“My parents were killed when I was a child and I was brought up by my grandparents. They read to me every night and stressed education. I loved to read and wanted to help others find the joy I discovered in books. So I became a librarian.”
“At least you became the person you wanted to.”
I looked at him. “You didn’t want to be an accountant?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to be a cowboy.”
“Are you teasing me?”
Ryan took a long pull on his straw and swallowed. “Absolutely not. I wanted to live on a ranch and drive cattle.”
“What stopped you from becoming a cowboy?"
"You mean aside from being allergic to horses?"
"There's more?" I thought being allergic was enough.
"I'm sort of afraid of heights."
I broke out into a gale of laughter. "Come on, you’re really kidding, aren't you?"
He shook his head and crossed his heart. "It's the truth."
"So how did you become an accountant? That's not even close to being a cowboy."
“Half the men in my family are accountants. I think it’s because we didn’t drink bottled water.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Are you certain you’re not a stand-up comic?”
He laughed and I joined him. I had to admit one thing. He was fun to be around. Unfortunately, it was time for me to head back to work.
Walking me back to the library, Ryan said, “I really enjoyed our talk. Would you like to go out tomorrow night—or is it too soon and you’ve already got plans?”
“I enjoyed having lunch together, too. What did you have in mind?” I had clearly forgotten all my former reservations and disregarded the warning voice, which was now screaming inside my head.
His handsome face broke into a wide grin. “Do you like to dance?”
“Yes, but I can’t remember the last time I went dancing.”
“Good. That will make the night special.”
Being with you will make it special enough, I thought, hoping the man wasn’t a mind reader. We said our goodbyes and I drifted back to work on cloud nine, wondering when the dream would end and I’d fall off the cloud. After all, given my experience, good things always ended, and usually quite badly.
* * *
I really wanted to look nice for Ryan. The first thing I did was purchase a new dress. It was definitely clingier and a heck of a lot shorter than the ones I normally wore. Then I made an appointment with the hairdresser to do something with my hair, which I usually wore up using a hair clip. I agreed to a dramatic makeover and had it straightened and cut into a stylish do. It looked good, but I really felt great when a guy whistled at me as I walked to my car. That had never happened to me before. Now if only Ryan liked it…Suddenly I was caring whether or not a guy liked my hair. What had gotten into me?
I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when I heard Ryan’s knock at my door. I hardly ever wore makeup, so the woman who stared back at me in the mirror was practically a stranger. My cheekbones looked more defined and my lips fuller. I liked what I saw and considered wearing makeup more often.
When I opened the door, Ryan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Am I at 23 Vine Street?”
I began to laugh.
“What did you do to Sarah? I mean, this is much more than I bargained for.”
I thought that an odd choice of words, but didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I figured he was just in shock. I took his hand. “Come on in, already, and I’ll get my coat.”
He still hadn’t taken his eyes off me. Finally, as if coming out of a trance, he said, “Sarah, you…you look fantastic!”
“Thank you. I was afraid that I’d starve to death before you decided to come in.”
“Well, you didn’t prepare me…for you. You’re…you’re a knockout. I really never expected this.”
“You’re acting like you never saw a woman in makeup and dressed up before.”
“Not this woman.”
I could hardly argue with that. I never looked this way at work.
Ryan hardly took his eyes off me the entire time we were in the restaurant. The gleam of interest in his eyes made me feel wonderful. Reveling in my womanhood, I’d never felt this marvelous being me before. And what did it take to bring this miracle off? A new dress, a little makeup, a cool hairstyle—or was it just the right guy? Could I trust these feelings? I’d never wanted to as much as I did then.
Afterward, Ryan took me to a nightclub a short ride from the restaurant. The jazz band was hot and we danced most of the night away. I was having such a terrific time I forgot to be self-conscious about my dancing, as I normally was.
“Is there anything you’re not wonderful at?” Ryan whispered in my ear during a slow dance.
I smiled. If he only knew what he was doing to me, holding me as close as he was. I may have been somewhat affected by the drinks I’d had, but I was totally high on life. This was the type of night I’d often dreamed and read about, but had long ago given up wishing for. Just like Cinderella, I prayed for the night to never end, for I feared being changed back to the old me.
When the song ended I asked to sit down. “My feet are beginning to complain.”
We sat, and Ryan took one of my legs and gently slipped the shoe off. He deftly began to massage my foot.
“Ooh, that feels sooo good.” I sighed pleasurably.
Ryan began to massage the other one. “If you like that, there’s more tricks up my sleeve,” he replied with a devilish little smile on his face.
“Really?” I asked, feeling slightly wanton. “Is this where you tell me you’re an accountant by day and a masseur by night?”
He gave a hearty chuckle.
