could have easily missed it, like I did with Ryan. “I don’t understand… How?”

He replaced the wire. “That’s what happens when you let a grown man beat a seven year old for leaving their dirty soccer shoes on the living room floor.”

I gasped. “No.”

“I know, right? Who the fuck smacks around a seven year old?”

“And your mom let him do that?” I replied, incredulously.

“Yeah, I mean, she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have any family here.”

“She could have called the police.”

Ryan shook his head. “My dad was the police.”

I gasped. “No way, he was a cop?”

Ryan nodded. “Not
just
a cop. Police Chief.” He sighed, “So she stayed.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “So wait, what happened to them?”

“Once I hit my growth spurt, he stopped wailing on me, and I thought for a while he was getting better. Until I realized he was just doubling down on my sister and my mom. Then the first Christmas home from college, we got into a big fight, like really big. Over something stupid, like not loading the dishwasher the right way. He broke my nose, and I’m pretty sure I broke his. So I high-tailed it out of there and went back to school. My sister called me two days later on New Year’s Eve and told me our dad had shot our mom and then himself during a fight.” Ryan leaned back against the wall of the elevator, as if he was pondering the thought for the first time.