“Yeah, it’s something,” I said.
“Something? You know how many people would kill for that? You have made yourself into this giant mystery, Josh. Everyone wants to see your artwork. Everyone wanted to try and catch a glimpse of you. You show everything about yourself through your artwork, yet nobody knows a thing about you. I don’t even know that much about you…”
“Yes, you do,” I said.
“No, I don’t. Think about what we do, Josh. We talk about art. We drink. Then we…”
“I know,” I said. I rubbed my jaw again. “That’s good enough, right?”
“Is it?”
“For me, it is.”
“Okay. Then it’s the same for me.”
I leaned forward. “Why don’t you have someone in your life, Michelle? A boyfriend? Someone to take care of you?”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
I didn’t answer as I pulled myself from the booth.
I charged through the restaurant like I owned the place. I didn’t care who was sitting where or why or what Amelia was supposed to be doing.
The entrance to the kitchen was tucked off to the right side.
That’s where I went.
I spotted her. Not coming from the kitchen, but behind a small counter where there was a computer screen.
She stood there, punching at it with her pointer finger.
The glow of the screen on her face made me grin.
I blinked as though I were taking a picture of her. Every line of her face. The shape of her silhouette. Her hair. Her nose. Those lips.
When she turned and saw me, she started to shake her head.
“I’m not moving,” I said.
That at least got her to come after me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About why you’re jealous of me being with another woman.”
“Jealous? Hardly. I’m doing my job right now, Josh. Just because I was supposed to write a story about you doesn’t mean I’m at your mercy.”
“At my mercy?” I asked. “Those are some intense words, love.”
“Please,” she said. “Go back to your date. I have a bunch of tables to take care of.”
Without hesitation, I slipped my hand into hers and stepped back, pulling at her.
“Josh,” she growled.
“Come here, love,” I said. “For a second.”
She shook my hold away and followed me as I moved back toward the restrooms.
We were hidden, not that I really cared about that.
“I meant what I told you,” I said to her. “I’m not on a date. Not that it should matter.”
“It doesn’t matter, okay?”
“What do you want to know about me, Amelia?” I asked. “Everyone wants this story from me. I don’t get it. There is no story. I do what I do.”
“What everyone else wants and what I want are two different things,” she said.
“Meaning?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Amelia walked backward, her blue eyes trying to destroy me.
“I’m still waiting to read one of your stories first,” I said.
“Tell me where to send one then,” she said.
She was beautiful.
Intense.
She was the same kind of trouble as before.
“Will you tell me what you think of these?” Michelle asked.
She brought out a small, black folder and opened it. Inside were black and white sketches she had been working on. The thing with Michelle was that she was more talented than she knew. She second guessed herself. She never thought she was good enough. And sometimes she tried to do too much.
I flipped through the sketches.
Some were okay.
There was one of a bed and a man under the covers.
I told myself it wasn’t me.
But I knew better.
My eyes looked at Michelle’s.
She had that look to her.
I had messed things up real badly with her.
After looking at them all, I pulled out the best five.
“Right here,” I said. “These. Just like this though.”
“Sketches? Come on, Josh.”
“I’m telling you. These are good like this. The rawness matters.”
“What about the others?”
“Fuck the others. I’m showing you these. Go with it.”
“You think?”
“I know so.”
“Josh, there’s something else.”
“Another drawing?”
“No. A job offer.”
“A job? You?”
“Listen,” Michelle said. “It’s work. It’s something consistent. But it’s across the country.”
“So, what’s the hesitation?”
“You,” she said.
“Me?” I asked. “No. You can’t say that. Or do that.”
“Do what?”
“There is no… me. You. You and me. Me and you. All that. I’m sorry, Michelle. I really fucked everything up. You were there for me. Even though you don’t know why. But I made it clear what it meant. Or didn’t mean.”
“I know you did,” she said. “I just… I don’t get your heart.”
“Neither do I,” I said.
I spotted Amelia walking through the restaurant again.
Something hit me in the gut, and I pulled myself out of the booth for a second time.
“What are you doing?” Michelle asked.
“Fixing something.”
Amelia came out of the kitchen and jumped when she saw me standing there.
“Again?” she asked.
Her curly hair was sweaty, half matted down, other pieces sticking out everywhere. Her black shirt and black pants worked wonders on a body that I never remembered her having.
“Need you for a minute,” I said.
“Josh…”
“No,” I said.
Amelia sighed and ran a hand over her hair.
She shook her head and moved toward me.
I stepped back again into the dimly lit hallway to the restrooms.
“What are you trying to do to me tonight?” Amelia asked. “I’m trying to work, Josh. I don’t care why you’re here. Or who you’re here with. I have a job. This is my only job, okay? So, whatever you’re-”
My hands touched her waist and pulled her even closer. She let out a little yelp sound and her hands touched my chest. Her eyes became really wide.
It had been such a long time.
Such a long fucking time.
I kissed her.
My lips pressed to hers, long enough to kill some time, but not too long that the kiss would have become hotter.
I pulled away and reached into my pocket.
I had written something on a napkin for her.
“Whenever you’re ready, love,” I whispered into her ear and pressed the piece of napkin into the palm of her hand.
It was the address of where I lived.
If Amelia
