“And what’s so special about this one tenant?” Jack asked, zeroing in on the issue faster than Martin had expected. “If they’re all upset, then why do you care about one of them?”
Wyatt and Jack stared at Martin, waiting for his answer.
“It’s—” Martin hesitated again.
How to put it into words? He lifted his drink to his lips and took a long, draining sip. The ice cubes clanked against his teeth.
He looked around the room, and found one of the brunette waitresses not far away. He held up his finger to indicate that he wanted another drink. She nodded and disappeared.
He looked back to his friends.
“It’s a woman,” he said, his voice laden with meaning.
Jack laughed.
Wyatt frowned and leaned back in his chair.
“Of course it’s a woman!” Jack said. “It’s always about a woman.”
“Women,” Wyatt said with a tone of commiseration. “Victoria’s been driving me crazy. Women are so dramatic. What’s this girl doing? Giving you some kind of legal run-around?” he asked.
Martin looked to Wyatt. “Did I hear Victoria walked out on you?” he asked, recalling a scrap of gossip he’d picked up online.
“Fuck. Yeah,” Wyatt said. He drained the last of his drink and Martin saw him signal for a second drink as well.
The waitress arrived with Martin’s bourbon and he accepted it gratefully.
“Why the hell did she do that?” Jack asked.
Martin felt glad that the conversation was momentarily off of him, and that his feelings towards were no longer in the spotlight. He was almost afraid of what he would find if he looked too deeply.
What do I feel about her? he wondered. What is it about her that makes her special? Why do I care what she thinks?
So… we had sex. I’ve had nights like that before… plenty of them.
Something nagged at the edges of his mind. It didn’t feel like that, though, he realized. I’ve never felt so… connected. So relaxed. So at home with someone.
It struck him as ironic, suddenly, that he and had spent the night in her apartment, in the same space that he would one day be living, though different wood, bricks, cement, and iron would be constructed around him. I’ll be living in the same place where we made love, he thought. I’ll never escape it.
And I wouldn’t want to.
That night was… special.
Wyatt was telling the story of his on-again-off again relationship with a high maintenance woman that Martin had met on various occasions.
Though he’d never tell his friend this, he thought that Wyatt was better off without the bitch. She was always complaining about one thing or another. Wyatt’s story about her latest hissy fit didn’t surprise him.
He listed to Wyatt’s tale of being left on the evening of his tenth anniversary with Victoria, feeling pity for his friend. Why do you put up with it? he thought, watching Wyatt speak. That’s not love.
What’s love? he thought. All of his life, he’d been clear about what love wasn’t. He’d known, since he’d first spent time with Wyatt and Victoria, that the two weren’t in love. He’d known it with other couples as well.
When he saw couples in love, he knew it. They looked at each other in a certain way.
They had a glow about them.
Suddenly, he thought of the way he’d felt towards . As if their energy fields just clicked. As if when he was next to her, he was more alive.
Do we have the glow? he wondered. If I saw us, would I see two people in love?
“Man, I’m sorry,” Jack was saying with empathy, gripping Wyatt’s shoulder and giving it a hearty squeeze. “You deserve better.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Anyways,” he said. “That’s my poor-me tale. Martin, buddy, what’s going on with your tenant?”
Martin was still shocked by his revelation that he may have experienced the mystical ‘love’ state that he’d, until then, only observed in others.
He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to speak. He shifted his glass across the table, and it made a low growl as it slid against the polished wood.
“Oh, this is a big deal,” Jack observed, sitting forward.
“She’s… She’s something else, this woman,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Wyatt said. “Martin, buddy, you got it bad, don’t you. Did you fall for this girl?”
Martin thought over his situation. Have I fallen for her?
“No, she’s pissed about the building, right Martin?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” Martin said, looking from one friend to the other. “Yes, to both of you. I think I’m falling for her. And she’s most definitely upset that I’m tearing down her place of residence.”
“Shit!” Jack exclaimed. The cloud of cigar smoke was growing thick around them. Wyatt leaned back in his seat. He let out a chuckle. “Well that’s a helluva pickle,” Wyatt said. “I thought I was in a rough spot, but I think yours takes it.”
Martin shook his head. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. He looked to his friends, hoping they might give him the answers that he needed.
But they looked just as clueless as he felt.
“Just be careful, man.” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “Love can be a real bitch. At least that’s been my experience.”
Martin looked at his friend. That’s because what you and Victoria have—that isn’t love, he thought.
He didn’t respond, but only nodded instead.
But and I… he thought. What do we have? Could it be love?Could it turn into love?
“How about this InfoForce opportunity?” Jack asked, turning the conversation towards the investment opportunity that had initiated the meeting in the first place.
Martin was relieved to talk business. It seemed much easier than discussing his feelings about the woman who was causing him so much inner turmoil. Yet in the back of his mind, he didn’t stop thinking about her.
Is it love? he wondered. How will I know? What’s my next move?