Half the Man Ch. 04

Dylan pumped his fist and headed her way but slowed when he realized she was with someone. He didn't want to intrude and thought it might be best to try again tomorrow. He was about to leave when the man jumped up and pointed a finger at her. Dylan was surprised that the hairs on his neck stood up when the man yelled at the woman. He couldn't make out what was said, but the tone was anything but friendly. Finally the man threw up his hands and stalked off. She looked the other way, apparently upset.

Dylan quickly walked over and heard a soft sigh. His heart felt heavy, but he had to talk to her. He cleared his throat and she turned her head. Her large eyes opened wide when she realized who it was.

Dylan took out a small piece of paper and in a serious voice, "I have a cleaning bill that you need to take care of. Do you realize how difficult and expensive mustard stains are to get out?"

The woman looked crestfallen at his words. She reached into her purse. "No, I don't. H...How much is it?" she whispered and pulled out her wallet.

"Here, you read it."

Dylan handed her the paper, which she unfolded and read. Her eyes opened wide, but this time in disbelief. She looked up and saw the sparkle in his golden eyes and the big smile on his face. She wiped the incipient tears from her eyes before laughing.

"I understand and accept your kind apology. I will gladly pay this price for 'tie-dying' your shirt."

Dylan relieved she had a sense of humor bowed, "Thank you milady." He offered his hand and introduced himself. "My name is Dylan Hunt."

She grasped it and replied, "Harper, Harper Smythe."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Smythe. Will the day after tomorrow work for you?"

"Let me check my calendar good sir." Harper smiled and studied her phone. "I do believe I can squeeze you in."

He chuckled, "Wonderful. I will inform Emilio to have his finest ready," 'And,' he thought, 'hide the mustard too.'

"I'll pick you up at noon—oh, where should I meet you?"

"Noon is fine, and one of the benches at the north end works for me," she replied with a smile on her face.

He kissed her hand, "In two days milady Harper." Dylan waved goodbye and triumphantly returned to the office. Harper watched him leave and this time her blue eyes moistened with happiness.

****

Dylan patted his pocket and grinned as he left the office to meet Harper. He looked forward to finishing his apology. He believed this would be the turning point he desperately needed so he could move on with his life. He was very tired of his life being as if each time he took two steps forward, he was forced to take one step back. He hoped soon it would be two steps forward and none back.

He groaned at the step analogy because today he had to walk slower, a lot slower. His shoes didn't have the heel lift to compensate for his short left leg. He had decided to wear a different pair this morning and neglected to transfer the orthotic. Well, actually he forgot. He knew it was missing when he stepped into the car, but that morning he'd been too lazy to go back for it. He had gone without it before for short stretches and figured one day wouldn't hurt. He figured wrong.

Without the lift, his gait changed and after being on his feet most of the morning his body protested. It was a domino effect. First the ankle hurt, then his knee became tender, followed by an agonizing pain in his hip. The limp that was all but gone normally was now very noticeable. He became self-conscious and thought about canceling today, but realized he had no way to contact Harper. Instead he took a couple of ibuprofen and by the time that lunchtime came, the pain was manageable.

He made his way to where Harper should be sitting and sure enough, there she was. He took a breath and walked as normally as possible.

"Hello Ms. Smythe! Ready to finish paying for the shirt you destroyed?" he asked with a serious demeanor.

Harper smiled when she heard him. She put her tablet down and looked up. Immediately she saw the pain reflected in his golden eyes. "Are you okay Dylan?"

Dylan, surprised by her perceptiveness, was about to blow off her question but instead acknowledged it. "As a matter of fact, my leg is sore. Thank you for asking. Shall we?" Dylan presented his crooked arm to Harper.

She slid her tablet in her purse stood up and took his arm. Dylan looked up, thinking, 'Definitely taller than six-one.'

"I'm six-foot-four."

Dylan did a double take, "How did you know what I was thinking?"

She chuckled, "It's always the first question asked by the men I go out with. So I simply answer it before they ask."

Dylan laughed, "Economical."

"I guess it is." She laughed then she became serious, "What's wrong with your leg?"

"It's an old injury from a few years ago that decided to flare up. Nothing to worry about," he replied cheerily.

Harper squeezed his arm as an affirmation and with a goofy 'little girl' voice asked, "What are we having for lunch? I am a growing girl you know."

Dylan smiled at her silly sounding question and simply said, "It's a surprise."

He quickly forgot about his sore leg and limp as they walked together to the lunch cart. He enjoyed her company. She had a quick wit and was very personable. She told him where she worked and what she did there. Dylan reciprocated and gave her a brief background on his job. He had just finished his explanation when they arrived at Emilio's.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Emilio's — the finest lunch cart in the park."

Emilio winked at Dylan then looked up at Harper. "Madam, your friend has taken the liberty to pre-order your luncheon." He pointed to a picnic table, "There you go. Bon-appétit!"

"Thank you Emilio," Dylan replied in mock seriousness before escorting Harper to their table. She laughed when she saw the place settings: paper plates, plastic flatware and a bud vase with a single plastic rose. On each plate were two hot dogs, a bag of chips and carrot sticks along with a packet of ranch dressing. In the center of the table stood two water bottles and what looked like pecan pie for dessert.

Dylan motioned for Harper to sit. When she was seated he very carefully sat down. He took a second to get comfortable then looked at the smiling woman across the table.

"Does everything meet with milady's expectations?" he asked.

She scanned the table and feigned confusion, "It most certainly does except I don't see–any—mustard."

Dylan chuckled, "Ahh yes. Considering madam's proclivity with squeeze bottles, I decided on an alternative." He reached into his pocket and pulled out several different packets.

"We have brown, whole grain, German, yellow and of course Dijon as your selections today."

Harper laughed, "Why thank you, I think I would like yellow on one and whole grain on the second."

"Excellent choices! May I apply them for you?"

"What's the matter, don't trust me?" she asked, her voice dripping with phony indignation.

"As a matter of fact..." Dylan chuckled then handed her one packet of each.

The lunch went well and too soon it was over. Dylan winced when he tried to stand and sat back down. Harper rushed to his side to help him up. He steadied himself and patted her arm to say thank you. Dylan cleared off the picnic table and hobbled to the trash.

"I hope you enjoyed today; I know I did." Dylan said happily. "Perhaps in the future we can do this again. Consider your debt to be paid–in–full."

Harper laughed at his last remark and replied, "I'd like that. Here is my card, just call me." She leaned down and kissed his bearded cheek. "Thank you Dylan. I hope your leg feels better. See you soon."

Harper picked up her purse and headed back to work. Dylan thought lunch went pretty well as he watched her walk away. He felt much better and hoped he could put the past behind him. He even considered calling her sometime.

He carefully hobbled to Emilio and gave him a twenty. "What's this? You already paid me. I can't accept it."

"Sure you can my friend. You did more than I expected, and this is just a small token of my appreciation."

"Well, thank you. Ever since you came here two-and-a-half years ago you've been very gracious and I appreciate that." Emilio hugged his friend, "Dylan if you don't mind me asking, what do you think of her?"

"I think she is very nice and I hope someday she finds the love of her life. Anyway, thanks again I have to get back."

Dylan thought about Harper as he made the slow trek back to work. He was very truthful when he told Emilio she was very nice and since he was being honest, he thought it was the best 'non-date' he had since the divorce.

He liked her, but didn't feel a physical connection. Dylan preferred his women much shorter and curvy, with long flowing hair. Harper was very tall and from what he noticed on the smallish side up top. She was skinny with no hips or ass to speak of. Except for her height she was rather—plain. He envisioned her shoulder length black hair. He wondered how it would look blonde and longer when suddenly he stopped and cursed.

"Jeez you stupid fucking ass," he chastised himself, "What the hell are you doing picking her body apart and comparing it with your previous women?" He paused, "Am I such a shallow person that I only care about what a woman looks like? Shit, she's friendly, nice and helpful. Her voice is melodic and I could swim in those huge blue eyes. Yet all I think about is her tits, ass, hair and, oh yeah: how tall she is."

He shook his head in disgust. "AND who the fuck am I? I grew a beard to cover my past, my left leg is shorter than my right, and don't get me started on the middle one. My marriage lasted less than a year and my love life the past four years, if you could even call it that, has been pretty much in the dumpster. The last 'girlfriend' screwed me up so badly that I couldn't talk to another woman for six months. Then I have the audacity to compare Harper to them?"

Dylan sighed and without thinking started a brisk walk to cool off. His left side protested after only two steps and the pain forced him back one step. The analogy was not lost. 'No more,' he thought and at a much slower pace, one step at a time he returned to the office.

The following Wednesday, Dylan pulled out Harper's card for the umpteenth time and was about to put it back in his wallet when instead he plucked up his courage, picked up his phone and punched in her number. A sweet voice answered and buoyed his confidence.

"Hi milady, its Dylan. I was wondering if you would like to meet for lunch this Friday at 'Emilio's in the Park'."

"Straight to the point I see. I like that." She paused for just a moment before a replying, "Friday would be fine, but could we do it tomorrow instead?"

Dylan rejoiced on the inside, but in a normal voice, "Tomorrow is perfect. Noon?"

"11:45 A.M., north end."

"That is also perfect. See you tomorrow."

She replied, "Super. Thanks for calling, Dylan, and I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was gone.

Dylan put the phone down sat back in his chair and thought, 'No more going backwards, no matter what. If this works out great, if not that's great too. No more reversing course. It's all forward from now on. L'audace, l'audace, toujours l'audace!'

Harper immediately asked about his leg when they met. Her thoughtfulness set the tone for a highly pleasurable day and an encore on Friday. Dylan appreciated her company and they set another lunch date for the following Tuesday.

Their conversations centered on current topics, or work and any references to their personal histories were only by allusion. They met one to two times a week for almost a month before Dylan asked her to dinner and a movie. Harper enthusiastically accepted with a hard kiss on his lips. Dylan was pleasantly surprised by her aggressiveness and blissfully shocked when he felt a familiar tingle.

He drove to Harper's apartment complex and wound his way inside. He found her building and knocked on the door. Dylan had never seen Harper outside of work and was speechless when the door opened. Harper was dressed in a light blue mini-dress with black leggings and boots. She complemented the look with a dark black jacket and a silver chained necklace. Her large blue eyes shimmered with a touch of eye shadow enhanced by thick, sensuous eyeliner. Her cheekbones were framed by her jet black hair and her ever-present bangs glowed. The finishing touch was a light pink lipstick that looked wet and—sexy. Dylan shivered with passion and knew if things were his pre-accident norm, he would have broken the zipper on his pants.

Harper's voice was music to his ears, "Hi there handsome. Shall we go?"

She laughed hard when Dylan walked right past her.

"No silly! Not 'go in' my apartment, but 'go out' on our date." Dylan blushed through his beard.

Embarrassed he turned and faced her mesmerizing loveliness, "For a moment I was taken aback. You look so beautiful that my mind was not really focused on what I was doing. Sorry..."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

Dylan gazed far up and deep into her large winsome eyes. He whispered, "Yes." He almost got lost inside the orbs of her soul when he suddenly exclaimed, "You're taller!" He looked down to see her black boots had heels—four-inch heels.

Dylan backed away and with apparent irritation asked, "Heels Harper, really? You do understand that instead of five inches, you are now nine inches taller and completely tower over me?"

Harper initially felt terrible; she just wanted to look good, and the boots combined with the leggings really shaped her legs. Then she remembered their first meeting and inside she laughed, 'Oh no you don't, not again.' She answered him with a puppy dog face, "I'm sorry, I'll go change..."

"You most certainly will not," he interrupted, and lovingly continued, "I don't give a damn if you are ten inches taller, in fact I don't care if you're two feet taller. I am honored to be your date, and I can look up into your big blues all night long."

Harper outwardly ignored his loving words and replied, "But you said... and I thought—and you...you 'short' bastard, you were messing with me!" She laughed out loud, and smacked him on the shoulder.

"Guilty as charged." Then with a sad face he added, "But I do have one regret."

"I'm afraid to ask, but I'll take the bait. What is your regret?"

He loudly sighed, "There's no music! With those heels I would be at the perfect height for slow dancing—wouldn't you agree?" and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Dylan!" Her eyes narrowed angrily as she yelled, "We haven't even been on one date outside of lunches and you're already scheming to cop a feel? My goodness what are you? A pervert?"

Her outburst startled him and with his head down, he sheepishly replied, "I'm sorry, I was just kid..."

Harper grabbed Dylan and pulled him to her. She ran her fingers through his sandy brown hair, his cheek firmly sandwiched between her two doves.

"Just remember, you're not the only one with a wry sense of humor," she whispered in a serious voice.

Before he could react she pushed him away and headed to his car. Dylan, left behind on her porch laughed, 'She turned the tables and played me—she played me.'

He hurried to open her car door and as he walked to the driver's side he thought, 'Every time I see her I learn something new. There is more to her than I ever thought, and I'm liking it. Dinner should be—interesting.'

They arrived at the Cineplex and agreed that no popcorn was necessary. Dylan purchased the tickets and escorted his date into the theater as coming attractions lit up the screen. Harper whispered after the second preview she was thirsty and gave him $5 for a bottle of water. He chuckled kissed her cheek and handed the money back. He returned just as the lights dimmed and the feature started. He reached Harper and noticed two things. The center armrest was up and her jacket was off. Dylan sat down, handed her the bottle and enjoyed the warmth of skin-to-skin contact. She curled into him and another part of him warmed—his heart.

The movie ended and the closing credits started. Just before the house lights came up Harper put her jacket on. Dylan got up to help and thought he saw a touch of color on her right arm before her jacket covered it. He was curious about what he saw, but didn't say anything. He took her hand, gave it a kiss and they left for dinner.

The restaurant had a dance floor and, although they were fairly busy, the hostess seated the couple after a ten-minute wait. Harper kept her jacket on as Dylan's curiosity grew. They ordered drinks as the music started. Dylan hadn't danced since before the accident, but tonight that was going to change. He got up and nodded to his doe eyed date.

"Do I have to take my boots off?"

"Of course not," he answered with a smile.

She grinned and the two moved onto the floor. Dylan held his own for the first fast dance, but after the second he was ready to sit. Harper sensed his pain and wondered about his leg. They were almost back at their table when a song with a much slower tempo started.

"Is your leg doing okay?" she inquired.

"It's a bit sore, but manageable."

"Great!" she said before dragging him back onto the dance floor.

Dylan balked initially, then Harper quipped, "Don't worry you pervert. I'll keep you at arm's length."

It wasn't that earlier incident which caused his hesitation; he had never slow danced with a taller woman, so he was a bit perplexed as to just how to go about it. Harper quickly understood his dilemma. She grasped his hand and placed it on the small of her back. The other she held and they danced. Throughout the song they never took their eyes off each other and before Dylan realized it, his chin was nestled between her breasts once again.

Uncertain of what response to expect, he looked up into her face. Harper winked and whispered, "You know when I said I would keep you at arm's length? I lied."

Dylan let go of her hand, slid his hand up her arm and caressed her long neck. Harper closed her eyes and softly moaned. He eased her head down and soon their lips touched. He gently parted her lips and tickled her tongue with his. She pressed harder and thrust her tongue deep inside. Now there were two dances, one on the floor and the second in his mouth. When the music ended, the kiss did too. Dylan felt the love and serenely led Harper to their table.

The short silence ended before they sat down. Dylan asked, "You seem warm would you like me to take your jacket?"

"Please."

He slid the darkness off her shoulders and placed it on the back of her chair. He briefly caressed her shoulders and held her chair as she sat. He didn't peek. Once seated, he walked around the table and eased into the chair. He raised his eyes and was astonished. She had a—'sleeve.' The tattoo was a tree with a long twisted trunk and leaves of green. There were large flowers of many different hues on several branches and a circle of mountains with snowy peaks below her elbow. The colors were beautifully blended and shaded with care. This was truly a work of art. He sat back in his chair and simply stared.

Harper smiled across the table at the astonished man, "Well?"

"Well what?" was his befuddled reply.

She held her arm out for him to examine, "Do you like it?"

He thought it was pretty and assured her with sincerity, "It is very bewitching — a work of art and I find it exquisite. I'm surprised I hadn't noticed it before tonight."

She laughed, "Come on Dylan, you know where I work." Then she mockingly recited, "The company dress code mandates there are to be no visible tattoos or facial jewelry in order to maintain a professional non-distractive work environment. This policy will be strictly enforced, blah, blah, blah." She took a short breath, "So that's why you haven't seen it, because I only wear long sleeve blouses to work."