CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“So, before we go in, can I assume you’ve got a video to show me?” Gabe asked after they’d parked.
“Video? Oh, right, yes,” Liz replied, fishing her phone out of her pocket and navigating it quickly. “I’m guessing Ellen already showed you her video. We actually recorded this like right after hers. Here.”
Gabe watched it and saw that this was true. It was clear they’d just swapped Ellen for Liz, and now she was holding the camera. They had basically the same thing to say about this mystery woman that Liz had discovered.
“I appreciate it,” he said, passing her the phone.
“I’m glad.” She smiled suddenly as they got out and started walking towards the restaurant. “I’m so glad that we can do this. That we can just...say stuff. Talk about stuff plainly. I’ve always hated how much is sub-textual, or just not discussed at all.”
“It does make things easier.”
They walked inside. It was a place that served mostly soup and sandwiches.
Now that he was actually here, Gabe was reluctant to call it fancy, because he felt like that would have spoken too much to his impoverished past, but it was definitely a step up from a fast food place.
He found himself scanning the sea of faces as they walked up to the...
greeter? He wasn’t actually sure what you called the person who stood there behind the podium and told you whether or not you had to wait.
He saw several attractive women, though none of them were sitting alone. Maybe she hadn’t gotten here yet.
Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait, and also thankfully, Liz handled the talking.
As far as he’d come, Gabe knew he was still kind of awkward.
A moment later, a waitress was summoned and they were guided into the restaurant.
They moved between booths and tables, past people quieting chatting and eating their dinner.
And then he saw her.
She had a table in a side room that was a little more intimate, mostly because it was smaller and had no other people.
She was…
Different.
She kind of looked like a news anchor.
She was put together in a way he had never seen from any of the others (except perhaps Ellen).
In their own way, they all had their own style and they all cleaned up nice, as the saying went.
But there was a limit to that. Liz and Krystal both were too entrenched in their own styles to dress up like a news anchor or reporter.
He thought that the others could, if they really wanted to, but none of them did for their own reasons.
This woman looked like she was prepared for...something really important. His mind was short-circuiting a little. She was attractive in a way he’d rarely encountered up close, in real life. When she saw them, she stood, offering an awkward smile, and he got a full look at her.
She was tall, that was the first thing he noticed, about his height of six feet.
Her skin was very pale, but less in that ‘dying in winter’ pale and more of that ‘healthy glow’ pale.
She had a very nice figure, showcased expertly in a sleek red dress that showed just a bit of cleavage.
Her auburn hair was down, framing her face, which was remarkably beautiful.
Full lips, good proportions, green eyes that seemed to shine, almost like they were backlit.
And, oh lord, her belly.
She wasn’t incredibly pregnant, but he’d guess she was somewhere near the middle of her pregnancy.
“Hi,” she said, and what a voice she had. Just a little deep, that perfect amount that could effortlessly convey authority or sultry sexuality. “I’m Karen.”
“Gabe,” he said, stepping up to her and offering his hand.
She smiled and shook it without missing a beat. “It’s good to meet you.”
“It’s really good to meet you,” he replied, and she laughed, her face reddening very slightly beneath her makeup. He almost couldn’t tell she had any on.
God, she looked like she’d stepped off the glossy cover of a magazine. And her smell. He normally didn’t think too much about how a woman smelled, but she smelled amazing. Some wonderful blend of no doubt very expensive and carefully crafted shampoo, soap, and perfume.
“Thank you. Hello, Liz,” she said, smiling at her.
“Hello, Karen.”
Gabe found it interesting that Karen’s certainty seemed to slip a notch or two when she greeted Liz. But that made sense, given what they were going to be getting up to.
“Hopefully you haven’t been waiting long,” Liz offered as they all sat down.
“No, just a few minutes. You both look nice.”
“You look amazing,” Gabe replied.
“Thank you,” she replied with an easy smile.
He saw her eyes flick to Liz and she lost a fraction of the smile.
This was an interesting dynamic. He was used to confident women, and he was also used to women being awkward around him, but she seemed to have no issue handling how she felt about him.
Liz, on the other hand? Well, she was acting like most people would, he imagined.
Liz was kind of a staggeringly hot tomboy.
She seemed quietly pleased with the attention.
For a moment, nothing happened. Gabe suspected that they were all waiting for the other to say something.
Liz had just about begun to open her mouth to get the ball rolling when the waitress returned with their drinks.
He realized that he didn’t even remember ordering the drink and saw that he’d gotten himself water. Well, that was fine.
She took their orders and disappeared once more.
“So,” Liz said, “I figure we can just...talk plainly. Karen, you already know about me, and I’ve answered a fair amount of questions about Gabe, so I think it’s fair to ask you to talk about yourself some.”
“That is very reasonable,” Karen replied, looking grateful.
She cleared her throat and straightened up a little.
She had a lot of poise. It wasn’t just the looks that reminded him of a news anchor or reporter.
“My name is Karen Whitman. I’m thirty five years old.
I’m a consultant. At least, that’s what it says on paper.
In truth, I’m one of the ‘faces’ of my company.
I work for an advertising company, which requires a lot of interface with a lot of different other companies and groups and individuals. My job is to basically translate.”
She paused, then took a drink. It was interesting seeing someone who was no doubt often graceful under pressure suddenly being nervous because of a pretty woman.
“In short, I make sure that the people who are working with us understand what we want, and that our people understand what they want. Mostly my job is to look pretty, learn random stuff front to back, and figure out how to explain it based on the person in question. What they struggle with, what they just don’t understand, what they’re misunderstanding.
My job is to ensure we’re all on the same page, basically. ”
“That’s...an interesting job,” Gabe murmured. He wasn’t sure he’d actually heard of something like that, but it made sense why it would exist.
“Certainly it is, yes,” Karen replied, offering him a winning smile. She paused suddenly, then sighed. “God, I’m doing it again.”
“A little,” Liz admitted.
“Doing what?” Gabe asked.
“I promised myself that I wasn’t going to be...switched on during this. I don’t want to treat this like my job. I’m just finding that it’s...difficult. I don’t want to seem insincere.”
“I believe your sincerity so far,” Gabe replied. “If that helps.”
She laughed, and it did sound more real, more...
vulnerable. “It does, actually. Um, so, that’s me.
I’ll answer questions if you want. I admit, I don’t really know the procedure for this.
I’ve never done anything like this before.
It’s kind of like a date, except there’s three people, and we already know we’re... going to have fun.”
“If it will help put you at ease at all: I don’t entirely know how to handle stuff like this, either. Every time I get myself involved in something like this, there’s definitely a part of me that feels like I just got tossed in the deep end.”
“Really? That’s interesting. I thought you would have had more confidence given your...experience.” She paused, then sighed softly. “I did not mean that as an insult.”
“I didn’t take it as one. Don’t worry, we’re both very chill.
Easy to get along with, hard to provoke.
So long as we feel like you’re treating us fairly, we’ll be happy, and happy to do the same.
I want to take the pressure off of this as much as possible.
If you decide that you don’t want to do this, or you need more time, that will be fine. Neither of us will be angry.”
“Okay, so...you definitely seem like you know what you’re doing,” Karen murmured.
“Yeah,” Liz agreed.
Gabe began to respond, then hesitated. Was it possible that this was just reflexive? This need to inform new people that he didn’t actually know what he was doing and was sort of just fumble-fucking his way through everything?
Was he? Or did he actually know what he was doing now? Had enough time passed, enough practice been had?
“I guess so,” he replied finally. “I guess...I’m always cautious about anything involving women and sex of any kind. Besides the handful of things that have happened to me, I’ve heard so many stories.”
“Like what?” Karen asked.
He sighed. “Like...ghosting. Guy goes on a date with a woman, everything seems fine, they plan for the next date, and the time comes around and...she never shows up, never responds, never does anything. Just gone. Poof. For no obvious reason. Or others where a guy gets to talking with a woman, a coworker, a classmate, someone at a function or whatever, and they seem to be hitting it off really well, and he decides to do what everyone always suggest and ‘make a move’, and then she just blows up at him like he flashed her his dick or something. It’s just...
women can be worryingly unpredictable, I have found. ”
“Ah. I understand what you’re saying. It’s a complicated situation.
But what you’re describing is...it’s sort of like putting two plus two into a calculator and getting five.
It makes no sense. You did everything right, but the answer is completely incompatible with the steps taken to get it.
What’s often happening is that something is going on behind the scenes that you aren’t aware of. ”
“Like what?”
“I’d say the most common situation that’s happening is that the woman in question either thought that the interaction was non-romantic, or, in cases of dates, she thought she was cool with it, but somewhere along the way, over the course of the date, she realized it wasn’t going to work out.
Now, the thing is, on average, women are really good at masking.
We all grew up being told not to make a fuss, not to let our emotions get out of control, stop being hysterical, we’re better seen, not heard... you get it.”
He nodded. This wasn’t going in a happy direction, but Karen actually seemed engaged and, more than that, relaxed. She was in her element.
“So we’re very good at making it seem like everything is going fine throughout the whole date and then, after...
well, ghosting comes from either emotional immaturity or fear.
Fear that the man will blow up and possibly become violent if we reject him.
And that’s just one reason. I imagine a lot of it might also come from trauma.
A lot of women have been abused. That can have a lot of intense, unpredictable side effects.
So it’s possible that when a situation is attempting to be turned romantic, their brain goes kind of haywire because of PTSD and they panic.
It’s a complicated issue, and I can understand your hesitation. ”
Karen paused, frowned, looked slightly uncomfortable. “That conversation got dark. This is why I so often stay on script.”
“One of the things about us is that we are comfortable with going off script. In fact, we don’t really want a script,” Gabe replied. “We want...authenticity. And with authenticity comes awkwardness, stumbles, uncomfortable moments, darkness. And we accept that.”
“Oh. Good. I’m glad to hear that. It’s honestly a relief. In some ways I love my job, but in other ways I hate it. I hate how fake everything is. Being able to BS your way through something while you’re pissed or hurt or exhausted is extremely useful, but I don’t like actually doing it.”
“Yeah, that gets old fast,” Liz muttered.
“I feel like we got off-topic,” Karen said after a moment.
“That happens a lot around us. Um, my original point was...right. I think maybe I’m just used to not being good at this kind of stuff, but now I’ve had enough practice at it that I’m decent at it by now, and it’s just reflex saying I’m not,” Gabe replied.
“Also, I was kinda curious...what prompted you to do this?”
“Ah. Yes.” Now Karen looked vaguely embarrassed.
She sighed. “I’m sorry if I seem weird about this, I was just...
raised in a very religious household. Where everything was a sin.
Liking girls was a sin. Cursing was a sin.
Being late was a sin. Sleeping in, not paying attention even though you didn’t mean to, trying to defend yourself in any way...
eating fucking ice cream was a sin.” She looked at Liz.
“There was definitely a reason I never really talked about my youth.”
“Um, wow,” Liz said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah…” Gabe murmured, getting deeply uncomfortable flashbacks to Holly and her family.
“I got out from under their shadow as fast as I could. Got lucky and got a scholarship. But their...influence, never completely faded. So I get weird about things sometimes.”
“That’s totally fine,” Gabe said, and Liz nodded.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. Then she cleared her throat and straightened up.
“I’ve always been bi-curious. For as long as I thought about sex, I found myself thinking about boys a lot, but also girls sometimes.
I’ve always wanted to do something about it, but except for one brief makeout session at a party that ended too abruptly, I haven’t done anything.
I’ve always been...too scared. And I guess when Liz contacted me again with the offer, it just sort of hit me like a brick: I am about to be a mother.
A single mother. I have some friends, and I have a cousin who also got away from our family, and she’s really nice, but I’m going it alone.
And I can. I can do it. I think. But it’s going to take my all, and I’m not going to have much time for...
fun. So I figured, why not? Just go for it, Liz is insanely hot, and you’re pretty damn cute, and your relationship sounds so interesting. ”
“That makes sense,” Gabe replied.
He found himself feeling bad for her, because being a parent seemed hard enough when there were two of you.
But then the waitress returned with their food.