Odalisque

"I think I've made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to, I was only curious. And as a girl who doesn't date, I'm in no place to judge you." Callie curtailed her explanation when the waiter returned. The couple placed their orders, and the waiter hurried off, disappearing into the kitchen.

"So, you told me you'd give me the long story tonight. About why you don't date."

"I never agreed to that."

"I'm curious to hear it anyway."

"I really just don't have the time. I want out of this job, you know? I want something better. If it weren't part of my job, I wouldn't even party. Probably wouldn't ever see my friends."

"Is the job you have now really so bad? Are you that unhappy with it?" As if on cue, Callie's phone beeped. She shot it a disdainful look.

"Yes, I am. And it's my boss, sorry. Hold on." Callie furrowed her brow as she texted. The look on her face was odd and made Tyler uneasy. She put the phone down and leaned back, her face pale, even more agitated than she had been before the text.

"Everything all right?"

"Peachy." She forced a smile. At that moment, the waiter emerged from the kitchen with their food, and Tyler silently thanked him for his perfect timing. He set pumpkin ravioli in front of Callie and linguine with lobster in front of Tyler. As they went to work on their respective plates, Tyler looked up at Callie, waiting to catch her attention.

"So, what do you like?" he asked as he casually leaned back into his seat.

"What do you mean? Like, food? Or..."

"Anything." Callie looked puzzled and watched Tyler's face as though it might yield clues as to what he meant. Finding nothing to help her besides a smile, she did her best.

"Well," she sighed, "I like music. I used to play cello in high school. I like design, interior decorating. Old movies." Tyler nodded along. "I like fashion, if that wasn't obvious. How about you? What do you like?"

"I like music, too. Some modern, popular stuff because it's necessary to my job, but a lot of classical and jazz, too. I like old, stuffy writing. I like collecting art. And I think I'm getting to like you very much." Callie could feel the red bloom on her cheeks as she brought her fork down with unnecessary force into her ravioli. "You're cute when you're embarrassed." He marveled at how composed she could be when she flirted, yet how unnerved she was by sweetness and sincerity. "Enjoying your dinner?"

The subject change was not lost on Callie. She appreciated it. "It's wonderful."

***

On returning to Callie's apartment building, Tyler ushered her into the elevator. Once inside, the doors slid shut, and he looked at her questioningly, reaching out to touch her hair. His fingertips glided past the silky gold chain of one earring, then caressed her shoulder.

"So what does your rulebook have to say about kissing?"

"I could make an allowance," she murmured, once again savoring how it felt to be trapped by him. Tyler pushed the 'stop' button and leaned forward, touching her face lightly with his own, the side of his nose against her nose, his breath blowing warm over her lips. What little space was between them was charged with electricity and thick with humidity.

His kiss was tentative at first. He pulled her closer to him, crushing her soft breasts against his chest, feeling something flutter in him at the awareness of having her so close to him. His only thought was to relish her, to allow her to invade each of his senses, and to feel, even if just for a moment, that she belonged to him and him alone.

He pulled back, then ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes never leaving hers. The elevator doors opened; a tenant was poised to step on to the elevator but even she recognized the tension between the couple, staring as intently as they did at each other, oblivious to her. Callie was the first to come to her senses, glancing over at the woman nervously and feeling a quick pang of embarrassment. Callie stepped out, allowing the woman to pass as Tyler followed her out to her apartment door.

As she fumbled for her keys, she briefly considered asking him to come in. She grimaced, recognizing that it was a terrible idea, albeit an attractive one. Tyler touched her chin and turned her face toward him.

"I'll be going to a concert in the park tomorrow. Why don't you join me?"

"Another date?" She eyed him skeptically.

"Is a concert too serious? Maybe you're going to have to write out all your rules for me so I don't misstep." Callie pursed her lips at the sarcasm in his voice, and Tyler picked up on her displeasure. "I'm sorry. But really, think about it. You said you liked music, and I'm not so bad. Call me when you've made a decision either way." Tyler left her with one long, searing look.

***

The next morning, Callie lazed in bed, taking her time to wake up. Remembering Tyler's offer, she sat up in bed with a start and stared at her phone like an eightball that might tell her what to do next. The truth was, she missed Tyler already. She had dreamed of him, and then, even half asleep, she had wondered where he was. And what was the harm? What kind of trouble could they get into at a concert in the park? It wasn't as though she'd be alone with him.

It wasn't like her to feel so nervous about anything. Or anyone. But Tyler had done something to get under her skin. He'd gotten into her blood. She could feel her pulse pick up when she was around him. Even on this cool summer morning, just thinking about him made her sweat. Tired of her indecisiveness, she reached for the phone and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Tyler? Hi. It's Callie."

"You just wake up? You sound tired."

"You got it."

"You sound lovely when you've just woken up. What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking about what you said about today..."

"The concert."

"Yeah. I'm in. If you still are, that is."

"I am still in. I'll pick you up at five thirty."

The time spent between their phone call and Tyler's arrival seemed interminable. She sat at her laptop to work on a blog entry for Monday, but she only stared at the screen, agitated. Getting ready was a welcome distraction, and she was relieved when she finally heard her doorbell ring.

"I'm glad you're coming with me. What made you decide?" Tyler asked when they were in the car.

"I just wanted to get out of the apartment," she lied. Tyler turned away to hide his smirk, in disbelief at her transparency. "Besides," she continued, aware of how obvious she was, "I think it'll be a welcome break from working, too. I've been struggling with this new article all day."

"I do hope this proves to be more fun for you than work. But I can't make any promises."

The park wasn't far from her apartment, and it had taken less than ten minutes for them to arrive. Tyler helped her out of the car and gave her a moment to take it in. She'd never seen this park before. The stage had been set up at one end, with a wide expanse of grass in the middle. Beyond it was a children's playground. And, at the other end, lush greenery that gradually gave way to tall trees, then gently sloped up to a hillside.

The concert had already started, and big blankets and chairs lined the park grounds. Tyler led Callie through the winding maze of people and blankets and found their way to an open spot. He took a folded blanket out of a canvas bag and shook it out, then laid it down in front of them.

"So I don't want to sound totally ignorant," Callie started as she sat down, "though I probably will anyway -- what are we listening to, exactly?"

"It's a Mingus tribute concert." Tyler sat next to her and continued to rummage through his bag. "This jazz orchestra is incredible. Especially the bassist." He started to remove different containers and sandwiches in wax wrap, then plastic utensils and even plastic salt and pepper shakers.

"What's all this?" Callie asked. She knew exactly what it was, but that didn't diminish her surprise.

"Dinner. I wasn't sure what you'd want so I had Donald pack us a few different kinds of sandwiches. And I brought pumpkin pie for dessert because I knew for sure you liked pumpkin, so I hope I didn't go wrong there." Callie felt oddly touched, even though she knew Tyler hadn't prepared it himself. It still took some thoughtfulness to give her so many options, to remember that she'd picked the pumpkin ravioli at the restaurant the night before. It had been a long time since anyone had done anything to take care of her. "Are you hungry now? Or do you want to eat later?"

"Whenever you want."

"Well, I'm hungry now. If you couldn't tell by the way I dove into this bag right away. You get to choose first, though."

"What are all these?" Callie picked up one of the sandwiches but couldn't see through the wax.

"Caprese sub, and this one's chicken salad, and then this is vegetarian," Tyler indicated, looking at indecipherable red marks on each sandwich. Callie was overwhelmed. She pointed at the chicken salad sandwich, and Tyler took the Caprese. "Let me know if you want to try mine. I've got plenty."

"I'm all right for now, thanks." Tyler saw the small smile on her face and was relieved he'd made the right choices. It had been a long time since he'd been concerned about anyone's needs besides his own. He was rusty.

They ate in silence. Both of them polished off their sandwiches, and Tyler crumpled up the leftover wax paper and threw it back in the bag. He started to peel the top off the pie, then glanced at Callie, who was watching the jazz orchestra.

Feeling his eyes on her, she turned. "What's up?"

"Dessert? Or do you want to wait until later?"

"Um... I could still eat," she smiled sheepishly. Tyler grinned.

"Good answer."

Callie inclined her head toward Tyler and whispered, "Who's that? Does she know you?" Tyler followed the direction of her gaze, and his eyes widened at the approaching figure.

"You're about to meet my ex."

"Tyler!" the woman called. Tyler awkwardly stood and Callie followed his lead.

"Beth. What a surprise."

"It is, isn't it?" Beth shot Callie a look full of feline suspicion. "Who's your friend?"

"Beth, this is Callie. Callie, Beth." Beth didn't bother to shake Callie's hand. Callie was relieved. The woman was intimidating: tall and slender with honeyed hair and amber eyes, long limbs, and chic, loose-fitting clothing. She had the look and the presence of an underfed European model.

"Nice to meet you," Beth replied flatly.

"How've you been, Beth?" There was something almost manic about the way he spoke to her, something insincere and over-cheerful that Callie hadn't seen before.

"Just fine. I heard about your new house. Enjoying it?"

"Beautiful. Just beautiful. Cozy, too. Would you like to join us?" Beth suddenly looked as though she'd tasted something rotten. She caught herself and forced a weak smile.

"No, thank you. I was just on my way to join my friends." She gestured to a huddle of people who looked just as slim and prim as she did. "Nice running into you, though. And nice meeting you, Carrie." Callie frowned at Tyler as Beth walked away.

"What did you think?" he asked when Beth was out of earshot.

"A lovely woman," Callie said dryly. And, before she could stop herself, "I can't believe you invited her to join us."

"I knew she wouldn't. I just wanted to get her goat. She never did have a sense of humor. Has even less of one now, if that's possible." Callie looked irritated. On impulse, he asked her, "How about we hang out in the woods?"

"What?" She looked alarmed.

"I use the term 'woods' loosely. Didn't mean to spook you. I just meant the trees over there." With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the side of the park with flora that she'd noticed on their arrival. "Might be a little more private, and we'll still be able to hear everything. We can eat our dessert there. I get the sense you might be more comfortable without Beth supervising us." Callie rose with him and looked thoughtful as they gathered their things, then followed him toward the trees.

"I'm just having a hard time picturing the two of you together." What Callie wanted to say was that her and Beth looked nothing alike, were completely different women. She wanted to know what Tyler could see in her if Beth had once been his ideal.

"We did, too." He threw their blanket down between a lilac bush and a clump of silver birches, then gently planted his basket and her purse on top of it. "Not at first, obviously," he continued easily as they sat down. "We met when we'd both just graduated college, we were young and confused about what we were doing. And we wanted the same things. I think we thought that would be enough. It worked on a practical level but I'm not sure I could say we were ever really in love. I think we both realized it was wrong and kept going through the motions."

"You couldn't just break up?" The two sat across from each other, Indian style, knees almost touching. Callie was too involved in Tyler's explanations to notice, but Tyler was acutely aware of their proximity. The evening sky had dimmed and the shadows playing across Callie's face brought out her delicate bone structure. He took a moment to admire it before answering her.

"I think we both wanted to. I wanted to. But you get to a point where you've been with someone so long that their world is inextricably linked to yours. My family and friends loved her. I think maybe because she was rich. I know that sounds ugly, but we were so poor." Callie had been awfully quiet, and Tyler recognized then that she had the look of a woman who was carefully analyzing this information, memorizing every word. The look of a woman who saw red flags. He predicted her next question. "I learned the hard way that I could never stay with someone just because it's convenient or because others approve. In my defense, I'd never been in love before. I didn't have anything to compare it to. I cared about her, so I thought it was love."

That seemed to catch her attention more than anything else he'd said. She cocked her head. "You've never been in love?"

"No." He paused. "Have you?"

"I guess maybe not." She looked uncomfortable. "I've been in lust... but not much more." The secret underlying Callie's so-called rules niggled at Tyler again. Up until this point, he'd assumed she'd suffered a recent heartbreak, had reasoned that she could be convinced, had fantasized that she could be seduced. There was something there he didn't quite understand, and these rules made even less sense to him now. He knew that she was holding something back from him, something that would illuminate everything. Even if he couldn't change her mind, he wanted to understand her better. He took her hands in his then, linking their fingers casually as though this touch wasn't new to them, scooted closer so that their knees finally touched.

"This is better, I think," he remarked. "Having Beth around was making us both uneasy." Callie glanced at their hands, made no comment.

"If I were her and saw the two of us sneaking off into the 'woods,' I would think the worst."

"Does that bother you?" He raised an eyebrow and traced an easy shape on her palm. "You don't strike me as the kind of girl who'd be bothered by what people think."

"No, I don't really mind. Just stating the obvious, I guess." His face turned serious then. He looked at her searchingly, then leaned forward, using their clasped hands to pull her in closer. The kiss was sweet, almost chaste, but the promise of something more brushed the edge of her consciousness, quickening the beat of her heart.

"I want you to know that you're sexier to me than Beth ever was. More attractive in pretty much every way." Tyler became even more serious, not to mention incredibly uncomfortable, as he said this. Callie didn't seem ruffled by Beth, and he liked that. But she obviously questioned their pairing, and, for whatever reason, he felt he should explain that the two were nothing alike, that it was part of Callie's appeal. "She was always so cold, so proper. Hitchcock would have lost it for her. And she would have eaten him up."

"You don't think that I'm a little... aloof?" He could feel her tense up as she spoke.

"No. Well, you've put up a wall, but as far as I can tell, it's not part of your nature. I can't explain it yet, and I know you don't want to. I'm not going to press it." He knew she was more vibrant, more sensual, and warmer than she'd led him to believe. "But I am going to force-feed you some of this pumpkin pie."

***

Tyler knew what he was doing was foolish, but he wanted to see Callie, to see where she worked, to surprise her with lunch. It was Tuesday, and he hadn't heard from her since their Sunday in the park. Her office wasn't far from his own so he'd decided to extend his lunch hour and take a little walk her way. He was almost euphoric as he jogged up the stairs to her office's floor.

The office was empty with the exception of a lone receptionist. The woman was on the phone and signaled with her hand for Tyler to wait. A few drab chairs lined the wall opposite the front desk, so he took a seat. There was something unsettling about the office but Tyler figured it probably felt less so when more people were around.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes when a man stepped out of the hallway and, catching sight of Tyler, rudely stared a few moments before speaking. "Can I help you?" He seemed to be sizing Tyler up. The man was muscular, huge in width and height, not much older than Tyler. There was something vaguely attractive about him, but his face was bland and forgettable. His clothes were just as boring: a pale blue collared shirt that was just a little too big, black slacks with a tapered leg, cheap-looking loafers.

"Maybe," Tyler responded uncertainly as he rose from the chair. He felt as though he was in the waiting room for the principal's office. "I was looking for Callie. Is she in?"

"Who's asking?" There was no mistaking the challenge in the man's voice. It was even in his eyes. And, just as disconcerting, his face remained humorless, almost suspicious. Tyler was taken aback and found himself reevaluating his situation.

"I'm Tyler. Tyler Stone. I'm one of her friends." Caution seemed like his best bet. He waited nervously as the man shuffled papers on the front desk. The receptionist had hung up the phone and watched their interaction with interest.

"Tyler Stone? As in Tyler Stone of Heard Street Records?"

"Yes, that's me." Tyler grew even more uncomfortable at being recognized. It didn't happen often, but when it did, he felt naked. The man acted startled, and, if possible, grew more agitated.

"Well," he said as he cleared his throat, "I think she's out to lunch."

"No, that's not true, Mr. Harmon," the receptionist interrupted. She gave the man a puzzled look. "She's around. I'll call her supervisor's extension." The man shot her a fast, deadly look that she missed, but Tyler wasn't so lucky.

Callie emerged from one of the rooms down the hallway, looking cute in a pencil skirt and tobacco-colored silk blouse with suede heels. She looked harried as she approached, then grabbed his arm and walked him farther down the hall, out of earshot of the nosy receptionist and the off-putting man.

"This was a bad idea, Tyler," she whispered as she stopped and turned to face him. "How did you know where I worked?"

"I looked you up," he admitted. "I didn't know I'd cause any trouble. I wanted to surprise you for lunch."

Callie looked guilty. "I'm sorry. It's just that Denver, my boss, is kind of uptight. Doesn't like us having visitors."

"That's your boss? What is this place, a prison?" Callie shrugged. "How does he feel about letting his employees have lunch?"

"I don't know." She seemed uncertain. "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm sorry."