Chapter Five Katy
Chapter Five
Katy
Katy left the apartment around eight that night, freshly showered and wearing a strapless navy minidress.
Her hair was down, puffier than usual from the heat of the hairdryer and the humidity of the new city.
She was meeting Mason for a drink at the Please Don’t Tell bar, so she hopped in a classic yellow taxi for the fifteen-minute journey to the East Village to meet him.
As the car took her through the streets, she admired the city.
She passed by the massive buildings with butterflies raging in her stomach, desperate to explore.
Part of her didn’t even care about the pitch; she just wanted to spend time in New York with her friends, scoping out the American men and this crazy city they lived in.
As the car pulled up outside a hot dog shop, Katy got out, feeling confused. She took out her phone and texted Mason.
Katy: I’m at the address, but can’t find the bar? Maybe I told the driver wrong? X
She glanced along the bustling street, squinting her eyes. Fuck, lost in New York was not what she had hoped for.
Mason: Go down into the Crif Dogs, turn left at the phone booth and dial 1. I promise I’m not luring you to your death x
She had been messaging Mason for only a day since she’d updated her Tinder location settings to New York.
He was American, but was in the city for work tonight, so this was the only chance they had to spend together.
Mason was cute and kind, immediately commenting on how pretty and natural she was in her photos.
Even if she had Snapchat-filtered the life out of herself, she took the compliment.
To Katy, it felt like a movie plot: how they’d meet up once and have a perfect night together, only to go their separate ways, always wondering what could have happened if they weren’t ordinarily separated by the Atlantic Ocean.
Realistically, deep down, she knew Mason was probably after a quick pump in a hotel room while he was travelling, but who knew?
He could be the one. She liked his cute, shy demeanour combined with his endless flow of compliments.
He asked lots of questions about her, not like the usual Scottish men who spent half their conversations boasting about how much they could lift at the gym or how big their dick was.
Mason seemed respectful and genuinely interested in everything Katy had to say.
She liked him, and she hadn’t even met him yet.
She turned towards the Crif Dogs hot dog shop and walked down the steps to enter.
Slight hesitation clouded over her as she wondered if she was about to be trafficked by a New York street gang and live off hot dogs for the rest of her life.
Even if the second part of that option felt slightly appealing, she didn’t fancy the first. The shop was busy with a small queue of people waiting for food.
She walked a few more steps inside and spotted a large vintage wooden phone booth, just as Mason had described.
It looked more like decoration than anything else.
Was this a prank? Get the Scottish dafty to enter a phone box, dial a number, so that anyone watching could have a good laugh at her expense? Katy started to feel anxious.
Mason: Are you there? Dial 1. Excited to see you x
She took a breath. Katy, you have one life. Get a grip. She entered the phone box and dialled ‘1’ on the antique red phone, cautiously glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
Suddenly, one of the walls of the booth opened, revealing a secret passage, inside which a petite, smiling waitress was waiting to greet her.
‘Welcome to Please Don’t Tell. Come on in,’ she said, leading Katy into a chilled-out cocktail bar.
Katy grinned from ear to ear, hearing inexplicably cool jazz music surround her. She took a few more steps inside and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Wow.
‘Hey there.’ A blond man with dark brown eyes approached her. He was about six foot tall, wearing a white Ralph Lauren shirt, belt and combat-style trousers. He looked exactly like his Tinder pictures, or even slightly better.
‘Hi, Mason,’ Katy said, grinning. ‘This place is amazing!’ She was still taking it all in. The only secret parties she had ever attended were in her teenage years, when she would hide out in gaffs, often ending up in someone’s gran’s dusty old cupboard, waiting for the police to disappear.
‘Wow, your accent is so cute.’ Mason held his chest, then leaned in to kiss Katy on the cheek. ‘And you!’ he said, stepping back, his dark eyes scanning her body. ‘You look even better in real life,’ he added, with a devilish faux-swoon.
Katy blushed, feeling grateful.
‘So do you!’ She returned the compliment. ‘I can’t believe this place is inside a hot dog shop!’ She laughed. ‘I thought I was about to get trafficked.’
‘Trafficked?’ Mason beamed, leading her to a cosy booth. ‘No, I usually wait till the roofies kick in before I traffic my women. Makes them a lot more cooperative.’
Katy gasped, laughing hard. ‘Wow, you’re a sicko! I love that!’
‘I ordered you a drink. It’s minty. I know you like a mojito!’ Mason pushed a cold cocktail glass towards Katy and lifted his own bottle of beer.
‘How did you know I liked them? And thank you.’ She smiled, immediately raising the delicious cocktail to her lips.
‘Agh, you got me!’ He blushed, taking a sip of his drink. ‘Is it bad if I say I’ve spent most of my day looking at your photographs?’
Katy shook her head. ‘Not bad. Slightly creepy, but not bad.’
They shared a laugh, then continued drinking and making small talk for a few more rounds.
She found the time slipping away as his easy demeanour and generous personality shone through.
There was something about him that made him so captivating.
Katy wasn’t sure if it was his accent, his confidence or his masculine appearance, but she knew one thing for sure – there weren’t men like Mason kicking about the Barras.
‘So, where are you from anyway?’ Katy asked, enjoying another cocktail from the menu.
‘Pennsylvania, born and bred. Have you been?’
‘No! This is my first time in America, but I think Pennsylvania looks amazing. It must be cool at Halloween.’
Mason tilted his head. ‘Halloween?’
‘Do you not get a lot of tourists? With the whole Dracula side of it?’
Mason just about spat his drink across the table, making Katy jump in surprise.
‘What?’
Mason was regaining composure. ‘Sorry. Wrong continent. You’re thinking of Transylvania, but fuck living there – far too spooky!’
Katy blushed, feeling hideously embarrassed.
‘Pennsylvania isn’t too far from New York, but I only have to commute to HQ once a month, so I don’t spend a lot of time here. Have you always lived in Scotland?’ Mason asked, still chuckling.
Katy nodded. ‘Yeah, Glasgow. Have you ever been?’
‘I’ve been to St Andrews for a golf tournament but didn’t get to go to Glasgow.’ Mason smiled. ‘I loved St Andrews, though. The people and the views – it was a beautiful place.’
Katy agreed, smiling as she remembered the last time she visited St Andrews. She’d been thrown out of the caravan park for pissing against someone’s van after a crazy night out with Zola and Ella. No golf was involved.
‘And what do you think of New York?’ Mason asked, sipping his beer.
‘Honestly, I haven’t seen it yet. We arrived, went to the apartment, then I got ready to meet you. This is the first place I’ve come.’
‘Oh, you have got to be joking! How long are you visiting?’ he asked.
‘A few days, well, it depends on how our work goes out here. I don’t want to bore you with work chat, but we sort of have an interview tomorrow. We don’t really know what to expect, but they said we’d be here for at least a few days.’
Mason paused, deep in thought, biting his lip.
‘What? What have I said now?’ Katy laughed.
‘Fuck it, let’s go!’ He stood up, lifted his beer, began chugging it down.
Katy stood too, wondering what was going on, giggling with him. ‘What! What are we doing?’
Mason shook his head. ‘Katy, you have a couple of days in New York, and I’m honoured – truly honoured – that you’re spending your first night with me. But, in good faith, I can’t let you miss out on the greatest city in the world because of me. So, grab your purse, and let’s go sightseeing!’
Katy burst out laughing as Mason threw a pile of notes down on the table and grabbed her hand.
‘Come on, I’m serious, baby!’ He marched her back out of the bar, through the secret passage and into Lower Manhattan.
The street had turned dark, and flickers of lights surrounded them from the street signs above. Mason stood closer as her giggles subsided.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he said. ‘You deserve to see this city in style.’
Katy’s heart pounded as she felt his breath hit her face; she could feel her clit pulse between her legs as they stared at one another. Was he about to hail a taxi to start cruising them through New York?
Suddenly, Mason turned and let out a loud, high-pitched whistle, making Katy flinch and cover her ears. Just like magic, a young man cycling a rickshaw emerged out of the traffic and came zooming towards them.
‘After you, please.’ Mason gestured for Katy to step onto the tiny vehicle, which had bright, fluffy pink seats and a glittery roof.
‘You’re serious?’
‘Deadly!’ He held his hand out for her to step in.
Katy paused and grinned. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘Central Park, please, buddy. And you can take the scenic route,’ Mason instructed the driver, then sat back, pressed tightly against Katy.
‘Welcome to New York, Katy,’ he said and pressed his soft lips to hers.
Their first kiss was just a slow peck, but Katy could feel the passion sizzle between them.
The chemistry, the undeniable connection.
Mason had captivated every bit of her mind, body and soul, and knowing she would only get to spend this one night with him made it all the more special.