Awkward Romance

“It does look like a palace,” I admit to him. “The amount of gold here is blinding, though. Are any of them real?”

“The gold? I doubt it. But then again, judging by how much Paula’s friend billed me for this, they might as well be real.”

“Amazing,” I murmur, unable to hide my wonder. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland.”

“So, what does that make me? The Mad Hatter or the Cheshire Cat?”

“Honestly, I’m yet to figure that out. But there’s still enough time for me to figure that out.”

Sam smiles in response. He’s enjoying my wordplay as much as I am. It’s like verbal foreplay, and I can almost feel his excitement each time I say something… promising.

“Shall we continue the tour?” He asks finally.

“Of course, good sir. Lead the way, please.”

With an amused chuckle, he leads me down the hall that connects to a long corridor.r’ It almost seems as if we are now walking through the lobby of a fancy hotel.

There are doors on either side of the corridor. The floor is carpeted with a long, soft red rug with winding black and gold filigree designs.

“This is the game room,” Sam says, pointing to the first door on the right as we pass it.

“Game room?” I ask. “What kind of game exactly?”

He laughs. “Probably not the type you’re thinking. When my friends come around, we play pool, table soccer, video games, and all sorts of board games there.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna have a look?”

“Nah. Maybe later or next time. I want to see the rest of the rooms.”

“Ok. Moving on.”

Sam continues to describe each room as we walk past them one by one. Despite being so engrossed in this house tour, I can’t help but notice how sweet it is that he’s still holding my hand.

He’s probably the type of guy who kisses his woman in public. Walter never liked any form of PDA.

To hell with Walter! My brain yells at me. I really have to stop thinking about my ex-husband so much. The man seems to live rent-free in my subconscious.

“This is the movie room,” Sam is saying as we pass by another door.

We’d already passed about three doors, but I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear what Sam said was behind them. I can’t ask him about them because he’ll know I wasn’t listening to him.

“Here’s a mini-studio where some of my artists come for impromptu recording sessions and such,” he says and opens the door to show me.

“It’s cozy,” I comment dutifully. I’m starting to get tired of the tour.

“This one is a mini nightclub – again, Paula’s idea,” he says with a quirky smile.

“Hmm… She must be really special to you if she has this much say-so on how you design your home,” I remark before I can stop myself.

Sam looks down at me with a knowing smile. “Is someone getting jealous?”

“Jealous?” I scoff. “I’m just saying, that’s all.”

He laughs. “I was kidding. Besides, you have nothing to worry about. Paula is my childhood friend; she’s almost like a sister to me.”

“And do you have any? Sisters, I mean.”

Of course, I know the answer to this question, but I don’t want my host to know that I’ve already spent hours G****e searching every single detail about his life.

After all, he too asked about my kids as if that information didn’t pop up when he was trying to track me down. So, let’s keep acting as if we don’t know anything about each other. Two can play that game.

“No. I’m an only child,” Sam says in response to my question.

“I used to wonder what it would be like to be an only child,” I muse. “Must be special.”

“Yeah. And lonely at times.”

His expression goes dull a little, but he recovers quickly when we reach the next door.

“Look, here’s my favorite room – the master suite,” he says with a big grin. “This is where the magic happens.”

I suddenly feel shy. I’m no longer as bold as I was downstairs. I guess the alcohol has worn off. My senses are beginning to return.

What the heck am I doing here with a stranger? Am I actually about to go into his bedroom with him and have sex with him on our first lunch date? Seriously?

“You haven’t told me what those other rooms are for,” I point at the remaining doors down the corridor.

This is just a stalling tactic for me. I’m trying to figure out a not-so-awkward way to return downstairs ASAP without looking like an idiot.

I made him bring me up here, didn’t I? It’s either I let him finish what I started, or I end it myself somehow.

“Oh, those are the guest rooms,” he says with zero intention of taking me to see them. He is still holding my hand, and we’re still standing in front of his bedroom.

“Wanna check out my room?” he asks with a boyish grin.

Oh, dear! What am I going to do now?

I hesitate. He notices my reluctance to continue this leg of the tour and his expression softens.

“It’s ok, Eunice,” he says softly. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Now I feel stupid. To think that this was even my idea in the first place and now I don’t want to follow through! So dumb.

“I’m sorry,” I say lamely.

“Don’t apologize,” he says graciously. “I suspected that it was the alcohol talking all along. Now that I am sure, I think we should go back downstairs and have our lunch instead.”

“I wasn’t trying to lead you on or anything like that,” I explain. “I – I don’t even know what I was thinking. I guess this all played out differently in my head.”

Sam chuckles. “Fantasies are always more exciting than reality, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Come on. Let’s get back to the dining room.”

I feel so embarrassed and disappointed at the same time. This isn’t how I wanted this date to turn out.

But then, what do I really want? To eat with Sam and return home to my girls and my yet-to-be-figured-out life?

Or to have sex with Sam and carry on a steamy affair that might leave me heartbroken and disillusioned when it is over? What do I want?

And what sort of impression have I made on Sam with this little stunt of mine? Will he ever take me seriously again?

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” I apologize again as we head back downstairs. “I’m not a tease, I swear. I guess I’m just not ready to take this step with anyone else yet.”

“Anyone else?”

“You see, my ex-husband is the only man I’ve ever been with… intimately.”

“Oh.”

“We were married for 9 years, and we got separated two years ago after I discovered that he was cheating on me. I’d suspected his infidelity for years, but I never had any solid evidence to hang on to, until I caught him red-handed.”

“That must have been horrible for you,” Sam says sympathetically.

“It was. I showed up at his office one evening when he’d been working late. And that was how I walked in on my beloved husband having a quickie with his colleague in his office.”

“Ouch.”

“He wasn’t even sorry,” I recall sadly. “And that Jezebel he was frolicking with had the nerve to tell me to my face that my husband was tired of me and I needed to set him free.”

“Did he marry you against his will?”

“No. We were in love. Or so I thought…”

“I’m sorry to hear this.”

“Don’t be. I’m already healing,” I say with a smile. “And that’s why I shouldn’t have led you on like this. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine, Eunice,” he says warmly. “I don’t know what you may have heard about me, but I am not a scoundrel. I do have some morals too.”

“To be honest, I haven’t heard that much about you,” I say with an innocent smile.

“Liar,” he laughs. “I enjoy reading about myself on those gossip blogs too. It’s amazing what you’ll find out about yourself from people who don’t know you and have never even met you before.”

“I don’t know how you celebrities cope with all the lies they write about you guys. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“Well, it’s the steep price we pay for being famous, even though some of us would rather not be. I didn’t choose my life, but I’m not complaining either.”

“I can see that clearly.”

With another laugh, he says, “Come on, let’s go eat. That little tour we did just got me feeling very hungry.”

I know he is exaggerating his hunger just to quench the awkwardness of returning downstairs without doing what we had come here to do. I appreciate him so much for that.

Some men would make a big deal out of this kind of situation and start a quarrel. But not Sam Ewing. He has succeeded in making this look like a minor misunderstanding that is not worth mulling over. Such a perfect gentleman!

“I’m starving,” I say. “For food, this time around.”

“In that case, you won’t be disappointed,” he assures me. “My chef and his team have cooked up a storm for us.”

“Are you expecting more guests or is the cooked storm just for the two of us?”

Sam throws back his head and lets out a deep belly laugh. I can’t help but join in the laughter. Every remaining ounce of tension between us has been completely diffused.

“You’re a breath of fresh air, Eunice. You’re a keeper.”

“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that…”