The Meridian Gamble Page 3

  And suddenly, the man transforms just as Staci did, only much quicker. He becomes someone different. He’s shorter with skin that’s just a slight shade more fair. He wears simple robes and has a beard, and carries a walking stick.

  For a moment, the entire scene changes, and I see him in what looks like a small arena with sandy floors. Something about the architecture makes me think it’s in Egypt, during the times of Pharaoh. And in the daydream, the man’s head turns, and I’m certain he’s about to look my way. I’m convinced it’s happening in the real world, too. I panic, and in a flash, my fear returns my consciousness to modern times.

  Thank God, we’re next to Saks. I grab Staci’s hand and pull her toward the front doors.

  “Oh, I saw this totally hot dress in here that would look great on you. We have to go inside!”

  “But I don’t really need a new …”

  Before she can protest any further, I drag her into the store.

  “Upstairs. It was on the second floor. Or at least I think it was …” I say, panting, practically flustered.

  From the way Staci looks at me, I’m sure she’s convinced that I’m crazy, but she goes along with it as I lead her up the escalator. Before we ascend to the next floor, I look back at the doors of the front entrance, and am relieved to see that we’re not being followed.

  Of course, there is no dress on the second floor. But luckily, there’s lots of other fun stuff to see, and we’re soon happily perusing the racks. Staci tries on some ridiculously overpriced jeans, ones that are hundreds of dollars a pair, and decides she has to have them. And I see a top that’s nice. Afterwards, we go to the higher floors to look for a gift for her Mom. We swing through the shoe section when she mentions needing some new pumps, and both try on a few pairs.

  As we shop, I think back to the man on the street. I wonder what that strange glow around him was. Is it that I’m becoming psychic in adulthood, and can see auras now? But how would that explain how my vision of him changed to someone from ancient times, just as it did with Staci, when she appeared to me as Marjorie? He certainly isn’t a character in my Victorian novel, though I am writing another book set in Egypt. Perhaps I was pulling up images from that one.

  Or perhaps I’m going insane.

  And I remember something I had long forgotten, from when I was a child at the LAX airport with my parents. It was before they had passed away, and we were picking up my aunt, who was visiting. There was a man who had walked by us quickly on his way to a flight, too fast to notice me, and I had seen the same glowing radiance around him that I had detected today. I remember thinking he was magical at the time, perhaps someone from the fairy realm.

  But I don’t feel that way now. Even though the spark around the man on the street should make me think he’s special, it doesn’t. There’s something about the tall, glowing stranger that makes me afraid. On some instinctual level, I feel that I need to stay away from him. And I’m glad to have escaped him, so I can return to my normal life.

  After trying on shoes, we hit the first floor cosmetics counter. And as Staci samples a new MAC blush, she turns to me.

  “Didn’t you say you wanted to show me a dress?”

  And I look to her, pretending to be confused.

  “You know what? I think it was at Bloomie’s. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dragged you in here.”

  “It’s okay. It will give me an excuse to go there tomorrow and spend my bonus,” she says with laugh.

  And we take our purchases and leave the store.

  Work runs later than I had expected, and we can’t leave for the bar together. So instead, I make plans to meet Staci there. There’s a problem with one of the shipping computers in the Mail Department, and of course, I’m the only one who knows how to fix it. It amazes me that the lazy mail boys don’t even know how to put new labels in the machine. And I’m running late, so I decide to skip going home to change.

  Luckily, I’ve worn one of my sexier suits to work today, a beige one that hugs my figure nicely. Before I leave my office, I put on the magenta silk blouse I bought at Saks on my lunchtime shopping spree. It will dress up the outfit a bit. And as I pass by the mailroom again on my way to the bathroom to check my make-up, one of the mail boys follows me out into the hall. It’s Edison, a pint-sized womanizer from Ecuador with jet-black hair, and a tight little body that came from playing professional soccer before he arrived in New York.

  I can feel his eyes on my ass as I walk down the hall.

  “Woo-hoo, Sexy. Going somewhere fun tonight? Can I come along?”

  I turn back, and he’s biting his tongue in a silly way, looking into the mailroom, no doubt giggling with a co-worker who’s actually doing something productive.

  “Sorry, Edison. I like men, not little boys.”

  I can hear him squeal in dismay, but I duck into the bathroom before I have to hear too much of his noise. And I look in the mirror, to survey the situation.

  I don’t have time to do much with my hair. But it’s black and curly and hangs to my shoulders, and I fluff it out a bit to give it some volume. I’m not one to wear much make-up, but I’m not what you would call a ravishing beauty either, so I need a bit of help. I put on mascara, to try to make my eyes pop, and add some red to my lips, hoping the look will pass for sexy. I unbutton my blouse an extra button. Luckily, I have big boobs and a round Latina ass, features that appeal to men sometimes. More than sometimes, actually, which would be great if I wasn’t so picky.

  I take the subway to Greenwich Village, and finally find “Downtown Pub.” Of course, it’s one of those trendy new places that everyone is raving about, which is the only kind where Staci likes to go, so she can be “seen.” It has what looks like polished wood boards all over the front of the space, with its name cut into a plank over the door, and neon lights that illuminate the letters from beneath. I hope its going to be funky or fun, or God forbid different, but when I get inside I can see it’s just another typical bar with a few pool tables, and yuppies and hipsters crammed from wall to wall. Or maybe it’s a bit more upscale than that. There are some booths with actual taps built into them, which is kind of unique, but I’m still not impressed.

  They had better at least have some disgustingly unhealthy appetizers, I think to myself. Preferably ones that Staci’s flunkies will buy.

  I spot her at a tall table near the back of the bar, and my stomach does a flip-flop. She’s already sitting with two young guys in business suits, who look like typical advertising sharks. And now I have to approach them. I hate the feeling of meeting new people almost more than anything in the world. There’s a part of my personality that is essentially shy, but I tell myself I need to buck up and press on. I’m not getting any younger, and I won’t get anywhere in the world if I’m timid. I certainly won’t meet Mr. Right.

  I plaster on my most convincing fake smile and push my way through the crowd. I slide up to their table.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Staci’s face lights up when she sees me. I wonder if she’s tired of making forced conversation on her own, or just wants to seem bubbly and popular.

  “Oh, Jack … Darcy. This is my friend, Meridian.”

  “Meridian Gutierrez,” I say, offering my hand. “But most everyone just calls me ‘Meri.’”

  “Meridian? That’s an unusual name. Is it Hispanic?”

  “No, I’m not sure where my mother got it from,“ I say, as I shake their hands. “I think she just wanted to make sure I’d always have something I could use to make conversation.”

  And the guys laugh, which is always a good start. I slide up onto one of the stools, wishing my skirt wasn’t so tight. And they stare at me like I’m a fresh piece of meat that’s just been thrown down on a platter.

  I don’t know what I was expecting or hoping to find, but just looking at these two guys makes me depressed. They look like the same jerk hotshot executives from the office, the kind who are only interested in getting ahead and getting laid
. The kind of guys that I hate.

  One has thinning hair, and skin that’s just a bit pasty. His round head and long neck remind me of a light bulb, or maybe a duck, but he wears a smug smile of self-importance that makes me think he’s blind to his own limitations. The other has thick locks that are lacquered into place with too much gel, and suitably bland features that could pass as handsome. And he has big Chiclet teeth that gleam brightly when he smiles. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t think he was cute.

  I only wish I had listened more closely when she introduced them. I’m hoping the hot one is Jack, because the other guy just isn’t my type.

  “So, Meri,” the hunky one says. “What do you do at Creative Quorum?”

  “I’m in Human Resources.”

  “Why is it all the hotties work in Human Resources?”

  “Do they? Is that the reputation HR has? I thought all the hot girls work in the Creative Division.”

  “That too. But maybe HR is so sexy because you’re always flirting with the girls to get them to show you what’s in your file,” the hot guy says. “What do you say? You show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”

  I laugh a very forced chuckle.

  “Oh, trust me, I’m not going to show you anything, slick.”

  “Not until we get a drink in you, anyway,” the balding one says.

  And he proceeds to call over a waitress.

  I need to play this carefully. Both of the guys seem to be paying attention to me, and Staci looks slightly annoyed. I don’t want to piss her off, certainly not over two jerks.

  “You’re Darcy, right?” I say to baldy.

  “Yes,” he says, hopefully.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s been freaking me out. I couldn’t figure it out, but now I know. You totally remind me of my cousin.”

  I say it in a ditzy tone, with just enough edge to let him know I’m not interested. Darcy’s face drops, and Jack laughs whole-heartedly. Staci only smiles, as a good date would. But somehow, I think she understands what I’m doing.

  And Darcy glares at me, clearly annoyed.

  “Tell me something? Does your cousin wear 1,600 dollar business suits?” Darcy says.

  “Well, I don’t think so. He's in college and works in a hardware store,” I say. “But maybe he should, because it looks really nice.”

  Darcy turns away from me and faces Staci once more, and Jack only keeps laughing. And neither one of them seems interested in calling the waitress over anymore. Only I think I’m going to need that drink to get through this night.

  “I’m just going to go to the bar, I’ll be right back.”

  I hop off the stool, and begin navigating my way through the crowd. And I stop dead in my tracks for a moment, and sigh in frustration; I could swear someone just pinched my ass. I look back, and at least it wasn’t Jack or Darcy, following me. They’re still at the table talking to Staci again, oblivious to my existence. So I continue pushing my way to the brass railing that circles the bar, and signal to a bartender, who seems open.

  “Can I get a Corona?”

  “Yeah, sure. Just a second.”

  And he turns away to a man who’s waving two twenties, and begins mixing his drinks. And I just shake my head.

  The service in this place sucks.

  My eyes wander to the other end of the bar, and that’s when I see him. He’s hunched over in a corner, seemingly trying to avoid attention, which is going to be difficult for this guy; he’s totally hot. He has dark eyes and dark hair that is cut short on the sides, but is a bit longer and wavy on the top. And he has full lips that any woman would long to chew on. The guy wears a black leather jacket with a white T-shirt underneath, a nicely masculine look that gives him just a hint of danger.

  And I don’t know if it’s the crowd or my excitement, but I feel a kind of electricity in the air, one that tickles at the corners of my mind.

  It’s funny how attraction works. There’s not that much different about this guy than the two drones back at the table other than business attire, but something chemical makes him infinitely more appealing to me. He looks up at me and smiles, forming two of the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen, and it almost makes me melt.

  I turn back, trying not to seem too obvious. And I try to get the bartender’s attention again, but he’s already helping other people who are waving money at him. And once more, I sigh in frustration.

  I notice another bartender at the other end of the bar, near the cute guy I’m afraid to look at. And I think, screw it, why not? I walk to that side.

  I spot an opening where I can sidle up next to him. I can see his broad back, that he has an athletic shape from behind, and I long to run my fingers through the wavy locks on his head. And I somehow get up the nerve to stand next to him.

  I don’t look at him right away, and he doesn’t look at me either, though I can tell he knows I’m here. He’s playing it cool. And it amuses me, somehow, this dance of attraction in which I usually have two left feet. I take a 20 dollar bill from my purse and hold it out, trying to get the attention of the other bartender. He’s young and has a crew cut with big, beefy arms, and seems just as busy.

  “Excuse me,” I say, hopefully. “Excuse me?”

  But he’s in the midst of pouring drinks.

  “Geez, who do I have to sleep with to get a drink around here?” I say to the cute guy.

  He takes the 20 from my hand, and whistles, in a loud, shrill note. It surprises me, and all the noise around us seems to stop for a moment. Finally, the bartender looks our way.

  “Hey, do you think you can get the lady a Corona?”

  And it’s the strangest thing. The bartender stops what he’s doing. He literally sets down a container of orange juice he was pouring into glasses for some Tequila Sunrises, and instead, pulls a beer bottle from a fridge. It angers the man he was serving, a hipster who looks like he’s about to say something in protest, until he catches the gaze of the guy I’m with, which quiets him.

  The bartender pops off the cap from my Corona and hands it to me, moving almost like a robot. He snatches the bill from my hand.

  “Um, thanks,” I say.

  And I finally get up the nerve to look at my new friend, who’s smiling back at me, pleased with himself. But on him, the cocky look is appealing.

  The heat coming off this guy is palpable, I can almost feel it just standing next to him. He’s even cuter than I had thought, from up close. I long to lean over and kiss those thick lips. And his eyes, they’re green, so dark they’re almost black, with little flecks of brown in them. It’s an intense shade I don’t think I’ve ever quite seen before. And staring at his dimples up close makes me grow weak at the knees.

  “So I guess it turns out it’s me you have to sleep with,” he says.

  “I … um … thanks,” I say.

  And something about it all is too much, the crowd and his incredible cuteness, and I turn away like an idiot and scurry off.

  Oh God, I can’t believe that I’m doing this. I hate myself as I cut through the writhing mass of people. But I do feel slightly better as I get closer to the table, as my heart stops pounding through my chest. Maybe my attraction was too much. He was almost too good-looking, I tell myself. Guys like that always turn out to be jerks.

  I return to Staci and her two suits, and they’re deep in shoptalk. And this time, I don’t even bother trying to get up on the stool, I just stand there.

  “So I hear Drexler Wexler is about to land a car company. Is that true?”

  “Well, we’re hardly going to tell the competition. But let’s just say we’re looking at some very big bonuses this year.”

  “Well, I won’t be the competition for very much longer if one of you takes that open position at Creative Quorum.”

  “Hey, I thought Meri was the one in Human Resources,” Jack says.

  And they all laugh as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. But I don’t even bother trying to fake a giggle this time.

  I
’m such a wimp. I finally meet a guy who I’m interested in, one who seems to flirt back, and I’m too shy to talk to him. Maybe it’s official now; I’ll always be alone. But even though I ran away, I can’t stop myself from still being interested. My eyes are irresistibly drawn back to his end of the bar. I manage to catch his eye through the throng of people, and he smiles again. The dark-haired guy forms an L-shape with his fingers, and holds it to his forehead. He points to the two Drexler Wexler executives at my table, Jack and Darcy.

  “Losers,” he mouths.

  And I laugh, almost too loudly. I nod my head in agreement.

  Staci and the guys look over in annoyance. I’m sure they think I have a screw loose, but I don’t care anymore. I feel giddy at having caught his attention again. I can feel the electricity in the room, and it makes me emboldened. I decide to do something out of character. There’s no way my hunk is coming over here with two men sitting at the table, and he’s far too hot to pass up. I decide to be aggressive for once in my life.

  “Listen, guys, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” I announce to the table.

  “Oh, no,” Staci says, in mock disappointment.

  “I forgot. I’m taking care of my neighbor’s dog, and the poor thing is probably starving. I need to go feed it.”

  “But … he should be okay for a little while longer, right?” she says, with only a bit of enthusiasm.

  “Sorry …”

  And I start to leave.

  “Well, wait,” Jack says, turning back to me with a renewed half-interest. “Are you at least going to give me your number?”

  And I decide to throw Staci a bone.

  “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we all do this again sometime? Just tell Staci what day works for you and she’ll let me know.”

  This will force Darcy to see her once more. And when he calls to set up a double date, I’ll get someone else to fill in. Maybe Sally Kadjikian, the girl who works in the cubicle next to Staci’s. That tramp will go out with anyone.