Draw Me A Picture (15 page)

“Sorry for my casual attire, but I wasn’t expecting company.” she said, looking at the floor. William felt like a complete monster.

“I’m not surprised,” he said, smiling in spite of the situation. Michelle looked lovely, her soft hair a little messed from bed; a long blood-red robe flowed around her giving off a sweet, Capulet appearance that William found very attractive. He cleared his throat. “You probably had me for some cad who wouldn’t dream of coming over here directly to apologize.”

Michelle looked to be on the verge of tears again. “Sweetheart,” William said, softly. “Please don’t cry. I am sorry for losing my temper... Michelle.” Tenderly, he wrapped his arms around Michelle’s waist, touching his forehead to hers. She still wouldn’t look at him. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you, love,” he said, his voice firm, but gentle. “You are an extraordinary woman and you’ve heaps of taste. I was merely trying to point out that if you had the means, you would not be shopping at the Good Will, now would you?”

Michelle bit her lip. As much as she wanted to stand tall and shout: 'Yes I would!' she knew better. Any girl would rather shop at Dolce & Gabbana than the Good Will, if given the choice.

“Probably not,” she admitted, sighing. Summoning her courage, Michelle looked right up into his eyes. “I just... I don’t want you to buy things for me, William. I refuse to be that kind of girlfriend.”

William appeared momentarily taken aback, and then he grinned. The expression in his eyes warmed as if a fire had been lit in them. Michelle almost felt afraid from the intensity of his gaze, but wondered what had inspired such a look.

“So... you agree, then?” William asked, looking at her closely.

“Agree to what?” Michelle asked with caution. William chuckled and leaned a little closer to her; she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled really, really good, she noticed.

“To be my girlfriend,” William answered, softly. He perused her face and enjoyed seeing a blush creeping up her neck.

“Oh that,” Michelle said, looking at her hands. “Of course. Why else would you be here?”

Standing so close to the young woman, William was struggling valiantly with the desire to kiss her; he had yet to taste those inviting, sweet-looking lips of hers. However, this place was hardly appropriate, especially with her already in night-clothes, with her hair all loose and touchable; he especially noticed the word 'Stanford' stretched tightly across her chest. Funny how he’d never thought that word particularly sexy, until now. William forced himself to step back and put his hands into his coat pockets.

“You know, until I met you I didn’t realize how buried in work I was,” he admitted, trying a new subject. A soft look came into Michelle’s eyes at his words. “Near obsessed with it, really. You've given me a reason to step outside the office.”

A realization hit Michelle and she glanced at the clock.

“That’s right... you must have left work early,” she said, a little awe in her voice. William grinned.

“Haven’t done that in six years,” he admitted, looking at her. “And… what on God’s green earth are you doing going to bed at...” He glanced at his watch. “4:30??”

Michelle shrugged.

“A lot of reasons,” she stalled, looking at the floor. “I was tired.”

“Please come and eat dinner with me,” William said, clearing his throat. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Michelle was about to refuse but her stomach made a gurgling noise; a slight one, but William heard it. “Ah... you didn’t eat yet, did you?” he said, in an admonishing tone. Michelle stepped back from him a little and folded her arms over her breast. She thought his voice sounded a little too victorious.

“I have food, see?” she said, gesturing towards her desk. Looking over, William saw an apple sitting on top of a composition notebook. He looked back at Michelle with raised eyebrows. “Fruit is food,” she defended. William gave her a grin that said otherwise. Michelle felt defeated but she wasn’t willing to relent just yet.

“Michelle cannot live on fruit alone,” William said, folding his arms to match her stance. He could be stubborn as hell if he wanted and this little slip of an American girl, though very pretty and sweet, was not going to sway him. Not one bit. “Now, are you going to get dressed,” he continued, looking down at her from his six-foot psychological advantage, “Or must I drag you out of here in your robe and bare feet?”

Michelle looked at him with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t!” she said in a disbelieving tone. William lifted an eyebrow at her. Michelle sprang into action; she opened her door and made motion for him to exit. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just be three minutes.” William smirked and moved out the door, pausing just outside.

“Only three?” he teased. Michelle narrowed her eyes at him.

“You can time me,” she said and closed the door.

“If you don’t come out I’ll fetch the manager,” came William’s muffled words. Michelle snorted as she opened her armoire.

Determined to impress William she pulled on the new, velvety soft blue jeans and a long-sleeved dark red top; it had a feminine cut. Hopping up and down she put on thick, speckled wool socks and over them her brown leather boots, glad she'd polished them only hours before. Whipping a brush through her hair, she put on lip gloss and a little mascara before buttoning up her blue coat and putting on the beret and gloves. Glancing at the clock Michelle smiled; only two and a half minutes had elapsed.

“Ha!”
she thought.
“How ‘bout THEM apples.”
Michelle’s eye fell upon the roses; they lay on her bed--a little hidden by her comforter--looking like a pale pink pile of perfection. Scooping the soft blossoms up Michelle loving held them to her face, inhaling the scent. Oh, it had been so long.

As Michelle opened her door William pretended to consult his watch.

“A record for women worldwide!” he announced with obvious enjoyment. Michelle chuckled at his words as she closed her door. “An improvement over the robe,” William continued. “You look... nice.”

Glancing at his face Michelle saw he meant it.

“Thank you, sir,” She held up the roses. “And, thank you for these… they are loveliness incarnate” William smiled; he leaned down close to the young woman’s ear.

“You’re supposed to keep those here,” he whispered.

“I’m aware of that,” Michelle returned, clearing her throat a little. “But, I do not have a vase.” She accented the word ‘vase’ very heavily in a way that would make any aristocrat proud. “Besides, they probably would look lovely on Alfred’s dinner table.”

“Yes, they would,” William agreed. He offered Michelle his arm. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Shall we?” Michelle linked her arm with his.

“Yes. We mustn’t keep Alfred waiting.” In the elevator Michelle unknowingly tortured her companion by fully enjoying the roses.

“These are just beautiful,” she said. Closing her eyes, she inhaled rapturously, the petals brushing her face.

“Bloody hell...”
William thought, trying to ignore her sweet expression.
“She’s not even aware of what she does to me.”
He determinedly studied the elevator buttons.

Reaching the taxi outside Michelle surprised William by turning and putting her arms about his neck.

“Thank you,” she told him with shining eyes. “For the flowers, the advice... for coming here... everything.” She gave William a small kiss on his cheek and jumped into the waiting cab. Smiling a little William ducked into the taxi and shut the door.

“TriBeCa... Westyn Terrace,” he told the driver.  The cab took off.

William leaned contentedly back next to Michelle. Her innocent kiss and gratitude effectively quelled his rather lustful thoughts, for the moment. Once more he felt happy to just sit beside her. Michelle, on the other hand, hid her face in the roses. She was a little surprised at her own boldness. William didn’t seem to be offended, however.

Looking at the man out of the corner of her eyes, Michelle used the moment to study his profile.

“I’ve never actually eaten lamb stew,” she said, after a few moments. William turned to her with a smile.

“Really? Alfred will be enthralled at an untried palette.”

“I hope he won’t wrinkle up his nose at me and ask ‘what the cat dragged in’,” Michelle said uncertainly.

William laughed. He laughed so hard his side ached.

“Good heavens, Michelle,” he wheezed, “You say the most amusing things.” He wiped his eyes, a broad grin upon his face. “Alfred is not a snob. That’s a very outdated stereotype, you know. He’ll adore you, don’t worry. I shouldn’t wonder if you began regarding him as a surrogate grandfather.”

“He sounds almost as agreeable as you,” Michelle said, with a smile. Eyes twinkling, William pretended to scowl.

“I’m agreeable?” he hazarded. “Agreeable... hm.”

“Agreeable is good,” Michelle said, chuckling a little. “There is a severe short of agreeable people in this city.” Michelle looked down at her hands and fidgeted a little. As true as her words were, she knew that the adjective did not do William justice. Intrigued by Michelle’s bashful expression, William leaned down towards her.

“Agreeable... and what else?” he asked, his voice dropping lower. The young woman’s deep blush confirmed his suspicions. He leaned closer. “Come on, Michelle... what am I besides agreeable?” Squirming under William’s intense gaze, Michelle prayed for a distraction.

“Uh... I don’t want to inflate your ego,” she answered, quietly. William snorted.

“Unfair,” said he. “You’ve managed to avoid answering the question while appearing to have my interests in mind.” A smile was all the answer he got.

The Westyn Terrace building matched closely what Michelle had envisioned: a tall, luridly expensive building of town-homes, complete with the affluent people who could afford to live there. Michelle could not resist teasing William about paying a hefty amount of rent. Her ‘date’ surprised her by revealing that he owned his home, as well as the one above it.

“I had to make sure the floors immediately above me had a little old lady in a wheelchair as a tenant,” William explained to her, as he helped her from the cab. “My first apartment had young people above me and I never got any sleep. Besides, owning the space I get double the storage for my workshop.” Michelle took his arm.

“I would so enjoy seeing your wood shop,” she told him. “I love the smell of fresh cut wood.” Hearing this, William smiled down on her affectionately.

“So you shall.” He was very pleased she wanted to see his hobby. He found solace in it, as well as in her company. Having the two together would be interesting. “I bought the two homes to make a little money off living here, seeing as it necessary,” he said as they walked up to the doorman.

“Smart move,” Michelle said, nodding. “I hear town-homes have really gone up in value the last few years. I know when I was looking for a cheaper loft, there were none anywhere.”

“Except in Jersey,” William said, smiling. Michelle gave a little laugh.

“Now, now... everyone picks on Jersey.”

“Mr. Montgomery,” the doorman said, letting them in.

“Thank you, Hawkins,” William returned. Hearing the man’s name, Michelle stifled a giggle.

“I hear he has a treasure map,” she whispered, when they were out of earshot. William’s mouth twitched. He narrowed his eyes down at her.

“He's quite touchy about that, actually. Apparently all he gets at Christmas are pirate hats and fake treasure maps.”

Inside William’s building they crossed a large, echoing lobby; black granite floors and a rather stark design made it look more modern than the Waldorf, though comparing the two Michelle favored the warmth of her hotel’s lobby far more.

“The décor’s a bit cold,” William told her as they neared the elevator. “They let a half-drunk Japanese gentleman have his way with the color scheme.”

“That explains all the gray and black,” Michelle replied, wrinkling her nose. That got a deep chuckle from William. The elevator had a type of butler in it, the kind that pushes the button the occupants. Michelle had to suppress a laugh at the laziness of the tenants.

The doors opened at the 16th floor. William led Michelle out into a wide carpeted hallway. His was the first door on the left. Michelle stood and admired the door’s carved wooden facade while William entered in his code.

“Entrée,” he said, holding the door open. The rooms beyond invoked a feeling of pleasant surprise in his guest.

“Wow,” Michelle said, simply. By the looks of the lobby Michelle expected a typical bachelor pad: black leather furniture, a chromed bar, animal print and a giant shark aquarium. William’s home was a far cry from that... it actually looked homey. Certainly, the spaces were high and opulent but that walls were painted a muted, warm tone to counteract the space. Polished wood floors set off the walls' hue nicely, with gray cotton rugs tastefully placed here and there. Black and white photos hung on the walls and here and there stood a live ferns, the green fronds waving slightly in the rooms air currents. Natural light poured in from huge windows along one side of the apartment, gave the entire space a soft, pleasant glow.

“Wow... as in you like it?” William inquired, noting her scrutiny.

“It’s so comfortable,” Michelle said, smiling but also looking a little puzzled. “I admit... I was expecting a bachelor pad but, this feels like a home.” William grinned from ear to ear.

“I don’t think anyone could come up with a better compliment, Michelle,” he said, looking quite pleased. William took his guest’s arm and led her into the room a little more. “I had the place gutted and redone for that reason alone. I wanted a haven to return to each day, not some warehouse echoing of loneliness.” He saw Michelle still had her coat on. “Here, let me take your coat and I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“Oh, silly me,” Michelle said quickly. She unbuttoned her coat and slipped it off, taking off her gloves and hat and stuffing them in the pockets. “I can hang up my own coat, you know,” she said, lightly, looking up at William. He had an odd look on his face.

William sucked in a breath when Michelle removed her coat. He mentally took back everything he’d said about her clothes; her fitted, deep red shirt looked uncommonly well. The faded jeans she wore fit her like a glove. Aware of Michelle’s gaze on his face he scowled.