The Winter Project

35. Cleo

Cleo's first encounter was Nic was not the fairytale meeting that she had expected it to be. She tried not to focus on her shallow judgment of him and how he was slightly more overweight than his photographs and her imagination had created him to be in her mind. She was disappointed that when he first saw her he did not pick her up and spin her around, covering her face in cute little kisses, but instead stayed in the car and beckoned her to climb inside. She was disappointed that he was slightly irritable for having to make the drive from Milan to Verona to pick her up after a long day at work, for she had travelled much further in much more dire conditions than he had. She felt only slightly repulsed when he made a sexual comment about her, which was merely a continuation of one of their many phone conversations, and yet it felt wrong of him to dive straight into something in person that to her was only acceptable by phone, and when she was in the mood for it.

The drive was uncomfortable. His car had an overwhelmingly strong fresh-car scent and the leather seats felt warm and sticky as hot air erupted from the car heaters. Cleo had become accustomed to life in the van, where the heater didn't work and the seats were worn and shaped to her body. She found herself thinking like Isabel would, and praying that Nic wasn't a serial killer or a rapist. She knew that she had gotten into this situation herself, and she talked herself into remaining calm by wanting to prove Isabel wrong. Isabel had never even heard of Nic, but Cleo was so sure that Isabel would have judged her, and she needed to prove to Isabel in this imaginary conversation that this entire situation wasn't completely insane.

Throughout the entire journey to Milan, Cleo would pick up on any passing white vans and angrily shout at Nic to get closer to it. His natural Italian driving skills allowed him to gain speed and switch lanes with ease, but each time Cleo came window to window with the vans she was disappointed not to see Isabel in the drivers seat. She was not concerned for her friend's welfare. She only wanted to tell her that she was furious and she no longer considered Isabel to her friend. She wanted to wave her goodbye as she drove away in the uncomfortably warm car of her beloved serial killer.

Once they arrived in Milan, Cleo was petrified. As Nic drove into an underground car park that adjoined his apartment complex, he made another comment about getting her upstairs and finally doing all of the things to her that she had previously begged him to do. She was sweating profusely, possibly from the now unbearable heat of the car or the fear that Isabel would have been right to say this was a terrible idea. Cleo had nowhere to run and no way of getting home, but she knew for certain that if she went into his home she would be bound there by his strength and desire for sex that she had too willingly promised him.

'We should take things slow,' she said, trying to steady her voice in case he could pick up on her fear, in case he enjoyed it. 'I think I should stay in a hotel.'

'Are you sure?' he asked with concern.

'Yes!'

How dare he second-guess her, she thought.

'Well, of course,' he smiled, placing a hand on her knee that startled her more than she let on. 'There's some lovely hotels around here, and I'll be happy to pay for you.'

'No, I can pay for myself,' she snapped in retort. She was not going to be financially bound to this man.

'If you're sure, but you're my guest,' he replied. He left the car and took her directly back onto the street, to the safety of sunlight and passers by. 'I know it can be scary to meet someone online, so I'm not going to pressure you. Plus, I'm quite nervous.'

As she looked at him in the sunlight she saw a different side of him. A man with kind eyes who was happy to do things her way, a whole different man to the one making sexual comments to her as he drove her underground. She let the image of his gentle smile comfort her as he walked her to the nearest hotel, and she let him pay for her to stay there for, in his words, as long as she felt comfortable.

That night, the hotel room stayed cold and empty, for Cleo's inability to stop herself from drinking and making poor impulsive decisions led her into the nearest bar where Nic had agreed to meet her after she had insisted it was fine. As the night drew to a close, she found her wrapped up in Nic's body in his apartment as they both gave in to their natural urges. As he asked her if she had enjoyed the sex, her honest answer was that she could not remember.