“I'm sorry, have we met?” she asked, glancing around, glad to see there were other people around them.
“No, not officially. I'm Liam Edenhoff, I live in the building next door,” he explained, and she finally smiled. That's why he was familiar – she must have seen him around.
Katya lived in an apartment building just outside of downtown San Francisco – really it was two buildings, together called Twin Estates. Her building and the one next door were twins. Identical and managed by the same company, they shared an alleyway and dumpsters between them. She'd probably bumped into him while taking out the trash at some point.
But why was he looking for me?
“Oh, hello. I'm Katya,” she introduced herself, but didn't offer her last name.
“I know.”
Creepy just got bumped up to totally weird.
“Oh. Um ...”
“Sorry, I'm coming off totally weird,” he laughed, reading her mind. “I've seen you around the buildings, and then I was on this website, and I saw your profile.”
Oh. Jesus. She was really going to murder her roommate. It was one thing to have a bit of fun and put some naughty stuff up on a website, but when it brought random strange men to where she lived, it was going too far.
“Ooohhh, yeeeaaahh. That website,” she grumbled, finally kneeling down to pick up her bag.
“Yeah. I gotta say, I've noticed you for a while, and I always thought you were …”
“Were what?” she asked, glancing up at him. He shrugged.
“I don't know. Just … I read that profile, and I had to meet that woman.”
Katya wasn't sure what to make of his statement – she was a little insulted that the woman he'd seen around the building hadn't been interesting enough to meet. But she was also a little flattered – and, admittedly, excited – that he'd sought out the woman from the profile.
“So if you hadn't seen my profile, you would never have introduced yourself?” she double checked. He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish.
“Honestly? No. I mean, don't get me wrong, you seemed like a really sweet girl, and you're gorgeous, but I'm not exactly a sweet guy. I didn't want to waste your time, or freak you out,” he said.
“Freak me out?”
“Yeah.”
“How? What do you mean?”
“Well, like I assumed you were a Sunday school teacher or something,” he explained. “I own and operate a club downtown. The two don't exactly match.”
“Sunday school teacher? Why?” she was a little surprised, then was even more so when she watched his gaze blatantly travel up and down her body.
“My other guess was librarian. You just always seemed … sweet. Innocent,” he said.
Sweet and innocent. Translation: boring. Tori was right. I'm dull, and it took a made up online profile to get a guy to notice me.
Katya should've been angry at him. For judging her before he'd met her, solely based on her outward appearance. For perpetuating the stereotype that a woman had to be overtly sexy in order to be interesting. For only giving her the time of day because of some ridiculous website.
But she was actually angry at herself. She felt like a prisoner of her own inhibitions, her own naiveté. She was angry that deep down, she wanted to be an overtly sexual woman, the kind that could draw men in with a single glance.
She wanted to be that woman from her profile bio.
She just didn't know how, and before her anger could boil over, all her carefully built manners and over the top etiquette cooled her off. She managed a tight lipped smile for him.
“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't write that bio,” she told him the truth.
“You didn't?”
“Nope. My roommate did.”
“Ah. Roommate. So I take it you don't do strip-aerobics,” he said with a chuckle. She shook her head.
“I didn't even know that was a real thing.”
He burst out laughing.
“Gotcha. So the whole sweet and innocent thing, that is the real you.”
She opened her mouth, then froze. Was that the real her? Or was that just who she'd convinced herself she needed to be? She was so sick and tired of everyone assuming she was this insipid goody-two-shoes. Tori telling her to get a life. This stranger assuming she was a librarian. It wasn't fair. She could be just as wild, just as fun-loving as the next person. All she needed was the chance.
Take a chance ...
“Just because I don't walk around in a thong bikini doesn't mean I'm all innocence,” she replied. He cocked up an eyebrow.
“I dunno. A baker, huh? You pretty much look like angel food cake to me,” he teased her. She glared at him.
“Was this your big plan? Stalk me down in my building and interrogate me? Is this how you ask out all your dates?” she demanded.
“Who said I was gonna ask you out on a date?” he replied.
“Oh, please. You didn't come over here to ask me about my strip-aerobics class, and we both know it,” she said, proud of herself for the quick and snappy come back.
“Touché. I was going to invite you to my club,” he said. She took a deep breath and for a split second, thought about how early she had to get up for work. Thought about the design she had to work on for a client. Thought about her big plans for the evening – reinforcing all the buttons on her dress shirts.
“I'm free after eight o'clock,” she blurted out. He laughed at her again, and she couldn't help but notice that he had a great laugh, and an even better smile. She'd known him for all of two seconds, but she was willing to bet “fun-loving” was his middle name. The man was made to smile.
“Whoa there, angel cake, I don't think this is such a good idea,” he said, holding up a hand.
“Why not? I love to dance.”
“It's not that kind of club.”
“What? Is it like a book club?”
He laughed again, but she hadn't been joking. She figured he didn't need to know that and she managed to laugh as well.
“Look, you seem like a nice girl. I'm sure you get asked on lots of dates, and if I was a tax attorney, or an insurance salesman, I'd for sure want to go out with you, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” he told her. She rolled her eyes.
“If anyone here is a 'nice girl', it's you – I've made all the moves so far. If you don't want to go out, just say so, and I can move onto the next guy, and you can go to your little club house thingy,” she said.
This was so far out of her comfort zone, she wasn't sure she was still the same Katya anymore. Her Eros profile had come to life and body snatched her. The words coming out of her mouth, the tone of her voice, were completely foreign to her. Yesterday, Katya would have gotten embarrassed. Blushed at the way he talked about her, apologized for taking up his time – even though he'd been the one to stop her.
This new-Katya, though, refused to be embarrassed. He had come there for a reason, to ask her out, so she had nothing to be sorry about, and hell, maybe she would move onto another man. She'd certainly gotten a lot of offers from the website. She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, praying her bravado held out for a few more minutes.