Chapter 7 #2
“You look amazing,” he told her. He corrected himself. “Um... you look nice.” She wasn’t sure what to say.
“You too.” He certainly did.
“Um...” Krysta broke in. Yes, there were other people in the room.
“You must be Michael,” Krysta noted, smiling.
He shook her hand, curious.
“I’m Krysta, Angela’s long time friend.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Krysta is Madison’s mom,” Angela clarified.
“Oh, she’s just adorable,” he offered, remembering his time with Madison.
“Thank you. She can be a pain sometimes but she is pretty cute,” Krysta joked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for his mystery date; a tall gorgeous red head. “This is my sister Irene,” he explained. “She lives in the city.”
“Oh... great! We were wondering who your mystery date was,” Krysta told him.
Angela wanted to bury her face in her shawl. Krysta had managed to embarrass her already.
“Irene, this is a friend of Mum’s, Angela,” he told his sister.
Irene had a graceful beauty and Angela saw a younger Dot in her. Her sparkling blue eyes were inviting; they were just like Michael’s.
“It’s a pleasure.” She flashed a bright smile. The woman was beautiful.
“How do you know our mother?” she asked.
“We’re kind of reading buddies...” The relationship was a bit too complex to explain.
“So what brings you here?” Michael addressed both of them.
“My boyfriend Adam is the wonderful, amazing artist.”
“I’m just tagging along,” Angela told him.
“So how long have you two known each other?” he asked Krysta.
“Since college; this girl used to be a wild one,” she told him.
“If you can believe it...” she joked.
“Oh, I believe it,” he said, smiling at Angela.
“So Michael... are you single?” Krysta always got straight to the point.
“Um...yes,” he answered, stunned by her forwardness.
Irene chuckled a bit.
“Because we weren’t sure; Angela said she thought you were but she wasn’t sure.”
Krysta had officially embarrassed her beyond repair.
Angela wished she was a turtle who could crawl into her shell at the instance of any peril or in this case; extreme humiliation.
Those few words said so much. They conveyed that Angela had been talking about him; that he had been on her radar. This, she did not want him to know.
“A good looking guy like you... I don’t believe it.” Krysta was flirting at her own boyfriend’s art opening.
“Michael gave her an uncomfortable smile.”
“Your boyfriend’s work is truly fantastic,” Irene said, looking past her at the works on the walls and engaged Krysta into conversation.
Michael took a few steps forward to take a closer look. Angela followed him with her almost empty glass of white. They stood beside one another in silence, their gazes fixed on the canvases. Angela didn’t quite know what to say.
“So you’ve been talking about me,” he teased.
Angela knew he would bring it up. It was not like him to beat around the bush. That was her department.
“Well... you know... Krysta’s my best friend. We talk about everything. She knows everything, right down to the last mundane detail.”
“Mundane detail... interesting. Is that what I am?”
“Oh no. I wish.”
He was making her uncomfortable again.
“Oh look at that, my glass is empty. Looks like I need a refill,” she told him as she ran off.
He followed her, leaving his sister in conversation with Krysta.
Angela got herself a second glass of wine.
“So did you know I would be here tonight?” he asked her.
She took a step back. “Of course not,” she said truthfully.
“But what are the odds? There are a lot of people in this city.”
“I guess we’re both art lovers.” She thought about it. What were the odds? Was it fate? Did she even believe in fate?
“Seriously, I’m not stalking you,” she joked.
She took a step closer. “You are a good-looking man but not that good-looking,” she said, smiling. She was flirting again, sending mixed signals. Her inhibitions were down. The wine had taken effect.
He liked it.
“Not stalking worthy?” he joked.
“I’m afraid not.”
They turned their attention to Adam’s art.
They were looking at a somewhat odd building which was quite familiar to Angela.
“I would definitely buy this one. This is my favorite one,” Angela told him.
“Why that one?”
“I love this building. This is the one on Front Street, downtown; the flatiron building. Its shape is so interesting, don’t you think?”
“It is; it’s great.”
“There was this little bar in there. I’m not sure if it’s still there. This is the place Krysta and I used to hang out. We had some great nights there.”
“Some wild nights I’m sure,” he teased.
“Well, contrary to Krysta’s information, they weren’t that wild.” She laughed. “Just great memories, that’s all.”
“The good old days,” he said.
She sighed.
He took a step closer to her. She could smell his distinctive scent, a so delicious. She closed her eyes for a second. Why did she find herself besides him right at that moment?
She felt warm. Was it the wine or the gorgeous man standing next to her? They stood in silence for a while, not saying a word but processing so many thoughts.
“Listen Angela...”
She looked at him.
“Can I be honest with you?”
She nodded.
“The reason you haven’t really seen me this past week is that I’m purposely staying away.”
“Why?” she asked. She wanted him to say the words.
“You know why.”
She just wanted him to say the words.
“Do you want me to say it?”
Yes, say it.
“Every minute, I think of you. I can’t get you off my mind. It’s driving me insane,” he said, breathless.
“I think about you too, all the time,” she confessed.
“What do you think about?” he asked, curious.
“Well...we’re...um... not exactly playing Scrabble.”
He smiled and looked away.
“It’s just not appropriate; what we’re doing,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Anyway, this is why I’ll keep staying away.”
She felt a dull pain deep in her stomach. She wanted to pull him to her and kiss him.
“That would probably be best,” she said. “We will see each other at Dot’s party tomorrow? I’m still invited, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“But I’ll be staying away from you,” he added.
With that, he walked away.
Angela went to seek out her best friend. She wanted to tell her everything; she needed someone to confide in. She felt so hurt. Her eyes were welling up but she was determined not to let her emotions get the best of her.
“Are you crying?” Krysta asked, confused.
“No, it’s just the smoke, you know.” There was no smoke, thanks to a city by-law.
“There are so many people I want you to meet.”
Angela met quite of few of Adam’s friends throughout the evening; arty types mostly.
They talked, in large, about Adam’s wonderful talent.
Yawn. Mostly, she took the opportunity to snack on cheese and crackers and more wine of course.
She tried her best to keep her eyes off Michael. This was extremely hard.
The first sign she was a bit tipsy was a forward discussion about art and the pretentiousness of it; how a few dabs of paint by a pompous ‘it’ arty type could be revered and sold for thousands of dollars, while a true to life painting carefully created in hours of painstaking effort by an unknown elderly woman living on a small farm could be worthless.
No surprise, she wasn’t the most well received guest at the gallery.
Through out the evening, as much as she tried not to, she spotted Michael speaking with Adam and various other people including the gallery owner.
Krysta was even tipsier than Angela at the end of the night. She was the designated driver for the evening. Angela hadn’t paid attention to her friend downing glasses of wine throughout the evening. She had been preoccupied.
“Are you drunk?” Angela asked
Krysta hobbled over and leaned her arm around her best friend.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” she slurred.
“You certainly did. I can’t drive either. I think I’m over the limit too,” Angela told her, furious.
“I called my mom. She can stay overnight with Madison so I’m gonna crash at Adam’s tonight,” she said slowly.
“Well, what about me?”
“Well, I spoke to your good friend Michael over there.” She gave her a cheeky smile. “He says he can give you a lift.”
“What?!” Angela didn’t know what to think. “I hate you.”