It Feels Like

The building was huge and intimidating and almost entirely glass. Who actually lived in these things? Probably hedge fund managers, investment bankers, sleazy lawyers, and secret agent Brad. What exactly did he do for a living anyway? She must be crazy going to some random guy’s apartment alone. He just seemed so harmless that she couldn’t say no.

Adjusting the three bags of food in her hands, she walked up to the doorman. “Hi, my name is Keri Anglin. I was told to give you my name. I’m visiting... someone in the building." She grimaced when she realized she didn’t even know his last name.

The man nodded and opened the door for her. “May I take those bags, ma’am?”

“Oh no, I’m fine. But, uh, where should I go now?”

“Just to the right. Take the elevators to the thirty-second floor. Mr. Richards is in unit 3202.”

Keri thanked him and shuffled off to the elevator. Mr. Brad Richards. Now she had a last name at least. The elevator was gorgeous and she was starting to feel completely out of her element. She’d just wore a pair of jeans and a cream cowl neck sweater. Even if it was almost the end of April, the temperatures were still cool at night and walking the five blocks from the subway to his building wasn’t appealing in a skirt and blouse.

She flipped her long, brown hair over her shoulder and wondered what this was. Was this a date? Was he even capable of dating when he always looked so torn up over his career? It seemed like he liked her, but he was so reserved and difficult to read.

The elevator opened up onto an opulent hallway. The carpet had an intricate design that involved black, tan, and gold. The fixtures were all gold and lit the hallway in a dim, but tasteful glow. She walked past the first door and then noticed his unit number on her right.

He opened the door only a few seconds after her knock. He was in a pair of slacks and a dark blue dress shirt. It was untucked with the first two buttons undone. He looked like he’d spent no time at all on his attire, but at the same time he looked like he’d meticulously crafted the look. His hair was slicked back away from his face and he looked better than he normally looked. His eyes weren’t so empty.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he replied, taking the bags out of her hands. “Come in.”

She let him have the canvas bags that held the ingredients for their dinner and followed him inside the condo. Keri’s breath caught in her throat. It was gorgeous. Minimalist and spacious with an almost entirely glass far wall. “Jesus, this place is beautiful,” she whispered, walking past Brad and toward the windows.

“It’s a nice view,” he told her as he sat the bags down in the kitchen.

She reached the window and looked out on the city, over the lights and roads and buildings and people. “Wow.”

“I forget to enjoy it sometimes,” he admitted, walking up to stand behind her.

“What the hell do you do that you can afford a place like this?”

He chuckled. “A little bit of everything. I used to be great at what I do.”

Keri looked over her shoulder at him. “I bet you’re still great at it. Everybody has a slump now and again.”

He shrugged and stepped closer to her. He was only a few inches behind her now. She could smell his expensive cologne. “I’m glad you like the view. You’re welcome anytime.”

“I’m just going to move into your bathroom. It’s probably the size of my apartment.”

“We’ll see how your cooking is first,” he said with a smirk.

She turned around and scrunched her nose up at him. “I brought you another pair of slacks and a shirt to try on. They’re in the white tote bag.”

Brad followed her over to the the bags on the kitchen counter and watched her pull out the clothes. “I’ll go try them on,” he said.

“I guessed on the shirt since I didn’t know your measurements.”

He disappeared down the hall while she put her hands on her hips and surveyed his immaculate kitchen. It was bigger than any kitchen she’d ever had and was outfitted in gorgeous stainless steel appliances. The countertops were solid granite. And everything looked like it was brand new and never used. The rest of his condo was much the same. Nondescript and no personality. It was like he didn’t spend much time there. Which could explain why he would disappear for a week at time.

She started unpacking the bags of food while she waited for him to return. In less than a minute, he walked back into the kitchen. He was wearing the black slacks with the black and white patterned material at the cuffs and lining the pockets. The crisp white shirt had the same pattern incorporated into the cuffs around the wrists and on the collar.

“Hey, it fits,” she said.

“It does,” Brad replied, smoothing the shirt over his chest.

She stepped up to him and adjusted the collar, and then pulled at the chest of the shirt to check the fit across his wide shoulders and strong chest. Keri had guessed at his measurements, but it seemed she knew his body better than she’d thought. “Not bad,” she said, smoothing it over his shoulders.

“I like it. And the pants. These are very good.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me. I’ll still make you dinner.”

Brad smiled at her. “No, really. I think everything you’ve made is great. I’d buy it.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll make you dinner every night. I’ll be your personal chef and fashion designer.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Spinach-stuffed steak, orzo pilaf, roasted asparagus, and cupcakes for dessert.”

“I don’t usually eat dessert.”

“Says the guy who I’ve watched drink over fifty hot chocolates with cream,” she replied, turning away from him and pulling the rest of the ingredients out of the bags.

Brad followed her and leaned on the counter while she organized the food. “Okay, fine. I’ll eat the cupcakes. Do you have a favorite wine?”

“Nope, I know I like to drink it, but I don’t know anything about it. Give me the tour of your kitchen.”

He pointed to the cabinets and told her what was in each--where she could find the pots, pans, plates, utensils, and silverware. When he’d finished, he bent over and opened a small fridge built into the island in the kitchen. It was a wine chiller and there were several bottles of white wine inside. “You look like a Pinot Grigio kind of woman.”

“What are you, the wine master?” she asked with a smile.

“Totally,” he agreed. Brad pulled two wine glasses off a shelf and uncorked the bottle like a pro. He poured some in both glasses and handed her one. Keri accepted it and watched him as he swirled the wine in the glass before smelling it. She couldn’t help but grin as he repeated the ritual before sipping.

“You are way too fancy for me,” she admitted, taking a drink of the wine and letting it slide over her tongue and down her throat. It was delicious.

“You need to smell it first to get the full experience.”

Keri laughed, but did stop and sniff the glass.

“What do you smell?”

“Wine,” she answered, taking another drink.

Brad shook his head at her. “I’ll teach you how to appreciate wine one day.”

“Hey, I appreciate this. It’s delicious.” She knocked the rest of the glass back. “And it’s gone.”

He was shaking his head again, but his lips were turned up in a grin. “You’re going to be sleeping on my couch at this rate.”

“Fill me up again while I get dinner started.”

***********************************

Keri had downed three glasses of wine while she was making dinner, and she was feeling slightly tipsy. Brad just seemed to find the entire display amusing as he watched her spin around the kitchen and chatter about her day and how good the food was going to be and how great that bottle of Pinot Grigio was.

“Do you really like the clothes?” she asked as she plated the food.

“I do,” he replied as he took one of the plates and carried it over to the dining table he had already set.

“You’re my first fan,” she said with a goofy smile.

“Yes, I am,” Brad said, taking the other plate and gesturing for her to proceed him to the dining table.

“I think I’m way more affected by alcohol than you are.”

He smiled at her and pulled out her chair. “I like to take my time and enjoy things.”

“Wait, are you talking about wine or other things?”

He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. “Take it how you want to take it.”

“Sexy secret agent Brad,” she teased, letting him scoot her chair in.

He took a seat to her right and uncorked a bottle of red wine. “Bordeaux,” he explained as he decanted it and then poured a small amount in both their glasses.

She rolled her eyes and swirled the dark liquid in the glass before smelling it.

“What do you smell?” he asked.

“Plum, cherry, tobacco, coffee.”

“Drink,” Brad told her.

She did and let the small sip sit on her tongue. “Tastes like wine,” she finally said.

Brad actually laughed out loud at her response. “You’re hopeless."

“It makes my legs feel wiggly and my body feel relaxed. And I’m blaming the sexy secret agent Brad comment on the wine too."

“Eat your food before you make me blush,” he told her.

They both dug into their plates. Keri knew her way around a kitchen, but she hadn’t cooked much at all since moving to New York. She was glad to see that she hadn’t lost her touch. Dinner was delicious and Brad made several comments about how good it was while they were eating. His wine paired perfectly with the steak. She had a second glass, despite her better judgement.

And then when she pulled out the pre-made cupcakes out of the pastry box, he produced a bottle of Moscato from the wine chiller.

“You’re totally trying to get me drunk,” she complained, accepting the small glass of dessert wine.

“I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Keri sipped at the Moscato and then leaned against the counter while she pulled the wrapper off her cupcake. “I’m having a wonderful time. Best time I’ve had since I moved to New York.”

His eyes were watching her. If she’d been sober, then it would have made her uncomfortable, but now it just made her flushed and hot. He was standing across from her, the island between them. She leaned forward further and licked some of the icing off the top of the cupcake before looking up to meet his gaze.

Brad pealed the wrapper off his and watched her as he bit into it. She sipped on the glass of Moscato before smiling at him. She'd had way too much alcohol and was feeling silly and flirtatious.

"You've had way too much wine," he observed.

"What makes you think that?"

"Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are glassy." He took another bite of his cupcake.

"Maybe that's because I'm having a great time in a posh Manhattan condo with a handsome guy."

He laughed softly, dropping his gaze. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Maybe. Let's talk about this crazy girl that broke up with you a couple months ago."

Brad shook his head. "Let's not."

"Because I think she might be looney tunes. I mean, you're nice, successful, and pretty hot. Unless you like to do really kinky shit in bed, I don't see what's wrong with you."

"She thought I wouldn't be successful anymore since I'm struggling with my career."

"Pfffft," Keri replied, finishing her wine and popping the last piece of cupcake in her mouth. "She's a bitch if that's the reason she left you."

He was smiling at her. "Does drinking make you more or less honest?"

"Oh god, more. It's honesty central over here. Unless you are hiding some crazy flaw like wearing diapers to bed or abusing animals, I don't get why you're single." She gave him a grave look. "Unless you really are secretly gay. And if you are, then allow me to weep on behalf of womankind."

"Definitely not gay. I promise." He paused before continuing. "I'm single because of my job. It's demanding and requires me to travel a lot. Women don't usually like that."

Keri raised her brows. "I bet you don't think you're worth it."

He finished his cupcake. "Worth what?"

"Worth the trouble. Worth dealing with the shitty aspects of your job."

He looked away quickly, staring at the granite countertop. Keri ran her eyes over his slumped shoulders. He really was handsome, but came across as somewhat aloof. She wondered if she'd met him at a strange time in his life and if he was different when his all-consuming career was going well.

"Maybe you're right," he muttered under his breath.

"In vino veritas."

It made him snort in laughter. "I have to work tomorrow morning and it's getting late."

Keri lifted herself off the counter. "Say no more. I'll scoot. Maybe we can do this again sometime. I'm in love with your kitchen."

"You're too drunk to leave."

"I'm not drunk. I'm just in my premium space...relaxed and going with the flow. And maybe a little giggly and apt to tell cute boys that I think they're cute."

He came around the counter and took her arm. "I don't think you need to get on the subway like this. Either I'm driving you home or you're staying here."

"You can't drive me to Brooklyn. Don't be ridiculous," she said as she let him lead her out of the kitchen.

"Then you can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"Wait, how big is your bed?"

"I'm not sleeping in it with you," he replied.

Keri giggled. "No, I wanted to know because I haven't slept in anything but a twin bed for months and if you have a..." She trailed off as they walked into the master suite, and she saw a huge king size, four-poster bed. It was expertly made and covered in a crisp, white duvet. "Holy cow."

"You can enjoy my king size bed tonight. There's clothes you can use in this drawer and the bathroom is right there." He pointed at a dark doorway. Almost reluctantly, he let go of her arm and pulled open an armoire to take out a blanket.

"I can sleep on the couch," Keri half-heartedly offered.

Brad shook his head and nudged her toward the bed. "No. Go on. Enjoy."

Notes