Thanks for reading my Valentine's Day 2023 entry! Enjoy, and please don't forget to vote!
Entrapment
Ben watched her enter the restaurant, the host making the most of his short time with her by walking slowly and taking the long route to her table, proudly showing the room the gorgeous thing that had wandered into their establishment. The golden light of the restaurant made her skin glow softly, the candles on the tables giving a dark, liquid sparkle to her eyes as she shyly laughed at his flirting.
She glanced uncertainly over her shoulder as the host helped her with her chair. Ben felt a twinge of annoyance. This lovely creature wasn't accustomed to being helped or attended to properly. His father had always told him that the most important thing a man could do was to take good care of the women in his life... because if you didn't, they would start taking care of themselves, and nothing good comes from that.
Ben had nothing against women being independent, though. Far from it. The best women he had ever known were strong, smart and brave enough to put worthless men to shame. Those women knew their worth. This lovely girl, dressed to the nines and sitting alone at the table across the room didn't know her worth. Some idiot had arranged to meet her here at Harlequin's on Valentine's Day, instead of picking her up and using every moment possible to convince her of his desire to see her pleased in his care. No one went to her door with flowers, gave her his arm as he walked her to his freshly-cleaned car, opened the door for her, and gently held her hand as she negotiated her way into the carseat with those delicate, strappy heels she wore. No one melted inside at her soft grateful glances with each of these simple courtesies.
No. Some moron just gave her a name of a fashionable hotel restaurant and a time, then left her to figure out reservations and google the address for Uber, or worse he left her to drive into the city on her own, park in a dim garage, and walk through God knows what on the street, getting rude offers from the locals. Then, she walked into the restaurant alone, feeling hunted, stressed and self-conscious, and unsure of what to feel about a man that simply wants the privilege of helping her with her chair. The moron with the privilege of looking into this girl's eyes all night missed the chance to hold her chair, to catch that grateful blush of hers, and casually brush his hand over her shoulders wrapped in that silky dress that she wore just for him on Valentine's Day. What a waste. Some fool could have been in love, by now.
Not that he was an expert in love, Ben thought ruefully, rolling the ice in his glass through the amber liquid. Times had changed since his father's day. When he was younger, Ben's work brought him in contact with a number of single women, but so many of them had suspicion plainly written across their faces, caution in their voices. Women raised on stories of people who let men into their houses and they ended up raped or dead. He did his best to put them at ease about being alone with his big-shouldered frame and forgettable face, tried to show them his good nature in a way that didn't push too hard. Most of them still filmed him and demanded verification of his identity from the home office before they allowed him inside. He understood why they did it, didn't hold a grudge. It's what happens when women were left to take care of themselves. Men were left feeling like criminals, and the women were stressed or scared. None of it lent itself toward romance.
Now, instead of meeting people in a natural way, everyone was stuck with computers that made us boil down our souls into profiles that turned people into products... a list of qualities and desires that looked like unappetizing menus. Then, if you were lucky, you went on an unending string of first dates that wore you out and left you emptied of cash and faith in humanity. Date after date where you meet up with someone once and feel nothing but vague disappointment... because love isn't an equation to be solved. It was a feeling. Love was a seed planted in experiences that we don't allow ourselves anymore... out of caution, out of bad stories, out of any number of things that have nothing to do with two people having a common love of museums, or hiking the Appalachian trail or any of those other check-boxes they use to make you quantify yourself. You don't need all your hobbies to match, for God's sake. If you love someone, you'll love going to the grocery store with them, and you'll do that a lot more than you'll do that other stuff. The right person turned even the most menial tasks into an experience.
From the bar, Ben's eyes drifted over toward the woman again, casually taking her in before moving on to the loved-up couples filling the room. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable by staring, but if she were his, he would be hard-pressed to take his eyes off her. Shimmering, soft-looking hair that caught the light as she turned her head hopefully toward the entrance as another couple walked in. She chewed her plump lower lip, as her large eyes wandered around the room. Ben glanced down at his phone to see the time. What could possibly be keeping the guy? The jerk had kept her waiting alone in a room full of romance. Had he even thought about how that would make her feel? Quietly seething, Ben turned back toward the bar, telling himself to mind his own business.
"Tits at table five wants a negroni..." a waiter said to the bartender, nodding to where she sat.
"Hey... come on, man," Ben said, frowning at the server. "Don't do that..." The server mumbled an apology, then rolled his eyes at the bartender when he thought Ben couldn't see.
A negroni... smooth and sweet, Ben thought, watching the bartender mix the gin, sweet vermouth and Campari that would soon be graced by the touch of her lips. With an expert twist, the bartender exacted a perfect corkscrew orange peel garnish that would tickle her nose with a hint of citrus as she sipped the charming cocktail. If he were at her side, he'd order a Hanky Panky just to see her giggle at the name... maybe tease her into trying it and see if she liked it. Ben sighed and looked over at her again, his mind filling with food he wanted to order and have her steal off his plate, just to see what kind of tastes made those dimples on her cheeks come out. God, she was adorable.
Her eyes flickered and she sat up, quickly digging into her handbag and fishing out her phone. The phone screen lit, just long enough to let him see her face fall slightly. Son of a bitch. The guy hadn't even called her. Just a text. Why? Why do such amazing women give themselves to complete losers?
Nearing his breaking point, Ben signaled the bartender for his check, paid, and quickly left the room. He didn't know what to do with himself, but he just couldn't sit there watching anymore. He stalked out and paced around the hotel lobby until he found himself in the elevator bay and jabbed the up button with his thumb, figuring he would go change and work out his frustration in the fitness center. An elevator opened its doors with a "ding" and Ben walked in at the same time a pair of heels began to click across the elevator bay tiles. "Oh! Could you hold it please?" a woman's breathy voice called out.
Ben had already put his arm out to stop the closing doors until he felt them open again, revealing the shimmering hair, silky dress, large eyes and cheeky smile of the angel that had been sitting across the restaurant. "Thank you," she smiled, brushing his arm as she entered the elevator. A familiar floral scent followed her, drifting into his mind and evoking vague memories of innocence and wonder. Ben frowned at the floor, trying to recall the name of the flower as he stepped back to give her room. She stayed where she was, rather than moving to the opposite side of the lift, giving him only a limited space to retreat. "Rough night?" she asked, tilting her head up slightly, reading his frowning face. "You got out of there in a hurry..." she mused.
"I don't know. It all... just got a little hard to watch," he said, quietly clearing his throat.
"You're not a fan of romance?" she asked, a faint smile curving her lips.
