Another Choice – Chapter 1

“Another Choice” by JunoMagic

Chapter 1

He sat very still, in this large room filled with some of the world’s best paintings. His dark hair was cut down to a stubble, revealing shapely, and very pointy ears that adorned a face any of the old masters would have been delighted to paint.

She knew that at least four of the other female visitors in the room were actually not looking at the paintings at all, but surreptitiously staring at this man. This, even more than his attractiveness, made her finally approach him.

She sat down on the bench next to him. “Hi, I’m Corinne,” she said, holding out her hand. “Are you enjoying Franz Marc as much as I am?”

She waited for a moment, taking in the slight smile tugging at the corners of his wide mouth. “Are you aware that you look like an elf straight out of ‘Lord of the Rings’?”

He raised a delicately slanted eyebrow at her. Now he was definitely grinning at her. “Really? I thought all of them had long hair. And my ears don’t come off.”

“Are you sure?” she asked and clapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

“Quite sure,” he countered. “And no, I am not offering you to try and pull them off. Instead, might I invite you to join me for a drink?”

His eyes were a peculiar grey shade, almost silver – really a bright colour, but there were shadows lost within them that were… strange. As if… Almost as if… She shook off her musings and smiled at him. “I would love to, Mr…?”

“Anderson?” he suggested, but then he smiled, an unexpectedly warm, young, smile. “My name is Sternendom. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He rose from the bench in the fluid motion of a dancer or an artist. Or of someone who has had tens of thousands of years to practice such a simple movement… she thought absentmindedly. He offered her his arm, and she accepted.

As they left the exhibition, she felt the envious glances of several women burning on her back. She caught a glance from the corners of his eyes and realized that he was not only well aware of the reaction of the other women, but that he had been waiting for someone to approach him, for someone to treat him as if he was real. To prove to himself that he was real? She frowned. She was not used to having such strange thoughts upon meeting an attractive man.

She cast another furtive glance at his handsome features. He looked so sad! Yes, that was it. He looked as if he had lost his happiness more than a thousand years ago.

He looked as if he was for real, was her next thought.

Her heart beat grew almost painfully heavy.

“You… you look so… sad,” she heard herself say, and what was that for a thing to say to an attractive man she had only just met! “As if you… as if you haven’t been happy for a thousand years.”

He halted his stride, in the middle of the busy hall and turned to her. His silver eyes were veiled, the skin seemed drawn tight over bones that were nobler and more delicate than those of ordinary human beings

“Maybe because this is true,” he replied simply. He hesitated, then continued. “Do you still want to have a drink with me?”

For a long moment she simply stared at him. Then she slowly replied, all at once acutely aware that this one, short answer might change her whole life.

“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”

oooOooo

To her surprise he took her to one of the best bars in the city, a modern, stylish place that had been the topic of several magazines during the last few months. Corinne had heard from a colleague that normally you had to book at table at least eight weeks in advance by now. But her strange companion only smiled at the bouncer, an intimidating giant in a sleek black suit, who nodded almost deferentially before he stepping back to admit them to the bar with a gesture that looked almost like a small bow.

Although it was still early, barely six pm, the place was already full. Corinne scanned the crowd. There were rich and doubtlessly powerful businessmen and businesswomen, who obviously knew the proprietor well enough to be able to just drop in before another few hours of work. There were a couple of tourists, gazing around with round eyes as if they were in yet another museum. Two or three tables were filled with groups of young people who had obviously a reason to celebrate. Corinne guessed that these were tables that had actually been ordered eight weeks in advance.

And then there was a small table at the back, right at the window front with a breathtaking view across the city. A small red sign sat in the middle of the table: “reserved”. Mr Sternendom led her straight to that table. With an elegant, practiced movement, he pulled out the chair for her.

“But it’s reserved,” she objected, raising inquiring eyes to his — and almost gasped. She had always been a girl who fell for beautiful eyes. But his eyes … whenever she looked into his eyes, she felt completely mesmerized, and an embarrassing spark of desire sizzled through her body.

He awarded her a faint smile, and his eyes grew a hue cooler and more distant, as if he was aware of the effect he was having on her. “Yes,” he replied. “For me. Jack keeps that table reserved so that I can drop in whenever I feel like it.”

“Wow,” was her undignified reaction. She sounded and behaved like a silly teenager. She had stop this. For once she’d been asked out by a beautiful, enigmatic, and obviously rich man. She had to live up to that date, no matter how he affected her. Flashing him a smile, she settled down. “Thank you.”

He nodded and took the armchair on the other side of the table. Half hidden in the shadows of the corner, he was able to watch the entire room and to enjoy the view. Mr Sternendom definitely had taste. And an eye for details.

“Well,” she breathed. “I never imagined I might end up in such a stylish place tonight. This is a grand surprise.”

Another small smile. “It is important to hold on to the small joys of life. I recommend the martini cocktails. They are really excellent.”

“Shaken or stirred?”

He just lifted one of his dark, elegant eyebrows. She couldn’t help chuckling. All at once, for no reason that she could put a finger on, she felt at ease. “I’ll go along. You know this place — I’ve just drooled over descriptions in the ‘Hottest Hundred’-list.”

Sternendom only cast a quick glance in the direction of the bar and a waiter appeared with a jug of ice water and two glasses. He quickly placed the water on the table, then smiled expectantly at her companion.

“Mr Sternendom, what a pleasure to have you here tonight. What can I do for you?”

“The usual for me, and one of your golden martinis for the lady. And maybe some plate with something to snack on.”

The waiter smiled and nodded. “How about our daily selection? Plates for two?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll be right back.” The waiter disappeared in the crowd.

“Well.” Corinne studied the face of her mysterious escort. She was determined not to allow any awkward silences to grow between them. The one time she went on an adventure date would be a success, she promised herself. “Drinks and snacks. That sounds almost like a date, Mr Sternendom. Or do you have a first name, too?”

“Several, in fact. You may call me El.” Amusement flashed in his eyes, a grin seemed to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“El?” Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “El like … the Hebrew word for God or El like the Spanish article or El like Ely?”

He shook his head. “Just El. Please.”

She winced. She had only wanted to be witty. “I’m sorry.”

Luckily their drinks arrived at that moment, and she was saved from the dreaded awkward silence by the opportunity to admire her cocktail, to smell and to savour it.

“This is really a beautiful drink,” she exclaimed. The golden colour, the slice of orange, the rim of brown sugar, the leaf draped around the straw … and then the tart, bittersweet taste … like the sunset on the last day of a perfect vacation. She sighed happily and sipped again.

“Thank you for the tip.”

El smiled. “There’s no one who does martini cocktails quite like Jack in this city.”

“But you’re not one for cocktails?” Corinne nodded at the glass of whisky sitting in front of the man.

“Sometimes. Not today.” He gazed at her in silence for a moment. His extraordinary eyes darkened. The thin stubble of his hair looked thicker and darker in the shadows. The pointy tips of his pale ears all the more surprising. “Why did you approach me in the museum?”

“In order to be asked out for a drink by a handsome man?” She regretted her attempt to be flippant instantly, when he leaned back just a little, his posture growing just a little stiff, just a little less than relaxed.

She sighed and stared into her drink. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not quite sure.”

After taking another sip of her cocktail, she raised her head again and faced him. “I cannot deny that you initially caught my attention because of your looks.”

Raised eyebrows and a quivering lip hinted at amusement, at least. She rolled her eyes and lifted her hands. “Well, what can I say? I am only human! And you do … look different. For some reason I had the feeling you belonged more to the pictures than any of us, as if — as if you were at home within those pictures. What a strange thought! And then I did not like how some of the other visitors stared at you. Noticing an attractive man is one thing, but outright ogling?”

“So you did not, in fact ‘ogle’ me?” The grin was broad and audible.

She hid her face behind her glass before replying diffidently. “If the circumstances had been different, I might have. I think I mentioned it: I’m only human.” She put her glass down. “But not there, not today. I may be totally off, but for some reason I felt that you had come to look at the pictures because you were lonely. You looked so sad. Almost like — almost as if you were looking at old photographs of long ago, and happier days.” She frowned and wrinkled her nose. “Okay, this sounds like a load of melodramatic bullshit. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have left it at ‘Yes, I was trying to hit on you, Mr Sternendom’.”

Now he laughed, a strange, dark, bittersweet laugh. It reminded her of the taste of her martini cocktail. “But that wouldn’t have been the truth, no matter that you are ‘only human’.”

For a moment he turned his whisky glass idly in his hands. Then he gazed at her again, his face opener than before, his expression not quite as guarded. She caught another hint of the emotions she had almost believed to be nothing but figments of her imagination but a moment ago: a bone-deep sadness, and loneliness that clung to his skin like heavy perfume.

“You are different, too, I think. Corinne.”

“Am I?” She knew that her voice betrayed bitterness. “I don’t think so.”

Hers was not an unusual or a tragic story. She had been in love once, truly, and deeply in love. But he had not been right for her. She had not been right for him. He had found a better partner. A partner who really made him happy. Their separation had been civilized. And by now she was good friends with his wife. Three or four times a year they met up, usually for a day trip with the kids … And then. She tried not to think of it. And then … three years ago, he had died. Cancer of the stomach. It had been incredibly fast and incredibly cruel. She had tried to keep in touch with his widow, but somehow that had not worked without him. And then … it was already so long ago that they had separated it sometimes seemed to her that it had happened in another life, in another age … well, somehow or other it had simply never clicked for her since then. Things had never been good quite good enough for her to want to change the arrangements of her life, her career. She’d probably got simply too set in her ways to meet her special someone by now. A few years ago she’d stopped dating. It was just too much of a hassle. She was happy the way she lived her life. Free, independent. And there were always friends and colleagues and acquaintances. It was not as if there was no one who was close to her. She sighed. Only, there was really no one who was really close to her. Sometimes, she was very lonely. Not necessarily for a man. But for someone who would ease that ache in her heart. Someone who would know her, who would really know her. Who would ask “How are you?” and expect an honest answer.

He shook his head lightly. “You know about being lonely. I can see that in your eyes.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. She turned to the window and the view of the city. “But I’m hardly special for that. Look at that! I read the other day that this city has the highest rate of singles in the world. People are always so busy with their lives that they never have the chance to find someone to settle down with. Or even to settle down on their own. There’s been some discussion how this will affect our health system in thirty years, when all those well-off singles start growing old …”

She sighed and turned her attention back to him. Her heart stirred when she looked at him. There was something about him that touched her deeply, deeper than the liquid roll and pull of desire that his presence also provoked within her.

She opened her mouth, then mentally shook her head at herself, and just moistened her lips and pressed her teeth together firmly. He was studying her face intently.

Suddenly he bent forwards, forcing her to meet his eyes again. “I am attracted to you, too,” he said in a low voice. “You are a beautiful, unusual woman.”

She gasped.

“But I cannot give you what you seek,” he went on. “There is no love left in my heart to give to anyone. My love died many, many years ago.”

She felt her mouth gape, and her heart started to beat faster. For a moment she was dazed and did not know what to say, or even to think. On the one hand his words could be interpreted as one of the bluntest invitations to a one-night-stand she had ever heard. On the other hand what he said sounded so … sincere and so sad …

“You certainly don’t lose any time playing games, Mr Sternendom.” Her voice sounded dry and detached.

Those eyebrows again. “I am too old for a certain kind of games. Did you hear what I said? I cannot give you what you are looking for.”

“I’m not deaf.” She knew that she sounded testy. This unexpected rendezvous was not going the way she had imagined it would. She found she could not look away. Those deep, sad, silvery eyes, those noble, clear features. If he let his hair grow out, it would probably turn out to be black and silky like any good romance novel sable. And damn, she still wanted to touch those ears. She sighed. And those lips … His lips were just as beautiful as the rest of him.

“May I please?” the waiter interrupted them politely.

Corinne almost jumped from her chair, her heart pounding now, her face flushing with heat.

“Appetizers for two.” The waiter smiled eagerly as he set out plates and a huge tray heaped with various tapas. “I hope you enjoy the selection.”

A moment later he was back and placed a bottle of white wine in a cooler on the table. “With special regards from Mr Jack. He hopes you have a nice evening.”

Sternendom frowned, but in the end he smiled. “Please pass on my thanks. I’ve received the message. Tell Jack that I am enjoying myself. Or trying very hard, at least. Anything else?”

The waiter fidgeted a little.

El frowned. “Yes? A message, I presume?”

“Uh, sir. Indeed, sir. Ah …”

El just shook his head. “Let’s hear it. And don’t worry –” He glanced at the waiter’s name sign. “Tonio. I won’t hold your boss’s messages against you.”

“Ah.” Tonio cleared his throat. “Thank you, sir. I am supposed to tell you –” He cast a nervous glance at Corinne. She snorted.

“Please go ahead, Tonio. I won’t up and run in a snit, I promise.”

“Well, ma’am. Sir. I’m supposed to say that you please should not scare her off by being all grim and — uh — ‘dour’.” The waiter gulped audibly.

Corinne broke out laughing, and even solemn Mr Sternendom’s expression seemed to quiver with barely contained mirth.

“Don’t worry, Tonio, he’s not being very terribly grim and … ‘dour’ tonight. Tell … Mr Jack was it?”

The waiter nodded.

“Tell Mr Jack not to worry.”

Tonio actually bowed to them, and left quickly, the set of his shoulders betraying relief.

“So you and Jack go way back, hm?”

El shrugged and exhaled his breath in a deep sigh. “A long way, yes.”

“That’s good.” Maybe she should call Karen again, one of these days. She turned her attention back to the man on the other side of the table. He had not touched any of the tapas, although the smell made her stomach grumble regardless of attraction and ‘dour’ conversation.

“You said that you cannot give me what I am looking for. Let’s leave aside that I had not even mentioned that I am, in fact, looking for anything. Somehow I doubt that you often invite women just like that.” Her eyes flew to the bar, where Tonio was busy with a tray.

Sternendom inclined his head.

“So I think you asked me out for a reason.” She played with her straw for a bit, trying to gather her thoughts. She could literally feel his eyes on her. A heavy, enticing, intimate weight. It had been a long time since she had experienced flurries of desire quite like this.

She inhaled deeply. You only live once, she told herself. Maybe it’s time for bold decisions, since playing along got you nowhere in years and years.

“So you may not be able to give me what I am looking for. But somehow I am beginning to think that you are looking for something, too.”

She had his complete attention now. His eyes were blazing, he was staring at her so hard. Her heart was beating so heavily that she could feel the rhythm of her pulsing blood in her ears.

“Maybe I can give you what you are looking for?”

oooOooo

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