A Gentleman's Affair (7 page)

Regards, Donovan 

Message sent. I notice the time on my laptop
and realize that I’ve got to get my ass in gear. Meeting number two
is thirty minutes from now, and this one is with the Clark County
Liquor and Gaming licensing board. There are so many things
involved with the opening of a new hotel in Las Vegas.

I change into my black pinstriped casual
business suit, switch off my laptop and go down to the lobby to see
if my pre-scheduled limo is ready to take me to the meeting. During
the drive, I go over the last few messages exchanged with Zoie in
my already-cluttered head. I think about the last few nightmarish
dates and close-call disaster dates that I have been on lately.

When did this all become so hard? Alright,
so maybe I haven’t really been searching for something serious for
awhile, but damn! I have dated my fair share in the past and I
can’t remember it ever being this complicated.

We arrive at the county building, and I am
more than happy to replace these thoughts with more productive
thoughts of business. I have now decided that dating and searching
for “the one” will probably be the death of me.

Another day of meetings down…another day
closer to going home. As excited as I am to have Pisa actually a
reality now, I will always prefer Malibu over Las Vegas. 110 degree
weather is just not my idea of a good time.

I order up a nice room-service-style steak
dinner before undressing and jumping into a steamy hot shower. I
can’t help but wonder what kind of messages I may have waiting for
me in my inbox at the dating site…I did disappear on Zoie this
afternoon.

I step out of the shower, wrapping a thick
white towel around my waist before walking back into the bedroom to
check my laptop, and I am pleased to see only one message from
her—not ten—as I had expected. I take my laptop over to the bed and
relax back against the pillows that are propped up along the
oversized wooden headboard, settling in to read her email.

D,

Don’t worry, I’m pretty patient, I can wait a week,
haha! Okay, what I’m looking for is someone cool, fun, nice, and
cute, and you’re the best looking guy I’ve ever seen, for sure. I’m
pretty easy. I don’t need much to make me happy. What about
you? 

Z.

As I read this, I think that, A: She is
either a big ditz, or B: She is actually that easy to please. Not
likely. I think I’ll choose door number 3: Remain undecided, keep
writing, keep digging to see if there is more to her than just some
“easy to please” girl in search of a “cool cute guy”. She is
obviously smart—I can’t imagine some ditzy girl attending school
for Forensic Science…

Zoie,

Thank you for the compliment. First and foremost,
you are very sweet. I am rather curious though, there has to be
more that you want, aside from a “nice, cute guy” as you put
it.

Regards, Donovan 

Fuck, there’s the door and here I am still
in my towel. “Hold on just one minute,” I yell as I walk over to
the closet and search through my suitcase for my track pants. “I’m
sorry to keep you waiting,” I say apologetically as I open the
door, stepping aside to let room service in with my dinner, which I
honestly forgot about.

And I’m back on the laptop like a crack
whore waiting for her next hit. I cut into my steak while I read
her response to my last question.

D,

Well yeah, of course. Haha.

Z

That’s it? What the fuck sort of response
was that? I don’t think I have the energy for this girl. Do I end
this now or keep pulling teeth to get a proper, sane reply? I push
away my laptop, turn on the news and eat. Christ, I hate
dating.

After a good meal and some thought, I decide
to give Zoie one last chance before making up my mind about
continuing any sort of contact. I switch on my laptop and pull up
the dating site, writing her an email.

Zoie,

I’m attempting to get to know you here, Zoie. Your
last response lacked any sort of information regarding what it is
that you’re really looking for. Would you enlighten me, please, or
am I just wasting my time? 

Regards, Donovan

I settle into bed and wait for her reply.
It’s been an extremely long day and I’m exhausted. I check for a
message and am grateful to find one so quickly, so that I can read
it and get to sleep.

D, 

You’re not wasting your time. I’m just super nervous
for some reason when it comes to you. I’m sorry about not answering
your question before, my brain isn’t working tonight, I’ve been
studying for a test. So, maybe just give me a chance to prove that
I’m totally worth a shot? I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’m
gonna go to bed, I’m tired.

Z

I read her response and am thrilled to see
the girl that I first started talking to has returned. I can
definitely relate to being nervous when it comes to opening up to a
stranger, so I decide to give her a break and just let things
happen. I am, after all, trying to remain open here, and she does
seem sincere about being nervous. I type out a quick reply before
turning in.

Zoie,

I think that we should continue this over the phone.
Too much gets lost in translation through email. If that is alright
with you, send me your cell number and I will call you
tomorrow.

Good night, sweet girl.

Regards, Donovan

I switch off my laptop, sink down under the
covers, and try to get some sleep before the long day ahead
tomorrow. But there is so much going on inside of my head at the
moment between my conversations with Zoie and work, that I find
myself tossing and turning, finding it impossible to drift off.
After what feels like five minutes, I glance over at the alarm
clock on the bedside table to find that it’s actually four in the
morning. Seeing that I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, I get
out of bed, pull on my dark gray sweats and a white t-shirt, and go
downstairs to the hotel’s all-night gym in an attempt to clear my
head.

My week here in Vegas comes to an end, and
it’s finally time to go home. I’m more than pleased with how things
are progressing for the new hotel, but am happy to be going home. I
pack up my things and go downstairs to the hotel lobby to meet the
driver who will be taking me to the airport.

During the flight home, I think about the
emails and the few short phone calls that I’ve had with Zoie over
the past week. We do seem to have a few things in common, and we do
want a lot of the same things. She is definitely beautiful, seems
to be extremely driven and has a very playful side to her…I like
playful.

After getting unpacked and settled, I call
Zoie to make arrangements to meet. She has suggested that we meet
for a drink tonight around seven at a restaurant in Redondo Beach.
Simple and quick, if need be, just in case I need a fast escape. I
did find it odd that she chose a restaurant, not an actual bar. But
I try not to over-think it and remain positive. It is just a drink
after all.

I dress in jeans and a black and gray
graphic t-shirt…casual, but still stylish enough, I decide. Summer
is coming to an end, and it’s cooler at night now, but the
restaurant is casual, so I decide to leave the dress shirt at home
tonight.

I pull up to the restaurant, take a deep
breath, get out of my Hummer and walk inside. She said that she
would meet me near the hostess station promptly at seven, but I
must have beat her, because here I stand—alone. I take a seat on
one of the benches near the front door and wait.

And wait…

And wait…

Twenty minutes pass, and I am just about to
leave, when literally out of nowhere—because it wasn’t from the
front door of the restaurant—appears this young girl. But it wasn’t
Zoie. This girl must be all of nineteen. She touches my shoulder
and softly squeaks out my name.

“Donovan?” She smiles, but I quickly sense
that something is wrong here.

“Yes, I am Donovan. Do I know you?” Is this
her little sister, sent here to let me down easy? Christ, what the
fuck is going on?

“Yes…I mean, no.” She shakes her head then
stares down at the floor.

“Yes? No? Would you please tell me what is
going on here?” Alright, now I am getting irritated. Am I being
punked?

“Donovan, it’s me…Zoie. But before you get
mad, let me explain.” She pleads, her eyes filled with sincerity
and worry.

Zoie? Aww, fuck. Come on! This is not
happening. “You’re Zoie? Christ, not here.” I take her by the arm
and lead her outside to the parking lot. “Explain.” I fold my arms
across my chest, standing before her trying my best to remain calm.
I won’t lie, I am fucking pissed. Who is this girl and how dare she
lie to me!

“I know, not what you expected right? Just
listen to me, please. I saw your profile, and it said that you were
looking for girls from 25-30 and, well…as you can see, I’m not. I
wanted you to get to know me, then decide. We’re so perfect for
each other—age doesn’t matter, right?” She stares into my eyes
searching for the answer she wants to hear, but fuck if she will be
getting it.

“So, none of it was true? You just made all
of that shit up to what, impress me? This conversation is over!”
Disappointed and furious, I can only shake my head, remind myself
that I am a gentleman and walk away at this point. “Take care,
Zoie.”

I start walking to my Hummer as she runs up
from behind, grabbing my arm. “Donovan please, I didn’t really make
it up. Well, I did, but other than going to school for Forensics,
the rest was all me. Alright…and the picture. Please, just give me
a chance.”

Fuck, and here come the water works. I am
not doing this. I turn to her and—as polite as I can fucking be
right now—say, “You deliberately deceived me. What kind of person
does this to another person?” Shaking my head, I start to walk
away, trying with everything that I have in me to remain calm. I
quickly slide the key into the door of my Hummer. Pausing, I turn
to look at her one last time, still in disbelief. “Oh, and Zoie, if
that is even your real name…go to hell!” And with that, I open the
door and get in, screeching out of the parking lot leaving yet
another nightmare of a date behind me.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m stuck in a bad
dream, and I’m never going to wake up. I am a smart, successful,
reasonable man, so why do I keep finding these hot messes? Am I
being punished for my playboy days that were filled with blondes,
threesomes, debauchery and Jack Daniels? Fuck if I know, but I
suppose it’s back to the drawing board for this man. I’m not ready
to give up. One thing I do know: I am not ready to join that
monastery just yet…

Chapter Six

~Frustration~

I’m at the end of my rope here. I wish that
this string of shitty dates would just end already. Why is it so
hard to find a decent girl? I think that it’s time for yet another
dating hiatus. I have the redecorating of La Fuga, the construction
of Pisa, and plenty of other work to occupy my time right now, so
fuck it. Break time.

I arrive back at La Fuga and quickly make my
way downstairs to my nightclub, The Underground. To say that I’m in
desperate need of a drink…or three, is an understatement. The club
is crowded and the music is loud. Perfect. Just what I need.

I take a seat at the bar, and Jared, my good
friend and head bartender, sets my usual Jack and Coke in front of
me. I drink it down fast, set the glass on the bar, and ask for
another. 

“Anything wrong, boss? How was the big
date?” he asks with genuine concern as he makes a second drink.

“Where do I even start, Jared?” And as I
shake my head, I can only laugh at how ridiculous the whole
situation was with Zoie. I continue on, “You don’t want to know,
trust me. It wasn’t good. Just keep the drinks coming, alright?” I
decide to keep this last encounter from him. Even though he is one
of my closest friends, I know that he’ll find this hilarious and
will definitely be giving me shit about it for months to
come. 

“You got it, buddy.” As he wipes down the
bar, he leans in, speaking in a low voice then nods his head in the
direction of the other end of the bar. “Look who’s here tonight,
boss.” I glance over and see my ex-girlfriend and former assistant,
Danielle, who I haven’t seen for about two years, sitting there.
She is smiling over at us, knowing full well that we’re talking
about her.

Christ, she looks incredibly sexy. She
always did. Her hair is lighter now, sun-streaked, I would imagine,
and much longer. Her skin-tight crisp white dress looks fantastic
against her toned, long bronzed legs.

Too bad she was a cheating whore when we
were together. That’s almost a year of my life that I’ll never get
back…what a waste.

“Everyone knows that she isn’t to be let
into the club, correct?” I look away from the cheating whore and
take a drink, turning my attention back to Jared. “Who is working
the door tonight?”

“Uh, that would be Reggie.” Jared quickly
pours me another drink while trying to reason with me over her
being here, but more trying to save Reggie’s ass. “It’s been two
years, and I think Reggie figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her in.
Besides, you were supposed to be on a date.”

“That is hardly the point, Jared. She was
banned long ago. I don’t want her in here whoring up my customers.”
Irritated, I get up from the bar stool and start walking towards
the door.

“Reggie, I need to have a word with you.” I
motion for him to join me away from the entrance of the club, away
from the earshot of entering customers. “Why the fuck did you let
Danielle in?” He glances quickly in her direction as she sits at
the bar.

“Aww, boss, c’mon. It’s been a long time
since you two were together. I really didn’t think you’d care.” He
steps back near the door, unhooking the velvet rope that sits at
the entrance to allow in one of my members. “Good evening, Mr.
Cassidy.” Reggie greets him with a nod as he passes by, and making
his way towards me, he extends his hand in my direction.