A Legal Trap Ch. 05

"So, I'm probably done here also. Did Jacob mention anything about me?"

"No, I don't know much else. Any chance you'd be up for dinner later?"

Yes... I'd like to have more of a connection, more... Did he know I wanted that or was he trying to be polite? "Sure, that would be nice."

"Great, wanna meet in the lobby. Say five-o'clock?"

What? No! I'd barely have makeup applied by five! Meet in the lobby,

that's casual, friends meeting stuff - right? "How about five-forty-five?

I literally just crawled out of bed."

"It's a date then. I'll see you in the lobby at five-forty-five."

A date? Was he just saying that as a colloquial interpretation for two

people meeting? This wasn't like a 'date' date thing, right? He wasn't

picking me up at my room, so casual - like friends hanging out. "I'll see

you then...," I replied after a couple seconds.

The line went dead and I felt a flutter in my stomach, a nervous energy

building quickly. Augh! Why is this so confusing?! I know it's new, but

does it have to be so riddled with 'newyness'. I rolled my eyes, not a real

word dummy. I needed to get moving!

March 10th 5:39 PM

I had changed my outfit twice. Going from business casual to comfortable

- dressy jeans and a cute top. The skirt I had put on first was flirty, but

none of my tops really seemed to match and totally blew the vibe. Did I

want a vibe? What is my vibe? Was I trying to be flirty? No, I just

need to relax, be me. STOP OVER THINKING EVERYTHING!!

In the end, I went with the dressy jeans, flirty top, and heels. I prayed I wasn't under dressed and when I rounded the corner to the lobby Paul was waiting - he was dressed in jeans also, with a nice polo shirt and loafers. Thank God!

"You look great," he said while awkwardly trying to hug me. I patted his back a

couple times and the hug ended as awkwardly as it began.

"Thanks, I was hoping we weren't going on a dress-up date."

He chuckled, "I probably should have said something about where I wanted

to take you. That probably would have set the tone."

Huh? Tone? What does that mean? I felt defensive and afraid I was going

to look that way also. I reached into my purse for some lip-gloss, which

would hopefully mask my feelings as I tried to apply it and replied, "Where we going?"

He was obviously excited. "I read some Yelp reviews on this hole in the wall Mexican place - it sounds amazing! I really like Mexican food, you do...," he looked a little flustered, "I, I hope you do."

He already knew I did. How? Facebook or some blog post I'd made? Don't

freak out. It's not bad that he knows this, relax. "I think you already know I like Mexican food, don't you?"

Paul was squirming a little. "I, I saw a post you were tagged in on Facebook. So, yes, I know you like Mexican food. I."

I put a finger to his lips, "It's okay, and we're good. Let's go enjoy some amazing Mexican food. I could use a drink after the last twenty-whatever

hours."

I was smiling and Paul looked relieved I had let him off the hook. Choose the hill you want to die on was all I could think. In the scope of things, it was somewhat nice he had found that out and wanted to make dinner special on our 'date'. All good, for now.

March 10th 7:13 PM

Dinner was amazing. The hole in the wall really wasn't much more than four walls, a kitchen, bathrooms - which I think were out back. It took us longer than expect to get here, but it turned out to be worth it. I was stuffed from the fresh tortillas made by three old women near the kitchen entrance, to the fresh salsa I could literally drink out of the little bowl provided - it was that good, to the loud salsa music blaring on tiny speakers placed in fake plastic trees. Saying this place was amazing really didn't do it justice.

We had to wait about ten minutes for a table, but it really didn't feel like that much of a wait. There wasn't a bar, so we milled around the entrance with eight to ten others trying to get a table. Once we were seated we agreed to order one of those a mammoth margarita's. It took up a lot of space on the rickety steel table with its wobbly legs. All the tables looked like dumpster dive saves and I noticed several other customers with the same wobble issue and the same margarita space problem.

When our food arrived, which was enough to feed four people, I could tell things were loosening up a little, but the conversation needed a different direction.

"Okay mister, no more Amber talk until... Until tomorrow, agreed?" I blurted that out because he was starting to tell me again about the same computer surveillance crap he'd told me in the car on the way here and again while we were waiting for the table.

He smiled, "Yeah, I can do that. Drink on it?"

I nodded and leaned in as he did to slurp the soupy mix of margarita with two Dose Eques beers sitting upside down in the massive glass bowl of the drink. I was smiling when I sat back, grabbing a chip and some salsa. Damn this stuff was good!

"So, what do you do for fun?"

I looked at Paul and decided to mess with him. "Don't you know already?"

He laughed, not uncomfortably, more heartfelt. Too much alcohol in you

Mr. Kline? I could feel a very nice buzz working a nice warmth all over

my body.

"I deserved that. To be honest, I don't know a lot about your present day activities - you run right?"

"Yeah, I burn off a lot of aggressions running."

"Probably sucks in the rain," he said biting into a street taco.

"I don't mind, it really frees up my brain cells after a long day of legal

research." If you're ask about running in the rain, you must not live in Seattle. I'm going to find out your story soon enough!

"That stuff boring? I mean do you like it?" He leaned in to suck some more margarita.

"Eh, it's a job. The people at Jacob's firm are nice. The money is okay for now." The look on his face made me think about being interviewed by Jacob - was this conversation between friends or was he doing research? I needed to flip this back on him.

"You know, I don't even know where you are from and you know more than enough about me. Tell me about you," I said playfully.

He was still smiling, maybe contemplating my request. "Well, I'm Paul,"

he said reaching across the table to shake hands. We did, I giggled - I had better watch my margarita intake.

"How old do you think I am," he asked.

That threw me, but I guessed. "Thirty, no more than thirty-five?"

"Not bad, I'm thirty-six," he raised an eyebrow, "Do you think I'm single, married, or divorced?"

Oh, he was older than I had originally thought - which was about the

forty mark - but you always guessed less, right? Single or married? I

gave him a mock raised eyebrow look in return, like I was studying him. "Single now, never married, had a long term relationship though that just didn't work out."

"Really? What happened to that long term relationship?" He looked genuinely interested in my trying to read him now.

"I don't know, maybe you didn't do the laundry?" I replied, trying to lighten this back up.

"Actually, I was married. She's a flight attendant, lives here in Phoenix. We made it about three good years, six in total being married, but we dated two before getting married. She's remarried now - he's a pilot. I'm over it, but still a little sore she took the dog."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I..."

"It's okay, I'm really over it. The dog thing bugs me now and then."

"So you lived here in Phoenix?"

"No, what gave you that impression?"

Paul still had an interested look on his face, not sad or annoyed, interested in whether or not I could read anything more about him - maybe? "I just thought. Well, since she was here in Phoenix..." I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and I knew my guard was down due to the alcohol.

"Nah, I live in West Seattle. Born and raised. That's why I asked you about running in the rain." He was smiling, "You look surprised by that."

I was, all this time I just assumed he was from, I don't know - New York -

then Phoenix because of this ex-wife? My heart soared a little. I felt a little more relaxed and the conversation really began to pick up. We knew all the local stuff, so it made talking about ourselves easier I think, well until politics crept into being the subject. We agreed to disagree and moved on to other topics that were easier to discuss.

I learned more about Paul in the next hour than I ever thought I would. Stupid things like he played hockey, was a Sounders season ticket holder, his parents lived in West Seattle four blocks from him, he liked all sorts of music, and still liked walking through the Pike Place Market. He was so normal and made me laugh so much at one point I was crying from laughing so hard.

"What do you think? Want to share another margarita?"

My eyes gave him a conspirator's look, "Yeah, but I doubt I would be able to walk out of here."

He got serious. "Agreed, I'm feeling it a little too and I gotta drive us back. How about we check out the groovy hotel bar scene?"

I nodded and he made a gesture toward our server. We had been talking so

much I hadn't noticed the place was half-empty. What time was it?

March 10th 9:26 PM

I had tried to pay my share of the bill, but Paul wasn't having any of it, so as we entered the hotel bar I told him the drinks were on me. I had picked up my shiny new American Express Corporate card and was hell-bent on breaking it in I told him. He laughed, told me I could surprise him with a 'fancy' rum drink, and excused himself, heading toward the restroom. I ordered two top-shelf rum and Cokes, and then sat at the same booth we'd sat in the night before.

"Our booth! So nice of them to keep it reserved for us." He picked his drink up, raised it in a salute, and then took a sip. I could tell he was thinking about it. "Tastes like a rum and Coke to me."

I laughed a little, took a sip of my drink. "Do this..." I clucked my tongue on the roof of my mouth. He did the same. We probably looked stupid making clucking sounds, but he played along. "Any after taste in your mouth?"

"No, should there be?"

"A good rum will go down smoothly, no harsh tingle in your mouth, but you

should have a nice after-glow. That's not scientific by any means, but I've always found it to be true."

"I always thought good liquor was served neat. I got no glow in my mouth," he said smiling.

"Yeah, but they only had middle of the road stuff, so the Coke helps to mask that it's really not the best stuff," I said playfully trying to defend my position.

He laughed, which I appreciated. Paul was funny, could carry on a conversation about anything and make you feel special the whole time he

was batting those hazel colored eyes at you. I've had way too much to

drink tonight I thought. Hope he doesn't do that thinking thing at me where he mind reads...

March 10th 10:59 PM

We weren't the last to leave the bar, but I had yawned a couple times over

the last fifteen minutes, apologizing profusely each time, and saying it wasn't him. He assured me he wasn't offended. We decided to call it a night. In total, I had two decent rum and Coke's, while Paul had finished his, then switched to beer - finishing two before we headed back to our rooms.

He insisted on walking me back and when we were past the front desk, and

in the hall to my room, I stopped. I put a hand on his shoulder. "These

babies need to go!" I slipped off my heels. I shrunk a couple inches and he was looking down at me. I think he said he was 5' 11" - that was probably about right.

I wasn't sloppy drunk or anything, but I was giddy and feeling playful. "You sir, may now walk me to my room, if and only if you can..." I dropped my

heels, gave him a grin before I bolted down the hallway! "If you can catch

me...." I made it to the first corner and looked back to see he had just picked up my second shoe and was trying to recover from being left in the dust. The race was on!

Nearing the elevators, I looked back and he was closing on me - stairs!

I hit the stairwell door at half-speed, then took the stairs two at a time. I was at the second floor landing when I heard him entering the stairway.

"Not fair...," he complained, but I was through to the hallway of my floor, sprinting to the end like some rowdy kid and made it to my door as he popped out into the hallway.

He dropped a shoe and looked at me pitifully, "Yeah, you cheat..." He said that just loud enough for me to hear him and not wake the entire floor. He walked the rest of the way, stopping a couple feet from me to curtsey with my heels

extended.

"Why, thank you good sir..." I wasn't winded, but I was certainly wide awake, heart thumping out of my chest, and pretty sure I was feeling that alcohol buzz now.

"You're entirely welcome my lady..."

We chuckled a little, and I fished my key card from my purse. "I had to

run with my purse, if that's any consolation."

"It's not." He looked to be about to say something. "This was a lot of fun. I needed the break from the past week of working this case. See you in the morning?"

And as high, alive, alert, tingling with the buzz from too much alcohol I

was feeling - I was really hoping, wishing he would just read my mind. It didn't look like he was getting the message. I was trying to think as loudly as I could - 'Ask to come in...' - or - 'Kiss me...'.

I considered asking him to come in, but resigned myself to his 'See you in the morning?' question was him turning down what I was thinking - it was the end of the night. My mood was broken now anyway, my spirit, I was crashing - crap...

"Yeah," I turned to swipe the keycard in the door, holding it ajar with my

foot, I turned my head toward him and smiled my best 'I'm so happy' smile.

"I had a really nice time. Goodnight Paul..."

The door clunked heavily behind me and I was in an empty room, with

crushing silence blanketing me, sucking the best of the evening away...

March 10th 11:03 PM

I physically jumped at the tap on my door. I had been standing there leaning against it for maybe fifteen seconds sinking into a dark, dark place. I looked out the peephole - it was Paul. I tried to gain my composure, confidence, opening the door slowly. "You forget something?"

Paul looked... He stepped to me, his hands reached to my waist, pulled me

to him, and kissed me...

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