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‘I want you to stay,’ she said. ‘Callie, come on . . . .’ ‘I’m not trying to do anything to affect your decision.’ She held up her hands and shook her head as she came to sit next to me. ‘I just . . . you’re the best guy I’ve met in a long time. I want you to stay with me.’ ‘Thank you.’ I brushed her hair back and let the soft strands drift through my fingers. ‘Ithaca’s always going to be a part of me, that’s all. Sometimes it’s hard to let go.’ ‘I understand.’ She paused and then that sexy smile appeared. ‘Maybe I could make my case for you staying in California.’ I leaned back on the couch and put my arms out at my sides as though I was surrendering. ‘I’m open to hearing your presentation.’ Callie laughed at that and relaxed. We drank some wine and had a late dinner. I had lots of opportunities to touch her, I’m pretty sure she provided them, although I wanted to think I was being slick and teasing her. She touched me, too, and I didn’t object. ‘Come on, baby. Let’s go back to my. No sex was a worry. What was happening? Had she lost her sex appeal overnight or had half the city’s eligible males turned gay? ‘Enjoy,’ said the surly waitress, dropping the coffee in front of Mandy. Liquid sloshed into the saucer. ‘I’ll get your another coffee.’ ‘Don’t bother,’ Mandy sighed. ‘I don’t drink coffee here,’ said the waitress with a knowing smile. What the hell did that mean? Mandy took a sip and almost spat it out. It tasted like shit. Er, whatever. Certainly not like top coffee. Ownership of the coffee shop had been taken over by foreigners. She left the liquid masquerading for coffee and walked out, still thirsty. The twenty-four-year-old with an MA in Art History (19th Century) eyed the bar across the street, knowing her parents didn’t like her frequenting bars… and probably not brothels although that had never been discussed. It scared her witless just thinking about entering one to try the male service or perhaps a female whore if they had any under forty. God.
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