“Yeah?” Liam called out.
“Hiya, it's me – I brought you lunch, just wanted to drop it off,” she called back. There was an odd pause. No one was talking, but it sounded like Liam was trying very hard not to laugh.
“Through there, yeah. It's fine,” his voice was low, obviously talking to his guest. Then he cleared his throat. “What are you doing? If you've got food, woman, then by all means, get in here!”
Katya toed open the door and glanced around. Liam was sitting behind a big desk, smiling up at her, his hands linked together behind his head. There were some liquor boxes stacked against one wall, and a life-sized cardboard cut out of a beer wench, but no other human beings.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking around again. “I thought you had someone in here with you.”
“Oh yeah, my business partner.”
“I don't want to interrupt anything.”
“Trust me, you're not. He's supposed to be a silent partner, but he's been busting my balls lately,” Liam explained. There was a loud coughing noise from behind a door in the far corner, then a toilet flushed.
“I didn't know you had a partner,” she said, finally dropping the bags of food onto his desk top.
“Yeah. When I wanted to buy the club, I didn't really know what I was doing. Never owned a business before, any of that stuff. Didn't know how to get the capital for it. Needed some investors. He backed me on the whole thing, so he gets his name on the license, on the lease,” Liam said, leaning forward to grab a card out of a holder. He held it out to her and she turned it over in her hands after she took it.
“Richard Mason?” she said his name out loud.
“Yeah. Riiiicky, as he hates to be called,” Liam stretched out the name. “He's a good guy, means well. Just gets under my skin.”
“Well, I'll leave you two alone so you can commence with the skin irritation,” she said, re-shouldering her gym bag and backing up towards the door.
“Wanna meet him? I'm sure he'll be done in a second,” Liam offered.
“Like this? No, thank you,” she laughed, gesturing to her crazy hair and her gym clothes. “Tell him I said sorry, though, and that I hope he likes tacos.”
“I think you look great,” Liam said.
“You would, you have horrible taste.”
“Roof top tonight?”
“We'll see.”
“Okay, meet you there at two.”
“I am not going to the roof at two in the morning.”
“Good point, it'll probably be closer to three when I get out of here.”
“I'm not meeting you up there.”
Katya left his bar with every intention of going home and taking shower and going over her budget, then catching a movie with Tori and going to bed early.
She managed everything but the bed part. Of course she found herself on the roof at two-thirty, throwing back beers and laughing at Liam's stupid jokes. He'd made good on his word and a well-worn loveseat had been brought up for them, as well as an old corduroy couch. Katya fell asleep on the couch, and woke up in the middle of Liam attempting to carry her downstairs and almost dropping her as he got off the elevator.
Good times.
The rest of the week was a blur. She made good on her promise to herself to hold off on sex – it was one thing to get adventurous and a little loose with her morals. It was quite another to become a raging sex fiend. She wouldn't allow Liam to come to any more of the strip-aerobics classes, even though he begged.
“What did you do before you met me? Did you have a life?”
“Angel cake, I still have a life. I just worry that you might spontaneously combust if I told you about it.”
Wulf even made an appearance, on Thursday. Right after she'd gotten home from work, she'd been setting up her nail kit in her room when there'd been a knock at her front door. Assuming it was the Chinese food she'd ordered, she'd opened the door with money in her hand. Then she'd gaped as Wulf had stared down at her.
He'd gotten off work a little early, and had decided he wanted to see what she was up to – he hadn't expected her to be in pajamas at only five-thirty at night. She'd pointed out that normal human beings called before just showing up at other peoples' houses. Would he like it if she showed up at his apartment?
“If you took off the pajamas first, yes.”
He stuck around, ate Chinese food with her. Scared Tori a little, with his quiet demeanor and very direct stare. Then he'd followed Katya into her room and after watching her do her nails for a while, he'd taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, then told her it had been ages since he'd had a manicure.
It was silly, but while it was happening, Katya could feel something. It was a moment. A memory in the making. Something she would hold onto long after Wulf was gone. Them together in her room, surrounded by her feminine décor, sitting on her bed, both fully clothed. Him watching her carefully while she looked at his hands intently.
I can feel his stare. Like hands on my body. He's touching me.
While she pushed back cuticles and filed nails, they talked. He asked a lot of questions about her time in school, about learning to bake. He seemed particularly curious as to how she'd known it was her passion. How could she be so sure baking was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life? Didn't she worry the bottom might fall out of the market?
She'd just laughed at him and told him what she'd always told herself – if it's her dream, who cares what else happens? As long as she's healthy, happy, and not hurting anyone, then she would continue to pursue her dream, regardless of whether or not it brought her fame or fortune.
“The bottom can't fall out of a dream, Wulf. There's no market for them. Sorry, but it's one thing even you can't buy and sell – my dream is all my own, purchased, paid for, no returns, exchanges, or refunds.”
He never said it, but she got the very distinct feeling that real estate wasn't exactly his dream. She wanted to ask him about his dreams. About swimming. But she didn't want to ruin the evening. He was being so soft and open – she was seeing a side of him that she was positive not many people got to see. She wanted to cherish the moment, show him thanks for it. Show him that he could trust her with moments like that; that he could always feel safe to build memories with her.
That's it – his tough as stone act. It's because he doesn't feel safe letting go, doesn't feel safe just being himself. He's just like me.