A Room With A View

Chapter Thirty-One - Brian

October 4th, Wednesday

Brian never expected to find himself in a room with nine women.

He should amend that statement.

Brian never expected to find himself in a room with nine women who had actually invited him to be there. Alina sometimes asked Brian to come to her parties in an attempt to get him out of the house. The girls there tended to flirt with him more out of sport than any actual interest. Alina said they liked to watch him blush and sputter over his words. The women in his books were always much easier to speak with than the women in real life.

The nine women in Elena's apartment, however, were looking at him with genuine interest. They were all dressed in various shades of pastel, with cardigans and pearl chokers, and nylon stockings tucked into sensible flats. Each strand of hair was perfectly curled and colored, with only Elena's looking ragged and unkempt. Despite their staid appearances, they were all clutching Home Run to their chests, the baseball player's abs rippling from the cover. One of the women in Elena's apartment winked at him. A quick heat reddened Brian's cheeks. She was the woman who lived in the Watley with the grizzled old bulldog. Elizabeth was her name, if Brian remembered it correctly.

Brian adjusted his glasses and looked up toward the orange ceiling. He had been speculating over it for so long, it was strange to finally be inside the apartment. Elena told him that she had wanted a Mediterranean vibe. She'd certainly achieved it. Everything felt old and rustic, with carved furniture and a columned archway leading into the kitchen. A cornflower blue vase stood high up on a mottled green shelf. The sharp color of it was so out of place with everything else in the room, Brian couldn't help but stare.

"I found that little thing in a flea market in Venice," Elena said proudly. "I saw it and I just knew I had to have it." The other women looked up at the vase and murmured appreciatively.

"Now Mr. Cooper--Brian--we are just thrilled to have you here today. Please take a seat and tell us what inspired you to write Sunset at the Cove." Elena sat down on the coffee-colored couch and patted the space next to her. Brian caught sight of his apartment out the window before sitting down. It was odd seeing it from this perspective. Only his writing desk was visible through the window, with his grandfather's Royal typewriter almost teetering off the edge. With a flush, Brian wondered if he had ever walked across his apartment in the nude.

Seeming to read his thoughts, Elena smiled at him. "Don't worry," she said reassuringly, "you don't do anything weird in your apartment. You just sit there and type away, making us all wonder what the next Great American Novel is going to be."

Brian nodded, and pushed his glasses up his nose. His hand shook around the stem of his wine glass. He hadn't had a sip, but the other women were already into their second glass. They'd spent a good fifteen minutes gossiping about so-and-so and what's-his-name before settling in to discuss the matter at hand.

Elizabeth leaned forward. The scoop neck of her satin shirt fell away from her skin, and Brian immediately fixed his eyes back on the blue vase, not wanting to appear like he was looking down her blouse.

"I really loved the scene when Ira and Cici are at the cove," Elizabeth said. The other ladies nodded heartily, and took large gulps of their wine.

"Because leading up to that point," Elizabeth continued, explaining Brian's own book to him, "they hadn't been able to be together. It was Ira's insecurity and Cici's inability to be contained that kept them apart. But then they end up at the cove and watch the sunset, and I tell you what, it was the most beautiful, subtlety romantic scene I've ever read. It made me feel more than Beneath the Kilt."