“Thank you, Simone, for bringing her the coat I requested,” Timothy said, glancing at the end of the couch, where the coat lay draped over the couch back, looking quite at home. “And I would guess that your skills with hair and make-up were provided?”
Simone nodded. “That was my pleasure. Penelope is a joy to work with.”
The woman walked toward the door, then paused. “Good night, Penelope. Enjoy your evening. I will see you next week, perhaps?”
Why would she see me next week? I opened my mouth to ask, but she’d already slid through the door, closing it behind her.
I turned to look at Timothy. I’d thought him incredibly handsome at Judy and Ed’s house the night before, but this evening he was a chiseled work of art, a David come to life. I started to say something admiring, but he swung me into a kiss before I could speak.
When I came up for air, I realized that I hadn’t yet thanked him for all the deliveries. “Thank you for . . . I pointed to the roses. But about all these presents,” I started.
“Ah, good. I see you got the roses. Do you like them? No allergies, I hope.”
“No. I mean, no allergies. And yes, I love them. They are remarkably fragrant and lovely, but . . .”
“And the chocolates? I said I’d give you chocolates. It is appropriate for proper wooing.”
“Yes. Thank you. They’re in the refrigerator. Would you like some?”
He smiled. “We are on our way to dinner. I do not care to indulge at the moment. What about the fruit basket? Was it pleasing, as well?”
“Stop. Timothy, thank you for everything, but I don’t need presents. You have given me too much. We’ve only just met. This is our first date. It’s not appropriate for me to . . .”
“Nonsense. I intend to shower you with many gifts. You are special, and I wish to lavish everything your heart desires upon those bare and delightful shoulders.”
I had moved away from him after his kiss, but he’d been inching his way back towards me as he spoke. I hadn’t been aware really, thinking so hard about how to be tactful, but with his approximation, I once more felt the strength of him, his great height, and the way he was looking down into me as if he wanted to memorize everything about me. And then there was the way my body responded to him, urging me back into his arms. Quite alarming, really.
Fighting the compulsion, I took another step back. “Timothy, I like you, but I don’t know you. Please, slow down. No more talk like that.”