“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.
“Club house thingy, huh,” he mumbled, his eyes wandering over her form again.
“Are we done? I have some messages to catch up on,” she said, then she went to step around him. He reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Alright, alright, calm down. You want to see my club?” he asked. She noticed he kept putting emphasis on that word, club.
“I don't know, now. You've made it weird. Am I going to show up and it's some football club? A One Direction fan club? I'm not so into those things,” she said.
“How about a sex club? You into that?”
She almost swallowed her tongue. A sex club? He owned and operated a sex club? Did those even exist in real life? And the way he'd said it. A perfect stranger, talking about a sex club with her. In broad daylight.
Maybe I never really woke up this morning and this is all a dream.
“I'm sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Are you saying you want to take me to a sex club?”
“Yes.”
“Is that where you take all your first dates?” she asked, still thinking he might be joking.
“No. Usually I keep it a secret. Freaks most girls out – just like I thought it would you, until I saw that Eros profile,” he explained.
“So let me see if I have this straight. Whatever you saw on my profile made you think I'd be interested in going to a sex club with you,” she spelled it all out.
“Yeah. Clearly, I was mistaken. It was nice meeting you, Katya.”
She was having a moment. A tidal pull on her conscience. This was a bad idea on an epic level. Going to a sex club with a man she'd just met? That's how women ended up on Dateline. Not to mention the fact that Katya simply didn't do things like that – she was more of a museum or opera house kind of girl.
But new-Katya, the woman from the profile, she bristled against old-Katya. Got mad at the way this handsome stranger was looking at her, as if she couldn't possibly be brave enough to try something new and daring. Something sexy and a little dangerous.
“Nine o'clock,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?”
“I'll need more time,” she explained. “I can meet you down here at nine o'clock.”
“C'mon now, this isn't like truth or dare. No points for trying, it's okay. We can just pretend this didn't happen, go back to avoiding eye contact when we pass each other on the sidewalk,” he suggested.
“Awww, see? You're such a good little girl, trying to look out for me,” she spoke to him in a baby-voice. His smile finally reappeared and she had to will away the blush she felt creeping up her neck.
“Alright, angel cake. Let's see how far you'll take this cute little act. Nine o'clock,” he said, then he finally let her go. She nodded her head.
“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.
“Club house thingy, huh,” he mumbled, his eyes wandering over her form again.
“Are we done? I have some messages to catch up on,” she said, then she went to step around him. He reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Alright, alright, calm down. You want to see my club?” he asked. She noticed he kept putting emphasis on that word, club.
“I don't know, now. You've made it weird. Am I going to show up and it's some football club? A One Direction fan club? I'm not so into those things,” she said.
“How about a sex club? You into that?”
She almost swallowed her tongue. A sex club? He owned and operated a sex club? Did those even exist in real life? And the way he'd said it. A perfect stranger, talking about a sex club with her. In broad daylight.
Maybe I never really woke up this morning and this is all a dream.
“I'm sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Are you saying you want to take me to a sex club?”
“Yes.”
“Is that where you take all your first dates?” she asked, still thinking he might be joking.
“No. Usually I keep it a secret. Freaks most girls out – just like I thought it would you, until I saw that Eros profile,” he explained.
“So let me see if I have this straight. Whatever you saw on my profile made you think I'd be interested in going to a sex club with you,” she spelled it all out.
“Yeah. Clearly, I was mistaken. It was nice meeting you, Katya.”
She was having a moment. A tidal pull on her conscience. This was a bad idea on an epic level. Going to a sex club with a man she'd just met? That's how women ended up on Dateline. Not to mention the fact that Katya simply didn't do things like that – she was more of a museum or opera house kind of girl.
But new-Katya, the woman from the profile, she bristled against old-Katya. Got mad at the way this handsome stranger was looking at her, as if she couldn't possibly be brave enough to try something new and daring. Something sexy and a little dangerous.
“Nine o'clock,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?”
“I'll need more time,” she explained. “I can meet you down here at nine o'clock.”
“C'mon now, this isn't like truth or dare. No points for trying, it's okay. We can just pretend this didn't happen, go back to avoiding eye contact when we pass each other on the sidewalk,” he suggested.
“Awww, see? You're such a good little girl, trying to look out for me,” she spoke to him in a baby-voice. His smile finally reappeared and she had to will away the blush she felt creeping up her neck.
“Alright, angel cake. Let's see how far you'll take this cute little act. Nine o'clock,” he said, then he finally let her go. She nodded her head.
