Richard and Lainey - Her Perspective

There's always two sides to a story.

**. **. ***

Lainey's fingers hover over her phone keyboard. Should she do this? She's already texted him twice before with no response. Well, third time's a charm, her mother would say. She quickly taps out a message and sends it before she can change her mind.

Hi, Richard! It's Lainey (again)! Just wanted to say 'hi' and ask if you've ever been to that coffee shop on Palmer? Wanna meet?

Lainey bites her lip as she waits for a response, hoping he won't block her or worse, think her a pest. It isn't just the amazing sex that makes her want to keep their connection, although that's a big part of it. He was just...charming, but not in a fake way, not like other guys who only wanted to get into her pants. Richard seemed genuinely interested in her; it had made her feel good. And then back at her place--wow. The way he'd touched her...she wants that again.

Then, his reply pops up:

Hi, Lainey-I have been to that coffee shop a few times. When would you like to meet? I can take my lunch anytime, just let me know.

Cheers! R

Butterflies erupt in her belly as she texts back, licking her dry lips. Miranda had been right: Lainey didn't have to wait around for a man to make the next move. She hurries to the coffee shop and snags a table after ordering a chicken wrap and water. But she can't eat, nervousness robbing her appetite. What if this is a mistake? The potential for embarrassment is huge. Then she sees him come through the door in a dark suit, tie a bit askew, as if he'd tied it by feel rather than in the mirror.

He looks around as he gets in line at the counter, sees her waving and smiles.

"Hi," he says, sitting down with his food. Lainey smiles, sits up a little straighter. She taps her red fingernails on her glass, shifts in the chair.

"Hi, Richard. How's your day been?" She watches him unwrap the plastic utensils and place the napkin in his lap. A woman at the next table is staring at him, and when she meets Lainey's eyes, quickly averts her gaze back to her coffee. Lainey smirks, conscious that she's with the best looking man in the coffee shop. She wonders what kind of car he drives, wonders what his home looks like. He's a hotshot right now, one of the highest sellers in greater Las Vegas.

"Better now," he tells her with a grin, and hope flares in heart. Maybe he's one of the good ones. Miranda would tell her not to get too excited so soon, that all men are on their good behavior at first, especially when they want to get in your pants. Well, he's already been there, so if he wants to continue to see her, then good.

"I hope I wasn't too annoying, texting so much," she says, making her tone light, as if it doesn't matter. "I don't usually do that but Miranda told me I should."

"She did, huh?" Richard takes a bite of his sandwich, his eyes flickering over her face.

"Yep. She said that you were probably busy and that's why you hadn't called me yet." She holds her breath, wondering what he will say. Will he blow her off?

"Well," he says after a moment, wiping his mouth. "Miranda's a smart woman. Persistence is a trait I admire."

"Oh, good. I didn't want to be a pest," Lainey says, a smile stretching across her mouth.

"Nah, no worries." There's a little bit of razor burn on his neck, his eyelashes are long and his eyebrows prominently frame those amazing blue eyes. His black hair is short, a little spiky on top--super cute.

They fall into conversation then, chatting about the real estate market, horrible clients, and then Lainey takes a deep breath and just goes for it.

"So...are you doing anything tonight?" She bites her lip, nervous again. What if he says no? Or worse, pretends he doesn't understand what she's asking? Will she have to spell it out?

"No. What did you have in mind?" A sly grin flits across his handsome face.

"I think you know," she says coyly, giggling when his grin widens. "I guess the question is where, yes? Where do you live?"

"I'd love to get to know you better," he says, gathering up their trash. "We can grab something to eat first. Do you like sushi? There's this place I know with great drinks and the best sushi I've ever had. "

Thrilled, Lainey can only nod. She never dreamed he'd want to actually take her on a date. He is one of the good ones. She can't wait to tell Miranda.

And so it is settled. He holds the door for her as they leave the shop, kisses her cheek as they go their separate ways. Lainey can't help standing on the sidewalk to watch him walk away, reliving every moment they just had. As she finally gets her feet moving, she texts Miranda.

You were right! I just had lunch with him and I'm seeing him tonight! He wants to get to know me better!

Later, drowsing beside him in her bed, her head on his chest, Lainey fights the sleep that presses against her body, because she doesn't want to miss one moment with Richard. He's a considerate lover--more concerned with her pleasure than his own, making sure she enjoys herself, asking if she likes this, kissing her there, touching her until she's trembling. Then and only then does he consummate their time together. Their first time had been explosive--but this ...this was slow and languorous and lovely. She sighs.

"I hope that wasn't a sad sigh," Richard murmurs in her ear, pulling her closer. He kisses her and they begin again, and afterward she drifts off, and when she awakens to her alarm in the morning, he's gone.

*************************

"When am I going to meet this mystery man?"

"Come on, Mom," Lainey sighs, considers 'accidentally' hanging up, then sighs again. "We haven't been dating very long," she tells her, glancing at her computer. Her mom always calls when Lainey's at work, never seems to care she could be interrupting.

"You've been seeing him for at least a month," Gail says reasonably. "That's a long time these days."

Lainey rolls her eyes. She can just imagine the ensuing conversation if she ever brought Richard to her mom's house. Meeting a parent is a big step--and she doesn't think they are at that point yet. She makes a vague promise and hangs up, finishes up for the day and goes home to get ready for her date with Richard.

They've been seeing each other several times a week, for drinks, for dinner, just to talk. Sex too, she admits as she brushes her hair. Tonight they are going to a play, which will be a first for her. She's not even sure what to wear. She doesn't want Richard to think she's ignorant, or cheap, and she's afraid that's how she comes across.

When Richard picks her up in his slow-slung sports car, she's suitably impressed. The leather seats are comfortable, the interior spotless.

"Hello, beautiful," he greets, sliding his fingers into her hair when he kisses her. "We're meeting Chris and his date at the venue."

"Oh, okay." Lainey buckles her seatbelt, smoothes her black skirt as he pulls out into traffic.

"You'll like him. We've been friends for a long time--we grew up together."

"Those are the best kinds of friends," she says, and he nods. "Miranda and I haven't been friends quite that long, but a while."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Oh, at some crazy party about ten years ago. One of my heels broke and my date was a jerk about it and Miranda gave me a ride home." She smiles and so does he.

"And the rest is history," he jokes.

When they reach the playhouse, Richard opens the car door for her and smokes a cigarette as they walk across the parking lot. It's a warm night, and her hand sweats inside his, but he doesn't seem to notice. This isn't her kind of place, she realizes as they join the well-dressed folks queueing at the door. Her skirt is too short, maybe, but then Richard, as if sensing her nervousness, slips his arm around her waist and whispers in her ear. "You look hot as fuck, Lainey."

Inside they find Chris, who is taller than Richard, with short brown hair, friendly blue eyes and an infectious smile. He is handsome, not in the same way as Richard, but he looks like a nice guy. His eyes flicker over her before he smiles in welcome and shakes her hand. "Hey, Lainey. This is Veronica." Veronica, a sultry-looking woman with a voluptuous figure merely nods in her direction, too busy scanning the crown to properly greet her. She has dark hair that frames her round face and dark eyes rimmed with dark liner. Her dress is sexy but understated, a black sheath that hugs her body.

Lainey stands beside Richard while he and Chris chat, while Veronica says nothing, ignores her and it's fine, she doesn't care. Women don't usually like her, but men always do. At least for a time. She hopes Richard is different, the same hope she always has when she begins dating a man, that he will see beyond her looks, beyond her body and love who she is. Her last lover's face rises in her mind along with the accusing voice that reminds her she'd thought Eric was one of the 'good ones' at first and maybe Richard's just like him, he's only on his best behavior--Lainey squelches that train of thought as they head inside the auditorium to find their seats.

Lainey and Veronica sit beside each other, which is awkward at first. The other woman's perfume smells expensive and a little too strong, and she still doesn't address Lainey directly, instead speaking to Chris in her throaty voice.

"This play has good reviews," Richard says, bringing her attention back to him. "But even if it sucks, I'm glad to be here with you." He takes her hand, twining his fingers through hers, and brings it up to his mouth and kisses it, and then the lights dim and the play begins. Enthralled, Lainey leans forward, totally engrossed in the story, the actors, the music.

Afterward, Chris suggests they go out for drinks, but Richard demurs and brings her to his condo for the first time.

When he opens the door, he steps aside so she can enter first. The kitchen is modern, with granite counters and stainless steel appliances. A blue ceramic bowl rests on the counter closest to the door and he places his keys and wallet in it. Her heels click on the ceramic tiles.

"If I don't put my stuff in here, I'll spend too much time looking for my shit in the morning," he tells her, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of tonic water.

"Wow, this is a great kitchen. Do you like to cook?" Lainey leans on the island while he makes their drinks, the granite cool on her skin. The condo is painted in trendy shades of gray and white.

"Yes," he says, squeezing a lime into each highball glass. "I grew up eating shit so when I was on my own I took some cooking classes. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, why? Are you going to cook for me?" She accepts the glass from him, their fingers brushing. He nods, staring at her mouth, his eyes dark.

"Here in a little," he says, pulling her close. "But first, let me show you the rest of my place, starting with the bedroom..."

"Now I'm really hungry, Richard," Lainey says a short time later, her body relaxed and satisfied. The bedroom is just as amazing as the rest, with a king-size bed, expensive linens and a large window.

"Too bad, I'm sleepy." He rolls over with his back to her and pretend-snores, and she tickles him, digging her fingers into his side. He yelps, turns back over and presses her into the mattress beneath him, runs his hand up her hip. "You shouldn't have done that," he tells her with a smile. Then he tickles her until they are both laughing breathlessly.

"All right, all right," she shrieks. "I give up!" He releases her at last and she lies gasping,trying to catch her breath.

"Good." Richard gives her one last kiss and then slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of black pajama pants and a T-shirt from a drawer. "Now I will make dinner. Take a shower if you want." Flashing her a warm smile, he struts out of the bedroom to her giggles.

Lainey sits up amid the rumpled sheets and slides out of the king-size bed. The plush carpet pillows her feet as she goes into the adjoining bathroom. It's as gorgeous as the rest of the condo, with a long, skinny window above that lets in natural light and a walk-in shower with stone tiles. The sink is one of those modern ones, a glass bowl atop a cabinet, and there's a toothbrush in a holder on a shelf above it. She opens a few cabinets until she finds a towel and washcloth, and then turns on the shower faucet.

She stays in there too long, enjoying the hot spray and expensive body wash and shampoo, staying in until her fingers resemble prunes. After drying off with the plush blue towel, Lainey goes back out into the bedroom, where she sees that Richard has made the bed and also laid out a pair of drawstring pajama pants and a T-shirt for her. Her heart swelling with happiness, Lainey quickly pulls on the clothes and hangs up her towel before exiting the bedroom.

The floor is hardwood, shiny in the glow from the candles burning on the coffee table. A black leather sectional faces a fireplace with an insert, and off to the side are French doors leading out to a balcony with a small table and lounge chairs.

The high table is set with two plates, silverware resting on cloth napkins, and wine glasses.

"Whatever you're making smells super delicious, Richard," Lainey says, padding barefoot into the kitchen. Richard turns from the stove where he is stirring something with a wooden spoon.

"Nothing too fancy," he says. "Just some pork medallions and green beans. Wine."

Lainey slides her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek on his back. "Thank you for cooking for me."

"Don't thank me until you've tasted it," he says modestly, but she already knows it's going to taste better than anything she's ever had, and she's right.

"Richard, this is amazing," Lainey says, as they eat the meal. The pork is tender and flavorful, and the green beans taste way better than she expected. She can't stop gushing about the food, which seems to please Richard.

"What did you mean when you said you grew up eating shit?" Lainey asks as they linger at the table with their wine. "You haven't really told me anything about yourself before we met. I'm just curious," she amends, noting his brief grimace.

"Not much to tell," he says, pouring more wine. "I grew up poor--the only thing in the fridge most of the time was ketchup. I ate a lot of shit from the gas station until I made my own money."

"What did you do?" She imagines him at a grocery store, or maybe at the grill in Mcdonald's, something like that, the typical high school job.

"I worked at a local greenhouse, doing landscaping and shit, went full time for a while once I graduated."

"Oh. I wouldn't have imagined that. Sounds like hard work." She reassesses her impression of him. Richard with dirty hands is not what she expected.

He smiles at her surprise. "I don't mind getting my hands dirty. I saved my money and left Kingman with Chris. Then we fucked around for a while."

"Do you ever go back to visit?"

Richard shakes his head. "No reason to. My mom died when I was two and my dad passed a few years ago." He stands and begins gathering the plates. She can't read his face; is he upset?

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Richard."

"Don't be; I never knew my mother and Jack was a fucking asshole. No loss there." He takes their dishes into the kitchen, and she feels bad for bringing it up. She stays at the table while he loads the dishwasher, letting the heaviness of the conversation dissipate.

When he comes back in she's afraid he'll be in a bad mood, but beyond being a little subdued, the rest of the evening is pleasant. He suggests watching something and she snuggles next to him on the couch.

****************

Miranda texts her out if the blue one Saturday evening:

Hey, Chris is coming over but I don't know him that well--would you like to come over? Maybe bring Richard?

"Sure," Richard agrees when she shows him the text. "Let's stop at the liquor store on the way." She goes into the bathroom to get ready, hears him talking on his phone, figures it's Chris.

When they get to Miranda's home, Chris answers the door, two spots of color in his cheeks. He looks...not happy. Leaving Richard with him, Lainey goes into the kitchen with the grocery bags and sets them on the counter, the greeting dying on her lips.

"Oh, my God, Miranda--what's wrong?" Her friend is leaning against one of the granite counters, her eyes full of tears. Lainey's never seen her so upset before. She goes over and envelops her friend in a hug.

"Chris--he just grabbed me and kissed me, like it was his right. He frightened me."

"Do you want me to have Richard make him leave?" Lainey squeezes her tight. Miranda pulls away, shaking her head.

"No, they're friends; he wouldn't do it. I'll be fine." She takes a deep breath and lets it out, forces a smile as Richard and Chris crowd into the kitchen.

"All right, ladies!" Richard grabs Lainey and kisses her, slides her hand down to her butt and laughs when she squeals and pulls away. "Are you ready for the best margarita you've ever had?"

Miranda grabs the blender from a cabinet and puts it on the counter before going over to Chris. Lainey leans on the counter and watches Richard make the drinks.

"Be careful, ladies," he warns, pouring in the booze. "Clothing has been known to fall off after a few of these."

Lainey giggles, her belly swirling. He is so sexy!

Miranda doesn't think so, but her friend rarely liked Lainey's boyfriends, so nothing new there. There's something different about him, she decides, thinking about the way he really seems interested in her thoughts, the tender way he holds her at night. And let's not forget his amazing skills between the sheets. She smiles at the thought, wondering how long it will last between them.

Miranda seems to have made up with Chris, and the four of them traipse into the living room where Richard pulls Lainey down onto his lap in an overstuffed chair while the other couple takes the large sofa.

With the lights dim and a movie on low, Richard begins kissing her, his lips soft and knowing, tongue tracing her lips before plunging into her mouth.

He refills her glass twice and when she takes a sip, it spills coldness down her front.

"Oh, shit," she says, dismayed. "Lemme get something to clean that up."

"Allow me," Richard says, and she feels him unfasten her bra and move aside her top, feels his mouth on her breasts, his hand on her bare leg. The alcohol has gone straight to her head and she forgets they aren't alone, forgets everything but his tongue between her legs.

*********************

She awakens sometime later beneath an ugly purple afghan, her head pounding, mouth dry. Miranda's cleaning off the coffee table, which is a mess of spills and empty glasses. The cheese plate is full of curled and dried up cheese slices.

"Oh, my god," Lainey groans, sitting up. She realizes her bra is on the floor and snatches it up, smiling ruefully at her friend. "I feel like I should apologize for the show last night," she says, embarrassed. Richard had whispered not to worry, no one would see anything because it was so dark, but she wasn't sure he was right until MIranda shrugs.

"It was too dark to see anything and then we went upstairs," she says, her cheeks a little pink.

"Thank God. I told him to stop, but then, well." She laughs in embarrassment. "Obviously I was drunk, but that man..." She smiles, feeling happy. "He was sure right about the margaritas."

Lainey puts on her bra, looks around for her shoes. She kind of wishes Richard had taken her home, but supposes it doesn't matter.

"At least he covered you up," Miranda says, her voice cool. "That's one point in his favor, at least."

"Why don't you like him?"

"Well," Miranda says slowly, sitting back down on the couch. Her brow furrows. "He's a rude jerk."