Chapter Five — Carson

“So . . .” I started and trailed off.

We were seated in a booth in a small diner and all my senses were screaming that something was horribly wrong.

She'd clammed up after the talk about her car and was seating across from me staring stonily at her burger and stabbing her soda with the straw.

I sighed. “I'm sorry if I upset you.” It seemed like all I was doing tonight was apologizing but in my defense it was like every breath I took irritated her.

She let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. The rainbow colored strands fell gloriously around her shoulders and reminded me of cotton candy. “We have to lay down some basic rules,” she said.

“Why? I'm never seeing you again remember?”

She shot me a glare and I immediately shut my gob. In the short time that I've been with her I've learned that rainbow hair or not, this chick was a tigress when she was riled up.

“I don't care about tomorrow, I'm talking basic rules for tonight,” she fished out a pen from her rainbow purse — I'm not even surprised anymore — and clicked it on. She searched the table before taking a paper napkin and flattening it. “Rule number one . . .” she started writing.

“Let me get this straight. You want to lay ground rules for a couple of hours, what are you afraid I'll somehow figure out you're a serial killer or something?” I chuckled and took a bite of my burger. Despite my seemingly annoying presence and her short temper I found I was enjoying myself and for the first time in a while the void had taken a break.

“Never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ask any questions about what I do, why I wear a mask and my personal life,” she shot me a look that dared me to counter what she just wrote.

“Eight evers, really? Why do you care so much anyway?” I was a little disappointed because I'd looked forward to finding out just what made her tick. The mask intrigued me and now I couldn't even ask about it.

“It's my life, if I wanna talk about it it should be on my terms. Besides,” she sulked. “You'll never understand, no one ever does.”

I could see how uncomfortable it made her so I agreed. “Fine, anything else?”

She tapped the pen on her jaw and suddenly I was aware of her pursed lips. They were pink and plump and seemed to glisten on their own. My hand itched again and it took all my willpower to get it under control. It was a strange feeling that started when she'd made that kiss my backside comment and leaned on her car.

I'd gotten a good look at her figure and suddenly I'd wanted to do just that. Leant back against the car I could clearly make out the sharp outline of her hips beneath the long sleeved T-shirt and jeans. My hands started itching to reach out and trace every curve but I somehow made it through the conversation without being labeled a psycho.

“Yes, idioms, don't dare speak to me with idioms,” she wrote that down. “I don't get them, you see.” She clarified.

“Right, anything else?” I was amused beyond belief.

“Nope, I think that's it, and to make sure you never ask, sign here please,” she passed me the pen and the napkin.

“You're joking right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Midnight will roll by soon, buddy.”

I rolled my eyes and collected the pen. I pushed the napkin to myself and read what she'd written. She had a delicate penmanship for someone with a fiery personality.

Rolling my eyes again I put my signature and passed it back to her. “It's just a napkin, it could fly away from here with the slightest wind and guess what? I'll be all over you like the paparazzi.”

She took the napkin. “Oh honey, I am way ahead of you.” Before I knew it she produced her phone and took a picture of it. She turned her screen around and wriggled it in my face. “Have anything snarky to say now? Huh?”

I threw my hands up in defeat, relishing how good it felt for my lips to curve naturally without being forced to. “I acknowledge defeat, I like your phone case by the way.”

It was rainbow of course but it had a delicate looking butterfly in the middle. Somehow it suited her.

“Thanks,” she slumped back into her chair but she had on a smile that lit up her face.

“Now that that's out of the way,” I sipped my lemonade. “Tell me five things about you no one else knows,” at her narrowed eyes I quickly added, “it doesn't have to be personal, really.”

She rolled her eyes and drummed her manicured fingers on the table. “That's still a little personal,” she mumbled under her breath and sighed. “Fine.”

I smiled like I just won the lottery.

“Five things about me that no one knows . . . Let's see. I once died trying to rap along to an Eminem song.”

I almost choked on my drink. I tasted the slight bitterness of the lemons in the air that went up my nose and I gagged involuntarily. “Wh . . . at?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I'm not proud of my younger self. I was stupid and weak. Too stupid to realize that I could kill myself if I held my breath for more than five minutes.”

I could sense the air shift from playful to serious and I found I didn't like it. “Like you said, you were young. What better time to be stupid and weak than when we're young right?” I tried shifting the atmosphere back with a smile and I guess it worked because she smiled back.

“I'm not surprised by your answer. As usual you're concluding when you don't have all the facts.”

“Then give me the facts,” I leaned my elbows on the table. “Otherwise I'll just keep concluding.”

I watched as she dug her tongue in her cheek. “I'd rather not. I've come to realize that people will form their own opinion about you regardless of how much they know about you and it won't always be good. Only one thing to do about that.”

“Deal with it?”

“Don't let anyone know anything about you. That way whatever they come up with in their puny little brains will most likely be a lie. That's easier to stomach actually.”

“Wow. Go for the nuclear option, what could go wrong?”

She shrugged again. “Works for me.”

“And you wonder why you don't have friends.”

“Who said I didn't have any friends?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Well, between suddenly disappearing in the middle of a conversation and the fact that no one knows anything about you, forgive me for thinking that.”

I knew that was the wrongest — is that even a word? — thing I could've said as soon as the words left my mouth but there was nothing I could do.

We stayed silent after that, staring unblinkingly at each other.

“This is stupid,” she finally said and did that thing where she stuck her tongue in her cheek.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said . . .”

“No, I mean sitting here in a semi-nice diner with food and . . .” she gave a little shiver. “It's like we're on a date,” she said the word like someone would appear and shoot her for saying it.

“Come on,” she stood up. “I know somewhere where we can talk and you can get tired of me quickly.”

And just like that I dropped some bills on the table and we ended up sitting on the hood of her minivan — Baby — facing the ocean as the wind sprayed water in our faces.

“This is my favorite place when I need a reminder that my life's not the only one thoroughly fucked up.”

She was sitting right beside me and the only thing I noticed was that she had really long legs and under the moonlight she looked like she had a halo.

I tunneled my fingers through my hair and tried not to be caught gaping at her.

The skyline was dotted with skyscrapers that were lit up and from here I could make out the giant neon white lights of Miller Incorporated. Seeing the building always brought a sense of pride to me but sitting here now, next to this strange and enigmatic woman, I found myself wondering if she was just going to end up being another gold-digging what's-her-name.

I risked it and glanced at her, only to find that she was already staring.

She'd supported herself with her arms behind her but when she caught my stare she straightened up.

“So tell me something about you, Carson. Something that the tabloids don't know.”

I cringed inside and a foreign feeling filled my entire being. Like what it felt to be having that dream where you're naked in front of your classmates.

“You didn't strike me as a person that indulges in gossip.”

I turned to the businessman in me and took control of the situation.

She shrugged with this devilish smile. “It's kind of hard to focus on anything else when that's all everyone wants to talk about. Miami's Most Eligible Bachelor seen out and about with Miss America! Extra, Extra!”

I had to laugh at her imitation.

“What do you want to know?”

She bit her lip like she was thinking. Finally she said, “Do you like dogs?”

That stuck me as odd. Usually women who I go out with want to know exactly how many figures I make a year. Weird but I guess when you've acquired the status of billionaire people just assume you walk around thinking about all the money you make and the staus also apparently means you're not human any more.

I liked that the question was mundane.

“Love them but I'm not a very good pet owner, I killed my first two hamsters and I flushed my goldfish down the toilet. It's been an unspoken rule never to leave me with animals.”

She giggled the same high-pitched tinkling giggle that'd attracted me to her that first night. The sound was still just as fascinating and I found I wanted to hear it again.

“I have a dog,” she sounded wistful.

“Oh yeah? What's his name?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Her name?”

She shook her head. “Nope, not saying.”

I groaned. “I can't ask anything about you without it being personal and I sure as hell don't want to talk about myself, so what on earth are we going to be talking about?”

She looked at me with something I thought was respect.

“You know, most guys would just go right on ahead and disregard whatever the fuck I made you sign but you're not. Why not?”

“Because I know that once you put your signature on it it's legally binding and it's important to you. That and I have a feeling if I do you'll get in your car and drive off with me sitting here.”

She kept her eyes locked on me and I almost wished the stupid mask could disappear so I could see the rest of her face.

A guitar riff sounded out and cut through the sound of lapping waves.

She fished her phone out and for a minute her face was bathed in a ghostly white light.

“That, my friends, is what midnight sounds like. I have to go, it was nice meeting you, Carson.”

Before I could say anything she jumped down.

“Wait! Are you actually serious about the midnight thing? Has it been four hours already?”

“Of course I'm serious. I've got work tomorrow and I need to rest. My boss is not an easy man.”

As I stored this information I realized that this might be the only clue about who she was behind the mask that I would ever get. She had a job and a difficult boss. Wow, my mind is blown.

“I don't even know what to call you.”

“Butterfly, now get off my damn car, please.”

I got off and started to the drivers side.

“Can't you stay for a while longer?” I leant on the open window and watched as she inserted her key.

“Why? Like you said, we have nothing to talk about.”

“I know, but I just like looking at you.”

She just stared. The moonlight turned her eyes to two sliver orbs.

I sighed. She must be feeling like I usually do when one-night-stands start using words.

“Right, you should go. Maybe we'll meet again.”

“Fate is a bitch,” her teeth gleamed when she smiled.

I stepped away from the car and she started the engine and drove off.

I bought out my phone and saw that it really was midnight. Three missed calls from my mom popped up but I swiped the notification away.

Just as I decided to go home and sulk over a bottle of whisky the moonlight caught something silvery on the sand which in turn caught my attention.

I turned on my phone torch and bent to examine whatever it was. Sand covered most of it probably when Butterfly drove off so I had to dig it out.

When I did I saw it was a decorated gold-and-black card probably the size of an ID that was an invitation to the opening of a club called Ecstasy!.

I recognized it immediately because — Christ, what was her name again? — well, my newest conquest was ranting and raving about it before she started ranting and raving about me.

And as my luck would have it, a certain flighty, rainbow-loving person was headlining.

She was right. Fate is a bitch.