Chapter Fifty-One
Fifty-One
It took Mary just a single cab trip to move all of her stuff from her old apartment in the Dogpatch, to the new one, in Bayview.
Despite still having about a week left on her contract, she chose to make the move on Thursday morning, just five days after Quaddra had shown her the converted warehouse flat.
Quaddra, himself, ended up having to stay in New York City for eight days, but while he was away, he and Mary exchanged text messages, or phone calls, at least once a day.
As soon as he was done with his last engagement, he flew straight back to San Francisco International.
That was one of the many advantages of having his own private jet.
Quaddra never had to wait for a scheduled flight.
In the weeks that followed, their romance blossomed like tulips in April.
When Quaddra wasn’t away, which was something that happened constantly, due to the many businesses and investments that he had scattered all over the country, he and Mary just couldn’t get enough of each other, doing practically everything together – from early morning runs by the Bay and chilled-out film nights at home, to movie premieres and gala dinners with celebrities in completely extravagant surroundings.
Despite Quaddra now knowing exactly where Mary lived, she would stay over at his place a lot more often than he would stay at hers, and within five weeks of what by then had to be considered ‘dating’, the voice inside Mary’s head started to notice a familiar pattern.
Oh, great. Here we go again.
The comment had come a few days ago, just as Mary had used her own set of keys to enter Quaddra’s house before typing an eight-digit alphanumeric code onto the keypad to disarm the alarm.
This is exactly how it all starts. That was exactly how it started with Nelson, remember? Your own set of keys… knowing the alarm code… coming over to his place while he’s still at work… you know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?
‘So? Quaddra is nothing like Nelson?’
The voice inside Mary’s head couldn’t really argue with that statement…
at least not yet. In hindsight, even in the very earlier stages of the dating game, Nelson had already started to show signs that hinted at a narcissistic personality, like the fact that he was always very authoritative, having to have the last word in just about anything – from what they would be having for dinner that night to what outfit would best suit Mary for the evening.
From the very start of their relationship, it was always his way or no way.
Quaddra, on the other hand, was completely different…
at least so far. He’d always listen to Mary’s opinion on everything, having taken her advice on numerous occasions.
He was also always considerate and kind, and way more than once Mary heard him say – ‘You know what? That’s a good point.
I never thought of that. You’re right’ – something that Nelson would never have said, even when he knew that he was wrong.
All I’m saying here is – take it easy, OK? Things seem to be moving just a little bit too fast.
This time, it was Mary who couldn’t argue with the voice inside her head, but she felt happy, something she hadn’t felt in quite some time.
Back at her place, Mary stripped off her running clothes and stepped into the lukewarm shower. She only had ninety minutes to get ready.
She knew that if she went for a run so late in the afternoon, she’d be cutting it really close, but running relaxed her, and she really needed her nerves to settle for the evening because tonight was the night that she had always dreaded, but knew it would be coming sooner or later.
She called it ‘the ceremonial approval’ night.
That was when she would be formally introduced to Quaddra’s close circle of friends as his official girlfriend, and their approval was practically a prerequisite for their relationship to sail on smoothly.
Mary had always hated those nights. She could delay them, but there was no escaping them. Every relationship had one, and tonight Quaddra had arranged for an ‘informal’ cheese and wine night at his house.
‘Just a few close friends, that’s all.’ Those had been his exact words. ‘It will be a nice, relaxed evening.’
But Mary knew that the evening would be anything but relaxing.
She’d been there before, and the format to such ‘approval nights’ was always the same, regardless of them being a small cheese and wine get-together, or a large ballroom party.
Sometime during the course of the evening, everyone in that cheese and wine party would somehow find themselves alone with Mary – in a corner, in a room, in the kitchen, by the pool outside, in the hallway…
it didn’t matter – they would all get their five minutes with the ‘new girl’, in which they would interrogate her as if she were a criminal.
Mary was sure that she’d have no problems with any of Quaddra’s male friends – she was undeniably attractive, intelligent and very charming…
when she wanted to be. Guys tended to always gravitate towards her, and she knew that she could win them over without even trying.
But women? That was a completely different ball game.
Most women she’d ever met actually hated the fact that she was beautiful, intelligent and charming.
And from the conversations that she’d had with Quaddra since they’d started properly dating, she got the impression that most of his female friends had, at some point, tried their luck with him, and Mary knew from experience that the kind of jealousy that derived from – ‘what the fuck does she have that I don’t?
’ – was rarely beatable. The fact that Mary seemed to have come out of nowhere to win Quaddra’s heart, with nobody having ever met or heard of her before, would not sit well with any of his female friends.
But other women’s jealousy, bitching and bickering were nothing new to Mary.
She got out of the shower, blow-dried her hair and chose a simple but very effective outfit – black skater dress that effortlessly added emphasis to her hourglass silhouette, and beige, ankle-strap, stilettos.
That was it. She needed nothing else to look stunning.
The makeup, she kept modest, allowing her natural beauty to shine through.
All she did was accentuate her lips and her eyes, which were, once again, back to their original bright blue color – no more contact lenses.
Are you ready for this? the voice asked, as Mary adjusted her dress, checking herself in the full-length mirror by her apartment door.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’ She reached for her handbag.
Good. Let’s go do this.