Page 18 of Beautiful Deceit
I open the smaller of my two boxes, "They have the best crab rangoon." I moan around my first bite. Beau is watching me when I look up. After I'm done chewing, I offer him some. He grunts and reaches forward to grab one, dipping it into my sauce.
He pops the whole thing in his mouth and chews, affirming my opinion with a, "Um---good." He starts digging into his own boxes.
"I haven’t eaten there before, so I got a couple things."
I can see Egg Foo Young and Beef and Broccoli. Pretty safe choices for a first trip but I don't know what the third dish is.
"What's that?" I use my fork to point at the mess in the box.
"Bow Low Gai Kow," he says sounding strangely knowledgeable.
"That's a mouthful. You had it before?"
He looks up, his green eyes squinting at the corners as he pulls a genuine smile, "No. I just like the way it sounded. I'm all about trying new things lately." He takes a forkful of the mentioned dish, taking a bite. He chews, then talks around a mouthful, “It’s good. Rewarding.” I laugh at his chipmunk cheeks.
"Sounds fun. Maybe I should do that. What else have you tried new lately? Give me a few ideas."
"Well," he looks thoughtful. "Besides, Bow Low Gai Kow---" He smirks, "I went to this crazy book club filled with only women, and got hit on by two women old enough to be in my grandma’s knitting circle. He whispers the last part, then grins, “I've since then directed two single friends to try it." He chuckles and winks. "I quit my job, and moved to New York. I think that's about it." There is a subtle shift in his expression, that he is quick to hide, and I am not quick enough to read.
I try and act casual about what he's just divulged, "Yup, lots of new stuff there." I agree.
I don't think asking a bunch of questions about him quitting his job is a good change of topic, so I move to the book club. "When your name popped up on the page asking about the book club, I figured you were a girl on her boyfriend’s page. I never imagined a man would have read the book, let alone show up for a public discussion of it. But you walk up and get sandwiched between Mickey and Cookie." I shake my head in good humor, "I can’t believe you stayed."
Beau tips his head back and laughs, "You know, I probably wouldn't have read it on my own. It was something I did for work, but I did enjoy it." He grins, "I didn't think it would be sexy, certainly not as it was described to me."
I gulp and nod, my voice sounding strained when I say, "Yes it can be." I squirm on the pillow. When I look up I see him watching me. He’s propped an elbow on the table and has his head resting in his hand.
"Do you read those kinds of books often, Sammy?" The way he asks me makes the moment feel intimate rather than overtly sexual.
"Uh---I suppose. I read romance and I consider theFifty Shadesseries a romance." I answer and shove a bite into my mouth to have a reason to not talk any further.
"Why do you say it like that? That you consider it romance." He asks seeming curious. "Some people think it's more erotica." His eyes are so intense, I think maybe he should put the hat back on.
"You don't?"
I shrug, mainly to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts, "Not really, I think the story is more important than the sex in that book.” I twirl my fork around in my food, and shake my head, “Sure there's a lot of sex, but it's not just sex---.” I struggle to find the words, and when I do, I choose the absolute worst, “I mean most erotica is just about the fucking." I can’t believe I just said that. I look up, wide-eyed with embarrassment.
Beau is staring at my mouth. He licks his lips, and I find myself mirroring the action as my eyes follow the movement of his tongue. I turn, grabbing one of the waters and gulp nearly the whole thing down. Yep, I just said that out loud. I try to play it off, "Yeah so no filter." I giggle.
That seems to break the tension.
I go for a change of subject.
"I've been meaning to ask, is that your dog in your profile picture? He's beautiful, and I've always wanted a Great Dane." Beau's face falls, before he speaks. I know I'm not going to like what I hear.
"She," he says. "Ella was beautiful." He continues sadly. The tone of our conversations shifts.
"What happened?" I find myself asking.
Beau blows out a long breath, "It's kinda a fucked-up story." His eyes look into mine earnestly, like he wants to tell me, but he also looks a little unsure. I nod trying to encourage him, "She died right before I quit working."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "How did it happen?" I don’t want to push him too much, but I want to let him know I am here to listen.
“Don’t apologize for something someone else did,” his expression hardens. "They wanted to hurt me, so they did it by hurting her." Holy shit, that's insane. Great Danes are known as gentle giants. How anyone could hurt an animal is beyond me.
"My God Beau, I---,” I pause not certain how to respond. “The first thing I thought when I saw that picture was somebody really loves this dog." I reach out laying my hand on his forearm. “I've never had a dog, but always wanted one. I couldn't have one before my mom died, because she was so allergic.” I continue talking as he takes a breather, “When I moved to New York, it just seemed impractical and kind of cruel to have a dog without a yard. Rita said all kinds of dogs live in the city as perfectly happy dogs, but I just haven't been convinced."
My hand remains on his arm. I hear the door chime and stand to look over the railing. A dark haired young woman wonders in, looking around. I can tell she's never been here by the way she's gaping. I keep my back to Beau while he is collecting himself.
