Stranger at My Door

CH24: Ana

CH24: Ana

We are at the roof top of the Mile High club. It is an unusually warm night for this time of the year, I am wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt and an oversized sweater; the man said warm and comfortable. I should have listened to Kate and picked a different outfit – mental note: must pay attention to my outfits from now on. 

I bite my lower lip and try to hold my hair in place. I let my hair down and the breeze blows it every which way. The city spreads below us with a kaleidoscope of lights. Sunset was about an hour ago and the night sky is cloudless and has a grey tint. I see yellow and pink lights around the ferris wheel in the distance, as well as all the city lights being reflected back; the water is still almost like glass.

“You look beautiful Ana!”

“Ah?” – yes very articulate Steele. “I like the city at night, it is so serene!”

At a distance a police siren blasts and Christian laughs. “Illusions, that’s all.”

He is holding me, his hands around my waist, his head on top of mine, and we sway one way and then the other to the beat of the Jazz music reverberating from the club below. He turns me around and engulfs me in his arms. We stay like that, dancing while I inhale his scent, while I feel his warmth, I feel his muscles under my arms, moving with grace, strong and well defined – I do not want to ever let go.

“Yeah, but it is still a beautiful view.” I smile at him. “Thank you.”

“We aim to please! Come, it is time to get back.”

We walk back to the private dining room at the Mile High Club – which of course Mr. crazy-rich-Grey owns; our food is brought out one dish after the other by unobtrusive almost invisible servers. We have Dungeness Crab Gratinée, Broccoli Agnolotti, and Wild Striped Bass. All of which was pre-ordered by Mr. Control himself before we even arrived. All of it delicious and we make small talk throughout. Christian talks about his time at Harvard and being part of the rowing team, I talk about my childhood. He acts as if it was the most interesting story ever.

When he drops me off at my apartment, I invite him up. I walk him through the first floor mentioning all the changes that will be happening soon. We sit by the fireplace in the sitting room, my feet are over his lap, his legs are stretched out towards the fireplace and he stretches out like a cat. I giggle and mention the silly cat, Cow, which I rescued when I was young.

Cow the cat was alone, probably his mother was killed by an animal or car, abandoned mewing under the stairs at my school; I found him, rescued him, fed him, and kept him. As payment for saving his life, he became my best friend and kept me company when I was a child – I pretended he was human and could understand everything I said maybe because I did not have any siblings.

“Cow the cat!” Christian laugh makes him look his age, young and care free.

“In my defense, I was eleven when I named him!”

“Why in the world would you name a cat cow?”

“He had black and white patches that reminded me of a cow. He was the best cat ever!” I tell him sincerely.

“I think you may be biased.”

“Probably.” I acknowledge that I may be biased. “He liked to sleep by the fireplace and would stretch like that.” Christian smiles and pretends to stretch again; I scratch behind his left ear and he purrs; it makes me smile and he rewards me with a bright smile of his own.

“Yes, just like that. He would sit on the window sill too, and try to lick the condensation off the inside of the windows as the snow melted on the outside. Every day I came home from school, I had to clean the darn windows.” I say with mock indignation - I wish Cow was with me now; he would be a very good companion. I wonder if he would like Christian.