Chapter 4 #3
Angela had very much wanted to talk to him about the flowers.
But in doing so, she didn’t want to appear intrusive.
She had been, after all, snooping in his things.
How could she address this issue without seeming paranoid?
She thought she should leave it alone which was why she hadn’t mentioned it yet.
But yet, it kept nagging at her. She just had to come out with it.
“Robert, do you remember getting me flowers for Valentine’s Day?” she asked, trying to appear aloof.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, I found a crumpled up receipt in the laundry room.” A little white lie.
He didn’t make eye contact with her.
“Anyway... it was for flowers dated February 14th,” she explained.
He hesitated a bit. “Um....oh yes... I remember,” he said. “I bought you flowers, but they wilted in the car so I trashed them.”
“Oh... well, thanks... I guess.”
At first, it seemed like a fair enough explanation but the more she thought about it, the more it didn’t fit.
The Nancy Drew in her took over as she considered it.
How could the flowers wilt in February, one of the coldest months of the year?
If anything, they would freeze. Although, maybe if they had been left long enough in the car without water, it could have happened, she supposed.
The rest of the ride was quite silent, only the sound of the radio could be heard.
She was looking forward to seeing Krysta.
They were going downtown to a club with her and her new boyfriend.
Angela hadn’t been downtown for quite a while.
She always loved driving to the city, the sight of skyscrapers and the tower thrilled her, bringing her back to her younger days living downtown.
Robert found a parking lot and paid the $10.
00 fee. As they made their way to the club, they walked side by side, not holding hands.
The night was setting. Angela took in the views and sounds of the city, the people and the streetcars.
She always marveled at the mix of new and old architecture surrounding her.
She much preferred the old; so much more detail, more beauty and character.
As they reached the club, Krysta greeted them.
“Hi, Robert... Hi, sweetie. Long time no see, Robert,” she said, hugging him.
She wore a long tweed jacket with a hot pink turtleneck. She opened her jacket to reveal a super short tweed mini skirt.
“Nice.” Angela wished she had the guts to wear something like that.
“Well, they say you can’t wear a mini skirt after thirty-five,” Krysta observed “…and I say they’re full of crap.”
Angela didn’t realize there was an unwritten law against wearing mini skirts but if so, she was willing to obey it. “I could never pull off that look,” she told Krysta, a little envious.
“Oh you can. You just think you can’t,” Krysta teased. “Come with me guys.”
She walked up to a tall man by the door; a young attractive man. Angela thought he was either very young or he had great genes. He had tight curly hair, a goatee and a prominent nose.
“This is Adam.” She made the introductions. “This is my best friend Angela and her fiancé Robert.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, flashing a toothy smile. “Let’s go in.”
They walked pass the line to get in. Angela felt like a movie star for about three seconds.
The place was loud and crowded. It had been a while for Angela; the bar scene.
Some strange techno music with a hypnotic rhythm was playing, and weird imagery glowed on the projection screen.
This would definitely not be the club Angela would have chosen if it had been up to her.
She would have been happier in that moment, cozying up to a movie at home.
They met up with a few people whose names Angela quickly forgot.
It didn’t take too long for Krysta to abandon them.
They made an effort to make small talk with Adam.
“So what kind of art do you do?” Angela asked, stretching her neck to yell in his ear.
The music was so loud.
“Mixed media; I do a mix of photography, digital media and watercolors...” he explained. “Local scenes. Toronto landscapes mostly.”
“Sounds good. I’d love to see it,” Angela told him, genuine.
“You live in the suburbs, don’t you?” he asked.
“Thirty minutes North or so,” she told him. “I’m not much of an urbanite anymore.”
A tall blonde cut in and whispered something in his ear. Angela suddenly became invisible.
“Well, nice talking to you,” Angela screamed as he walked away.
“A little rude, wasn’t he?” Robert commented.
And that was the last of Adam Angela saw for the night.
He did chat up Robert for a while later in the evening.
Krysta made her appearance a few times and dragged Angela on the dance floor, by force.
But throughout the evening, Angela mostly stood there on her own, stiff, uncomfortable and wondering why no one other than her best friend was asking her to dance.
Michael had called Christine Thompson to give her a heads up about Angela.
He knew as he was dialing her number that he should probably not be.
Angela had said she wanted to get this job on her own, but he couldn’t help himself.
He thought she was such a great fit for the job.
After he made the call, he regretted it instantly.
These past few weeks, he had been telling himself he was simply enjoying the view.
But he had done a lot more than enjoy the view; he had gotten much more involved than he should have been.
He was getting in a little too deep. He was falling for her.