Chapter One
I work as an independent contractor, usually from the comfort of my own home. I enjoy my job, the self reliance, answering to no one but myself, having to build something from nothing. In fact, if I were to describe myself in a few words, there is no doubt in my mind that the first term I would use would be ‘fiercely independent’. It’s a point of pride. I have tried more traditional jobs when I was younger but I couldn’t cut it. Anything to do with authority, even simple things, made something inside of me react dramatically. I had a natural and thriving instinct for rebellion, if even just out of spite.
This is how I knew myself, for as long as I can remember. I scoffed at doting partners and timid people pleasers. Not because I thought myself better but because I couldn’t fathom that perspective. That was until a few months ago. Since the events I’m about to describe to you, I would’ve bet my left leg that there was no part of me that ached to please. That begged to be dominated. That could be so addicted to someone.
I wish I could tell you everything about him, describe him in great lingering details. I would relish the chance to meditate this man. But the truth is, I don’t know much. When we met, I thought it was by chance but now I doubt that. I doubt that he leaves anything to chance. Everything he did and said to me was a matter of fact - as if he had traveled from the future and already knew precisely how I would respond. That part really hasn’t changed much.
The evening we met I had been coaxed out of my apartment for a friend’s party. Isla had just come back from an artist convention where she had gained quite a following. So much so that a local gallery had asked to show some of her work upon her return. And so, begrudgingly, with admittedly minimal effort in my own appearance but genuine excitement for my friend I showed up to her party. It was more crowded than I had anticipated, filled mostly with strangers of surprisingly varied appearances. Even so, I felt underdressed. After an enthusiastic greeting from Isla she disappeared into a crowd and I made my way to the bar. I sipped my drink and scanned the gallery as I people watched. I assumed my tried and true “resting bitch face” to keep extroverts and horny drunks at bay but to no avail. It didn’t take long before a greasy young guy in his mid 20’s approached me with a smirk. I could feel him staring me down - no doubt attempting to show me how confident he was, unblinkingly “alpha” when in reality he looked in desperate need of a powerful laxative. Avoiding eye contact so as not to unintentionally engage him I not-so-subtely turned my back to him, hoping he was bright enough to take the hint. Instead, he saw that as a challenge.
“Hello, beautiful.”
I ignored him and took another slow sip of my drink, as if to ask it for the patience I knew I would need.
“Are you deaf or shy?” He tried again, with a bit too much attitude than I could take.
“Are you dumb in general or just incapable or reading body language?” I bit back.
His mouth dropped a little but I could see his surprise turning to anger as he geared up for a snappy come-back.
“Shh-shh, don’t bother.” I waved him away “Although, friendly tip - I smelled you before I saw you. Lay off the body spray.”
I finished my drink in a gulp. Set down my glass and walked passed him. It wasn’t until I was on the other side of the gallery that I bothered to look back, curious if he would surrender or follow me so he could defend his ego. But I didn’t see him. I didn’t see much of anything. All I saw was a new man standing near the bar, older than me by a few years, dressed well and who seemed entirely focused in my direction. I shifted uncomfortably, stepping to the side to test if he was looking passed me. His deep blue eyes followed me. He seemed relaxed, almost like he was weighing me up from across the room. I tried to give him an annoyed look but my muscles tensed. My discomfort was apparent. He seemed somewhat amused at this. I suppressed the immature desire to flip him off and tried to focus on a piece hung up nearby. I still felt his gaze on me. A sort of heat emanating from his direction.
I tried to lose myself in Isla’s art but I couldn’t bear it for very long. When I turned to address this man head on I saw the most intense gaze that I had ever experienced looking back at me. It swallowed me. The room, the sound of the crowd, the lighting - everything swirled away in a gentle haze. It was as if I could hear his voice in my head asking, “Well?” I physically felt myself drawn to him. I actually took a step towards him before I caught myself. He must’ve been standing behind me while I was at the bar and I must have been so distracted that I hadn’t noticed. But now I saw him, standing tall in a well fitted shirt over his broad shoulders and a suit jacket. He had dark hair with a slight wave combed back so that only a few thick strands fell over his face. But that did nothing to hide the deepest yet brightest blue eyes I have seen. They reminded me of images I’d seen of glaciers in the arctic. Even from across the room, I could feel his sharp gaze in the pit of my stomach. I was hypnotized. I would have stared for days but a hand came out of nowhere and jolted me out of my trance-like reverie.
“Kat? Are you alright?” Isla tried to smile but she seemed concerned.
“Hm, what? Why - I mean, yes. I’m fine. I just - uh…” I quickly turned back to find him, already I felt like I was going through some kind of withdraw, but he was gone.
“Babe, I think you ought to sit for a minute. You seem flushed.” Isla tried to guide me towards a chair in the corner but my feet had begun moving towards the bar before I even realized it.
“I’m good, I’m good. I just want some water.” I gave her a weak smile although I’m not sure she saw it because I didn’t bother turning my face towards her. I kept a steady eye on the spot where he had been. At least at that point, without his direct gaze, I could collect myself a little. I took a deep breath and slowly let my eyes oscillate back and forth across the room, attempting to be casual about it. But he was nowhere to be found. I stifled a wave of panic as I continued to search. I began to get angry at myself. Angry for getting upset over something so silly, for being so irrational but mostly for having looked away.
I couldn’t stomach staying much longer after that. Once I was sure he was gone I felt wound up and increasingly claustrophobic in the gallery. After a quick goodbye to Isla I stepped out into the brisk night air. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Part of me needed a minute to prepare before stepping away from what had happened. I was still flushed but now I was collected and resolute to let the whole bizarre incident become a strange memory I made my way down the block. I still craved that feeling, as if I had been possessed by the dark handsome stranger but by then I had begun to feel more like my old self. I reminded myself how much I valued the independence and freedom of living without attachments. Besides, I had just downed that drink, it was probably stronger than I had realized and was the thing that was really responsible for the dazed experience. I was nearly ready to turn the corner when a single sharp horn blasted from across the street. I turned to see a silver Aston Martin idling with its lights on. I’m not sure how but I knew it was him. I could feel it. I felt that same magnetic pull practically dragging me towards the car. I smiled despite myself knowing that I could have another fix of whatever the hell that had been. I took a few steps before remembering to stop for traffic.
“Okay, so what if it is him?” I scolded myself. “Get it together.” But I couldn’t help myself. Robotically, I waited an appropriate amount of time until I was safe from oncoming traffic and then I stepped further out into the street.
“What are you doing?” I asked myself. “You think he just wants to chat beside his car? You are not, absolutely not about to get into this stranger’s car.” I let those thoughts comfort me, as if they were true while I steadily crossed the road. I was craving it, that connection I had felt in the gallery and to be honest, I was willing to sacrifice some pride to get more of it. The voice of reason faded away the closer I got. I felt charged up from adrenaline, like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump. I stopped several feet in front of his car - the windows were tinted and the headlights prevented me from discerning who the driver was through the windshield. I stood there, absentmindedly shivering in the sharp night air, holding my breath with anticipation although my face remained stoic and unflinching. “Okay, I’m starting to understand adrenaline seeking behavior.” I thought to myself.
He let me stand there for several minutes, unmoving. I began to chastise myself for being stupid, for staring at some poor unsuspecting stranger who happened to honk their horn at the wrong time and attract a desperate lunatic woman who then blocked in their car and stared them down. My foot just about lifted to step away when the passenger door swung open.
“Don’t get in the car, Kat.” I thought to myself. “Don’t be an idiot. Do you want to get raped and murdered?” I felt my breath leave me and spiral into dissipating cloud. I could feel that same radiating warmth coming from the car, it was stronger now that the door was open. “Fuck it.” I thought, “What’s the worst that could really happen?”
