Four Nights in Paris, Part 5

The little tan box sat on the low table before me beside two empty glasses and a bottle of wine. I’d woken up feeling elated. Lani had visited my dreams; we were lying in bed, cuddling and talking. Every now and then she would giggle in her bird-like way. The sound of her voice would coax me to laugh with her.

My associate even noted my lighter mood, making it seem peculiar—though I was certain it wasn’t. The real estate agent seemed heartened as well, though it was difficult to determine if that was because of me or some other factor. He entertained my wanting to stop at a shop on our trek to the second site. I felt the compulsion to make a purchase.

Lani entered—in what appeared to be the same black dress that hugged her every curve—about half an hour after she had shown up the past couple nights; I had started to worry she wasn’t coming. For a moment she searched, almost as though uncertain and perhaps a bit insecure. She folded an arm across her stomach and latched the hand to her other arm, craning her neck as she glanced around the space.

I stood, smiling and gesturing for her to join me. She smiled and dropped her arm, joining me.

“Do you like wine?” I asked, picking up the bottle.

She smiled kindly; “I haven’t had it very often, but I like it well enough.”

Handing her a glass, I smiled at her. That feeling of elation I awoke with was returning and warming my body. Lani had worn through my defenses and I wanted to know her better.

“This is for you,” I said, offering her the box. My heart was racing and I hoped she liked it.

“What is it?” she asked, setting her drink on the table and taking the box in her hands. She examined it as if expecting some sort of trick.

“Open it.”

Slowly, she cracked open the lid. Her eyes darted up at me before returning to the box. “It’s beautiful,” Lani breathed.

I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face as she gingerly lifted the silver necklace from the box. The charm was a double heart, one of which was encrusted in emeralds; ‘Paris’ was inscribed on the back. “I saw it and thought you might like it.”

“You shouldn’t have,” she said unconvincingly, her eyes fixed on the charm.

“I thought you should have something nice to remember Paris by.”

She laid the necklace back in the box and found my eyes. “Thank you. No one’s ever bought me something that nice before.”

I was thrilled by the compliment; she kept glancing between me and the box as if expecting one or both of us to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” She confused me and I doubted for a moment that I’d done the right thing. I knew gifts were a tricky thing with some feeling obligated to return the favor. But I had hoped she wouldn’t be that sort of person.

“Why did you give me this?”

I swallowed hard, debating how honest I should be with her. Then the memory of Danielle’s lack of honesty surfaced. “I like you, Lani. I—I don’t know why, but I like you and I want to get to know you better.”

She nodded, “I like you, too, Matt. You’re a sweet guy.” She giggled a little, adding, “I knew you weren’t the stuffy type.” Lani drank half her wine and crossed the distance between us to kiss my cheek.

My cheeks burned hot and I couldn’t help smiling. Then her hand turned my face up towards hers and she softly kissed my lips.  Again our lips met briefly, and yet the act was charged with so much energy. In a moment she was sitting across my lap, wrapped in my arms, as she pulled my face towards her. Her lips were soft and her hot breath seemed to come progressively faster.

I pulled away from her, suddenly struck by how inappropriate a setting the bar was for this, but also starkly reminded of the days when I used to believe making out meant nothing at all. But it did mean something and I didn’t want to cheapen her kisses by indulging until it led to where feelings really could be hurt quickly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly, her breathing gradually returning to normal. “Didn’t you like it?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I liked it,” I said, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

“Then what was wrong?”

“I just—” How could I explain to her what was going on in my mind? How did one explain having hurt numerous girls over short-lived flings and not valuing them enough? “I respect you and like you too much.”

“Aren’t you supposed to want to kiss people you like?” she asked, her eyes searching my face, her brow furrowed and lips parted.

“Yes, you are. But…I don’t know how to explain this.” My eyes scanned the room, hoping the words would come to my rescue. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you because you’re beautiful. I want you to feel special and cared for, and I can’t do that until I get to know you better.”

Lani’s face softened again and a bemused smile curled her lips. “Matt, neither of us is going to be here forever.” Her fingers ran through my hair.

“We can find ways around that. I mean, there are cell phones and laptops and all sorts of technology anymore. We can spend what time we have together here and then figure the rest out from there,” I reasoned, hoping I wasn’t sounding too cheesy or, worse, desperate.

“So explore my body and get to know that part of me,” she said, gazing up at me from under her eyelashes. Lani started to pull my face towards hers again before I removed her hand from the back of my head and gently sat it in her lap.

“Lani, I want to get to know you before that,” I said slowly. “I want to earn your trust first. I want you to feel safe and like you matter.”

“I’m used to short things, Matt,” she said, diverting her gaze. “It would be just like everyone else. We could pretend if that made you feel better.”

I shook my head. “Lani, you deserve better than that.” When she didn’t say anything, I decided I might as well go for it. “Lani, would do me the honor of joining me for dinner tomorrow night?”

She didn’t say anything for a long while. Then she looked up at me and asked, “What time?”

“Six P.M. sound all right? We could meet here if you wanted.”

She nodded, slowly standing up. “Sure, Matt. That sounds really nice.”

“Great;” I couldn’t stop smiling. I would have to call Mother for suggestions as to where to take her. It would need to be nice but I didn’t want it to be ritzy; somewhere down-to-earth with excellent Parisian cuisine. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six, then,” I said, kissing her hand.

Lani smiled at me, though it was more sad than happy. “Sweet dreams,” she said, sitting in her seat and picking up her glass of wine again.