THE SEASON I NEVER LOVED

Familial stranger 3

The last place I had expected to see her again was Vince's pub, miles away from Rovaniemi, that small town where I met her a year ago, and I recognized her immediately.

How could I not, when I never once forgot her for a single minute. Her charming eyes, which shimmered at the thought of the crazy thing she was planning to try out that night, the silly laughter that came from her lips constantly, probably due to the alcohol, her breath, the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against mine, everything. Every single moment, every single part of her body I touched was all arched into my brain like a dream.

She was a stranger, the craziest woman I had met in all my thirty-eight years of living, and I tell you I have met very crazy ones.

Those who sneak into my hotel room and strip themselves waiting for me to come in, those who got a secretary job at my company and pretend to be some pitiful employee, trying to catch my attention and create some romantic fairytale of catching the CEO’s eyes, those who drug my wine at parties and try to create a scandal that I had defiled them. Even business partners, who try to use their daughters to get close to me, I have seen so many of them.

So when I say I had met all sorts of crazy people, I really have. But her, seeing her there that night, all drunk, looking so…. Sexy as she stumbled into my private room in that club and declared she would pay me $5000 to spend the night with her, I knew I couldn’t say no. I never even considered it an option to reject the offer.

Because the moment I saw her that night. I knew I wanted her, and since she was right in front of me, offering herself, there was no way I could say no.

Call it what you may, but I have no regrets for that night.

Well, maybe I did have one. Not asking for her number that night because my little kitten ran away before I woke the next morning, and I have never been able to find her since then…..Until now

I slipped naturally into the high stool beside her, and surprise, surprise. She was down on alcohol again. I heard her whisper something about wanting to check into a motel if there was one around, and I chuckled.

Yeah, if there was a motel, I would have invited her to my room almost immediately, hold my sneaky little kitten down for a whole night, and make sure she never escapes me again.

“Right? I also thought it was a shame the owner of this bar never thought of building a motel beside it.”

I told her in response, drawing her attention to me and damn…those eyes. The way she looked at me…. I knew I was not mistaken; it was her, because right there and then, I remembered every single moment of that night.

Thoughts that only haunted me in the middle of the night came creeping out of those dark places where I had hidden them. Thoughts that made me hot all over, thoughts of her I couldn’t get over until I relieved myself with my own hands.

I was on cloud nine, high up in the sky with excitement, looking into her confused eyes, only then did I realize it, that one feeling that pulled me back to earth and brought me back to my senses.

She did not recognize me.

I could draw her face with my eyes closed, map out every twist and turn of her body, and she did not recognize me? If not for the amazing night, which I believe she would not be able to re-live with any other man in a very long time, I thought she would remember me, since I was her first. The very first man she gave her virginity to.

This was a big deal for women after all, right? Even we, men, remember those women we sleep with who gave us their first time. So how could she not remember?

'Was it so meaningless to her?' I wondered as I looked at her, while she did the same, looking mesmerized.

If I hadn’t been disappointed that she didn’t remember me, I would have been proud that she appreciated my looks.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to shake off my unhappiness. The heartless woman broke my more than ten years of celibacy, gave me the most awesome night, and she didn’t even remember who I was? Now she was gawking at me like I was some new hottie she snagged at a club?

I’ve got to teach her a lesson. If she doesn’t remember what I look like, I would remind her, what I felt like. I thought, and a mischievous smile played on my lips, as I too pretended to be meeting her for the first time.

“Is it your first time around here?” I asked, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“So you come here often? Didn’t take you for an alcoholic.” She batted her eyes at me, entering flirty mode almost instantly, just like that night, and it didn’t take me long to figure out this woman had very low alcohol tolerance, but for some reason, every time I saw her, she was trying to drink one.

Is she trying to compete with herself or seduce another man? I sure hope it was the former, because if it was the latter…..

I laughed in response, “I’m a local.” I said, “I meant seeing you in town generally.” I played along. Not forgetting to remedy my previous mistake.

Finding out who she was right now was a priority because, if meeting her again wasn’t divine providence, I don’t know what it was.

“So you know everyone in town?” She asked as she rested her palm on her chin, leaning a little close to me, giving me her undivided attention

“Well, at least I'd know the few who looked like this,” I replied, leading the conversation, knowing she was interested. I wonder if she was also this flirty when she wasn’t drunk.

That I actually doubted because that night, she was dressed in skinny jeans and an oversized shirt, which we had taken a long time getting her out of. Now today, even though she wore a skimpy skirt, every bit of skin was hidden under those thick skin stockings. There was no way this woman was flirty when in her right mind. Which made it all the more exciting.

“Look like what?” She asked as she tilted her body towards me.

Her oversized white shirt allowed me to admire her cleavage. I took a glance then, let my eyes roam her palm-sized oval face, “Like you.” I whispered.

It was as if we were the only ones left in the world, and that old bartender guy knew better than to disturb this moment.

“What do I look like?” She asked, and I leaned in, close to her ears, my breath spraying all over her earlobes. I felt the urge to bite it, but resisted that.

“Very pretty,” I whispered and felt her shiver at my response. I smiled at the effect I had on her while she burst into laughter, her laughter a music I didn’t mind hearing all day long.

“You’re such a flirt.” She said as she rested back in her seat and shook her glass at the bartender. Only then did he come to refill her glass. I would have been a gentleman and stopped her from drinking more, but hey, I liked her like this, just the way she was, that is, as long as I was the only one looking at her.

“Funny, no one has ever said that to me,” I told her, my eyes still focused on her.

I've been called a lot of things: a brilliant businessman, a walking success, an extremely cold man, a sterile man, a monk, an asexual man, an amazing father, a model father, but certainly not a flirt. She was the first person to call me one, and for some reason, it amused me greatly. If she thinks my words are flirty, I don't mind flirting with her all day long.

She stared at me for a few seconds too, contemplating, maybe, I don’t know, but for someone who has done something as crazy as a one-night stand once. There is bound to be a second time, and I’m sure that second time was going to be me.

‘I really hope I am her second time.’ I thought as I took a sip of the scotch the bartender served me.

“I said you were a regular here, even the bartender knows your taste.” She said when she saw the old bartender bring me the drink.

“I come here once in a while to clear my head,” I told her, now rolling my scotch in the glass, my eyes focused on it for a few seconds.

“Oh, see. So, you love to clear your head often, then?” She asked, obviously still flirting

“Yeah,” My eyes returned to hers, as I took another sip of the scotch, “I do.”

“Who are you?” She finally asked, and I almost breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Because right here, right now, I was the only one who remembered that we spent the night together one year ago, I, jumping into the conversation and asking her who she was the moment I sat down, would most likely make her panic and run away. So I have been trying to take things slow, to be patient with her.

Looks like it finally paid off.

“I thought you wouldn’t ask?” I smiled as I stretched my hand out to her for a handshake, “I’m Isaac. A local.”

She stared at me for so long, leaving my hand hanging in the air, I wondered if she wasn’t that interested in me. I mean, I was charming..., I always believed I was. If not, why would all those women try to get into my bed? Well, it could be for the money, but come on. I have got to be charming. My daughter always says I was.

I think I also kind of like what I saw in the mirror every day, not to be narcissistic and all, but I stood at a height of 175cm, had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs. I was in good shape physically and fit for my age, with well-proportioned muscles and a six-pack. I mean, a TV host had once told me that with my looks, I could get any woman even if I was broke.

‘My looks should be enough, right?’ I wondered as I found myself lost in thought.

For someone who never cared about how he looked and always had a disgusting look whenever my daughter said, I was handsome, this was the first time I found myself worried about my looks.

“I’m Carla.” I finally heard her reply, snapping me out of my worrisome thoughts as she shook my hand with her soft ones.

“Nice to meet you, Carla. “ I responded softly with a smile, delighted to finally know her name at least, before bowing my head and pressing a kiss on the back of her hand.