Just a Little Magic Ch. 08

JUST A LITTLE MAGIC Chapter 8

Sammy and Trish started dating right after the pool party. They both seemed to be happy. She was great for him, and he was constantly going out of his way to do nice things for her.

Sammy had done something wonderful for me, too - something I hadn't been smart enough to do myself: he'd taken a photo of Sophie talking to me. I only looked at it a few thousand times.

I sent it to her immediately, attached to a short email, which took me four tries to write. I didn't want to be smarmy, but cool and distant sounded worse. Why not just admit that I'd been really struck by her, and that the pool party was still on my mind?

She replied with a link to the video of me working my magic.

I'm sure you've seen it. I've watched it three times, and I still have no idea how you did it. It was a very memorable night for me, as well. Good luck on your upcoming tour!

Ah - Sophie had been checking our webpage. We had a six-week tour of the Eastern U.S. seaboard starting in the middle of August. We had new material to try out, and some pretty famous venues to perform in. We went from Vermont to Florida.

The shows went well. Sammy was missing Trish, while Janine was ticked off at having to spend so much time with the two of us. She was seeing some tennis player while we were in New York. Maybe that was why she wasn't getting on my case for not going out with groupies every night.

That's not to say that I didn't go out with women at all - because I did. But after a couple of times, I discovered that my heart just wasn't in it. It might have been a case of 'been there, done that'. You may find it hard to believe, but near-anonymous casual sex just wasn't the be-all and end-all for me.

Part of that might have been because of Danielle. I knew the difference between fucking a groupie and making love to a woman who really cared about me. I'd spent quite a few hours trying to figure out what had gone wrong between us. The more I thought about it, though, the more my head hurt - literally.

And then there was Sophie. Was there something there, between us? Could there be more? I couldn't quite see how, since she was tied to her job, in one place, while my career meant frequent travel.

I understood that we needed to make money. This was Sammy's sole source of income, and we were still trying to amass a war-chest for the future. Nor had I forgotten what this whole thing was all about. It was getting closer all the time: the 12 women that I would have to seduce, and then impregnate.

But my thoughts still kept turning to Sophie. The temptation was there to phone or text her, to send her clever or funny links, just to remind her that I was thinking of her. Instead, I wrote myself little notes on hotel stationery, and turned those into a well-thought out email (okay, a better-thought out email) every week or two.

I asked how her new job was going, told her how well Sammy and Trish were doing, and mentioned some of the highlights of the tour.

She responded. Her replies told me a little about her job (including the fact that she was too busy to have much of a social life - that was good news), and she asked about me.

We got home at the beginning of October. That, I decided, justified a phone call.

- "Pete? How are you?"

- "I'm well. I just wanted to check that you were still coming down for Thanksgiving."

- "Of course I am. I won't get in until late Friday night, and Sunday is spoken for. But maybe we could get together on the Saturday?"

- "How do you feel about Dim Sum?" I'd learned a great deal about Chinese food from Danielle.

- "Sounds wonderful." said Sophie. "I'm looking forward to it, Robin."

- "How long do you plan on calling me Robin?"

- "Probably forever. Just to remind you of how we met."

I had most of two weeks to wait, and to think of Sophie.

Chinese food for brunch. I'd given the matter considerable thought. A light meal, early in the day, was an opportunity to talk, to get to know each other, without any pressure or expectations. It most definitely was not a prelude to seduction.

I was being especially careful. I didn't want to mess this up. Maybe it was serendipity, or Fate. I felt something special just hearing her voice. And I wasn't about to rush anything. That might sound strange for a guy who'd been with as many women as I had. I wasn't lacking in sexual experience; it was my dating experience that was severely limited.

Somehow, though, our first date was ... epic.

She already loved Dim Sum - I'd chosen well. We talked throughout the meal, without the slightest awkwardness or hesitation.

I learned that her parents had divorced when she was only 6; she'd grown up in Montreal with her father and his second wife. Her mother (and her second husband) lived in Toronto, as did her Aunt, the only member of her extended family who'd kept in touch with her through her childhood and teens.

Sophie wanted to know more about my family, and especially about Sammy, who was now dating her friend Trish.

- "Do you think it's serious?" she asked.

- "I sure hope so. He was crazy about her before the pool party."

You might think that I was reading her mind the whole time. I wasn't.

For one thing, mind-reading is very taxing. I couldn't possibly have kept up that kind of effort for a solid hour. It also requires concentration. In order to 'hear' Sophie's thoughts, I would have had to stop paying attention to what she was actually saying. It's also near-impossible to talk and mind-read at the same time.

More importantly, though, I wasn't approaching Sophie as a one-night stand, or like a groupie. With those women, I read their minds to make sure that they truly wanted to have sex. Once that was confirmed, I only had to pick up enough of their thoughts so that I could impress them a little more, and 'seal the deal', as Janine put it.

After that, I read their minds during sex, so that I could amaze them by providing exactly the kind of stimulation they were looking for, at exactly the right time (or just a little later - teasing and delay are powerful weapons).

But I was hoping for so much more than that with Sophie.

With Danielle, I'd been at ease. It wasn't necessary to try to impress her all the time. We were comfortable in each other's company. I could relax, with her, and just be myself.

Of course, that didn't mean that I wasn't picking up surface thoughts here and there - I was. But I wasn't snooping in her mind to find out everything about her, or exactly what she thought of me.

I didn't have to do that with Sophie, either. She had the refreshing habit of telling me exactly what she was thinking.

- "This was a wonderful idea. I'm sorry that the meal has to end. I just don't think that I could eat another bite."

- "Or drink another cup of tea."

- "But I don't know if I want to go straight home." she said. "Do you think we might ...?"

- "Would you like to see High Park?"

She smiled, revealing all of her dimples.

We walked through the park, visited the animals, and sat on the grass near Grenadier Pond. She took my hand. It was only then that I realized that neither of us had spoken for some time. We'd been walking in companionable silence, without feeling the pressure to come up with a topic of conversation.

- "This is lovely." she said, finally. Sophie turned and looked me in the eye. "Thank you for bringing me here."

- "Thank you for coming." I said.

After a couple of hours, I could tell that she still wasn't sick of me. I raised the possibility of getting a drink.

- "Oh? Is there a good pub nearby?" she said.

- "More than one." I took her to St James Gate (named after the Guinness brewery in Dublin).

To my amazement, Sophie was perfectly happy to order a pint of Guinness.

- "You drink beer?"

- "I drink good beer." she said. "Is that so strange? That doesn't mean that I'd say no to a good glass of wine, on a different occasion."

The conversation never flagged. We talked our heads off.

- "You're amazing." I said.

- "I'm glad that you think so. But what makes you say that?"

- "I just realized ... I don't know how to explain it. We talked all through Dim Sum. I never felt like I had to think of a topic. It just ... flowed."

- "It did." she agreed.

- "But then, at the Park - we were just walking. Not talking at all."

- "We didn't have to."

- "That's what I mean - it was ..."

- "Nice?"

- "Better than that. And now - we're talking again, and it just feels so easy. So ... right."

I immediately felt like a fool. That was possibly too much, too soon.

- "I couldn't agree more." she said. "That's how I felt at the pool party. Or do you think that I'm in the habit of giving my number to strange magicians the very first time I meet them?"

- "No ..."

- "Are you hungry, Pete? I am. Do you think we should get something to eat?"

I got Sophie home by 10:30 that night - exactly 12 1/2 hours after I'd picked her up.

***

Sammy and Trish were doing extremely well.

- "Dude ... I owe you for this - big time."

- "You did it yourself, Sam."

- "No. I'm going to name our first child after you, I swear."

- "Pete? Or Robin?"

- "One of each."

Sophie was back in Toronto for Christmas, but only for a few days; she had get back to Montreal to spend New Year's Eve with her Dad.

Somehow, she managed to squeeze in time for a second date with me, and then a double date with Sammy and Trish.

Sophie enjoyed going out with them on our third date. She wasn't pretentious, or artificial, and thoroughly appreciated the company of people who were the same way.

I'd held Sophie's hand, on two more occasions after our first date. I'd kissed her cheek, after our second. Yet I was still being careful not to rush her. Yes, I'd read her mind a little.

Sometimes, she was way ahead of me. On other occasions, though, I could hear her doubts and fears. The distance. Time - between her demanding career and my weeks on tour, there weren't that many opportunities for us.

Some days, her thoughts were a perfect match for mine. Neither of us wanted to rush this (whatever 'this' was). It was too precious to spoil.

After our 3rd date, though, Sophie was a little bit ahead of me again. I dropped her off in front of her mother's house.

- "Is there something you're waiting for?" she said. "Some kind of signal?"

- "Pardon?"

- "I thought you said that you could read minds, sometimes."

She wanted me to kiss her. She'd been thinking about it on our last date. A first kiss. I was more nervous than I'd been at my Prom.

Sophie initiated it. She was 5'6'' - nowhere near as short as Danielle, or Janine. She leaned over, in the front seat of my car, and then pulled my head down, to reach my lips with hers.

Her lips were amazing - why had I been so nervous? Her kiss was perfect: soft, warm, and just moist enough. She held me close, and briefly sought out my tongue with hers.

She cut the kiss short long before I would have.

- "Call me." she whispered.

***

In late January, we flew to London, England, for the start of a 6-week European tour. Lillian and Janine felt that it was time for us to start building an international reputation. Janine had organized all of the bookings, through a British agent she knew.

It was my first time overseas - and Sammy's, too. But we didn't have all that much time for sightseeing. We did four shows in London, then Reading, Oxford, Luton and Cambridge.

Amsterdam, the Hague, Antwerp, Brussels ... Bruges and Ghent, Lille, and Paris. Janine and I were able to use our French routines again.

And if you're wondering how I could read the minds of people who were thinking in Dutch, or in Flemish ... the answer is very simple: magic.

I discovered firsthand the international appeal of our act; people everywhere understand playing cards, and they appreciated the visual aspects of our show just as much as Canadian and American audiences did.

Sammy was missing Trish desperately. I thought of Sophie often, too. I wondered if there was any future in our friendship - had we progressed far enough to call it a relationship?

I still sent her an email every week or so. Sammy was in touch with Trish several times a day: email, text, phone, video phone ...

Fortunately, Janine was having difficulties with our British agent. His name was Martin, and he thought that I was an idiot. He spent most of his time trying to get into Janine's pants. He didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word 'no'.

Janine couldn't simply kick Martin in the balls, or make him wet his pants. We were still dependent on him, to a certain extent, for the success of our tour. So she resorted to using me as a shield. She let Martin know that we were a couple.

That was good news for me, because this way, she wasn't bothering me to go out with groupies. She couldn't very well let Martin see me openly cheating on her. She needed me nearby on those occasions when he became really persistent. I could also spend my time with Sammy. He wanted to talk about Trish, which was fine with me.

There was no way that Sammy was going to cheat on her. As for me ... I just didn't need more one-night stands. It wasn't all about Sophie. I mean, she could easily have a boyfriend in Montreal. We hadn't talked about our 'status', or anything like that. But I'd never caught the slightest hint of a thought of somebody else from her.

I dealt with that fear the old-fashioned way; I just didn't worry about it. For now, I was content to hang out with Sammy, see a few of the sights, and think about Sophie.

- "I've seen her a grand total of four times, Sammy. That's it. Why do I spend so much time thinking about her?"

- "Quality, Dude. Not just quantity."

- "Do you think I'm idealizing her? You know, making her out to be some kind of perfect woman? I mean, I've never seen her lose her temper. She's never been petty or cruel. But what if she's vain, or selfish - and I just don't know it yet?"

- "I highly doubt that." said Sam. "It's way more likely that she's exactly what you see."

- "But we're always on our best behaviour when we get together. It's kind of - artificial, you know. I've never seen her at her worst."

- "I've never seen Trish lose her shit. You don't hear me complaining."

- "That's because Trish is an angel, and you're incredibly lucky."

Sammy held up his hands. "No argument there. But why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that Sophie isn't a sweetheart, too?"

- "I don't know."

- "Haven't you been emailing her?"

- "Yeah. Every week or two."

- "I don't know how you do that. I'd be contacting her all day long. But she answers you, right?"

- "She does." Sammy was right. If she had some terrible character flaws, they would have come across one way or another.

- "And you enjoy her company. I know you do. Dude - why are you over-thinking this?"

- "Thanks, Sammy."

- "That's what I'm here for. Sage advice, excellent company. It's your round, by the way."

***

I turned 23 years old on March 15.

Sammy finally came through for me. I'd been bugging him to set up a gig for us in Montreal. He got us a booking at the St Denis theatre on April 11th. It was one of Montreal's classic venues for music, comedy, and specialty acts.

The date was also four days after Sophie's birthday.

I sent Sophie a pair of tickets, and asked if she could make it.

-"Of course I can!" she answered. "I only need one ticket, though. Are you free the following day?"

- "I am."

I can't tell you how thrilled I was that she only wanted one ticket.

- "Plan on spending it with me."

The show was fine. I was a little too conscious of Sophie being there, but I was certainly keyed up. And after the show ... there she was. She looked fantastic.

- "You were so good." she said.

- "I'm so glad you're here."

- "Where else would I be? Are you at all hungry? How about a late dinner?"

- "That sounds wonderful."

Sophie took me to a little Greek restaurant. She was watching me closely, with the merest hint of a smile on her face.

- "This isn't a tour, is it?"

- "No ... it's just ..."

- "An excuse to come to Montreal." she said. "And the fact that it's the night before Valentine's day ... that's not a coincidence, either - is it?"

- "That was just ... luck." I confessed. "I've actually been pushing Sammy to set up a show in Montreal since last July - after the pool party."

It was our 4th date. Sophie was determined to be even more forthright than I was. She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers.

- "Just so you know," she said, "when you take me home tonight, I'm going to invite you in."

- "You are?"

- "Yes. And you're welcome to stay for the rest of the night, if you'd like."

- "That's ... a wonderful offer." My heart was hammering in my chest.

- "I think we're both ready, don't you?" she said.

- "Yes. Yes, I think we are."

- "In a way, I think I was ready after our afternoon in the park. I appreciate the fact that you've gone very slowly with me. It shows patience, and self-control."

- "I didn't want to rush you."

- "And you haven't. But there seems to be something very special between us. I have to admit ... I'm curious to see how deep it goes."

- "You mean, if we're physically compatible?"

- "That too."

Wow. Conversations I'd never expected to have ... Sophie was so open. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Aren't you curious too, Pete?"

- "About you? From the moment we first met. No - that's not quite true - from the second time I looked at you."

- "The second?"

I had to explain. She was flattered, I think.

- "So it was love at second sight?" she asked.

We skipped dessert.

I was going home with a beautiful woman who wanted to have sex with me - something I'd done on dozens of occasions before. Why did it feel so different this time?

- "I've never done this before." she said.

- "Pardon?"

- "I've never been so forward. I like to think that I'm reasonably confident, but I'm not in the habit of being so direct."

- "I think it's wonderful."

- "Will you be direct with me, too?"

- "I can try. Sophie, I've been crazy about you since you turned your head in Brian's pool, and caught me looking at you."

She laughed. "I would have been disappointed if you weren't looking at me."

- "But I've been thinking of you all of this time. Ever since you suggested that our meeting was serendipity."

- "Serendipitous." she said.

- "Marvelous word. Words."

Her apartment was small, and she had more framed pictures than she could fit on the walls. Several of them were stacked behind her armchair.

- Please - have a seat." she said.

I chose her couch, and sat down.

"Would you like something to drink?"

- "No." I said.

She smiled. "Good." Then she shook out her long dark hair. "I'd like to try something else I've never done. Please - bear with me."

Sophie stripped for me. One article of clothing at a time, she gradually revealed her body. I didn't say a word. I could hardly believe that she had the courage to do this.

She moved with a kind of sensual grace. Every movement was slow, and deliberate; she never seemed off-balance. First she unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a black bra. Then she turned her back to me, and removed the shirt entirely.

Her hair was so long, it fell all the way down her back, almost to her ass. Sophie slowly unfastened her bra, and removed it.

Then she turned around, and leaned back against the bare wall. She'd turned her head to the side, so that I could see her profile. She closed her eyes, and let me gaze at her.