The Architect by C.A. Bell Page B

with a woman over the other side of the desk, then continues, “I just wanted you to go and have some fun, that’s all. And anyway, how did it go tits up?”
    â€œBecause I went in black.”
    â€œWell, I told you about a million times to wear a red dress.”
    â€œYes, I know, Liz, but I thought it might have meant something, so I opted for black. Then when I got there, my date was standing with a woman in a red dress, and she was all over him. He only approached her because you told him that I would be in red.” I pause for thought. “Anyway, I didn’t like the club, and we had much more fun back at mine.” A smile lifts my lips.
    â€œOh, I bet you did.” She reaches out and grabs her mug. Cupping it with both hands and blowing onto her tea, she smiles. “See, it all worked out in the end.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, but it could have ended very badly,” I say, before giving her a blow-by-blow account of what happened in the club and telling her about George. Before I even finish pronouncing his surname, she cuts me off.
    â€œStay away from that guy, Ruth. I’ve heard some awful things about him.”
    Shocked and intrigued, I ask, “What?”
    â€œI wouldn’t like to say, in case it isn’t all true. But promise you will stay away from him.” She nods in hope that I will agree with her plea.
    â€œI only met him last night, and I’m not going back, so I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
    â€œGood. Keep it that way.”
    I nod and agree to stay away.
    She’s quiet for the rest of the day, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve pissed her off by mentioning George.
    Checking my phone as I log off, I’m crushed to see no word from Heath still, but I shake it off and head out to the car park with Liz.
    â€œI’m sorry about sending that text, Ruth. Really.”
    â€œIt’s fine.” I put my hand out and rub her arm. “Honestly.”
    She smiles reluctantly, before reminding me of her warning.
    Telling her that she has nothing to worry about, I say goodbye and head to my car.
    Turning the ignition on, my ears are met by Dinah Krall’s Temptation , and I’m right back there, sitting in that bar with Heath at my side, tapping. My heart flutters, and I long for him again, for his touch, his words, his smell, his smile, or even just to see his car drive by. It’s time to admit it, Ruth, you’re head over heels in love with this man. I grab my phone and compose a text.
    Heath, I’m not sure how to put this but, well...
    I delete and start again.
    Heath, I’m in love with you...
    I delete again. Maybe it’s best coming from a phone call. Texting just seems to lose all meaning sometimes, and he might read me wrong. At least if I was on the phone and he could hear my voice, he would hear how I truly felt. I search for his name and hover my thumb over the telephone symbol until my phone buzzes and I exit the screen to see a new email. Touching on the envelope icon, I open the mail from the unfamiliar address.
    Ruth,
    Where did you vanish to last night? I was disappointed that I didn’t get to have my kinky way with you. I’d like to see you again. When will you next be visiting my club?
    George.
    P.S. If you’re wondering how I got your email address, don’t forget I own the club that you registered at ;)
    Studying the words slowly, my frown becomes deeper and deeper with every word. The cheek of the guy! This is an invasion of privacy, even if he does own the club. Thank God I didn’t give my real number or address .
    I think better of replying and giving him a mouthful; instead I remember Liz’s request and delete the message.
    Putting Mr. Stalker to the back of my mind, I focus on Heath’s number once more. After several minutes I finally pluck up the courage and press the phone icon. The phone rings and I strain my ear in hope that I will hear his