The Promenade

She changed into her street shoes on a bench and he put on his hat, then they wandered about for a while, quietly; Rhi, trying to remember if she had applied solar filter this morning and Paul, lighting up a cigarette.

- I'd love one of those... - She mumbled, almost hoping he wouldn't hear her.

- A smoke? - He seemed confused.

She let out a little laugh, assenting.

- But I thought you didn't smoke?

She shrugged.

- I try not to, and I certainly don't during working hours, but we're just walking now so I guess I can...

He swiftly and silently offered her the pack of Light Camels, from where she extracted one fag, whispering an overly shy thank you. He offered fire for her to light it up and she inhaled, happily. He grinned. 

- I'm glad we got to do this. - He casually announced.

She wondered what "this" meant, but felt it would be awful to ask. Maybe he just meant smoking, maybe he meant bonding differently from just work matters, maybe all of it. Who cared?

- It's been a nice afternoon. - She let out softly. 

They continued walking through Center Drive until they both finished their cigarettes. They were near the Dakota Building now. 

- I live here, just a block away. - She observed, she didn't even know why.

- Want me to walk you there, or do you have other plans?

- Walking there now would be fine. Don't want you to be late for your... thing... later.

- Ah, just some sailing with the homies. They can't leave without me cause I'm bringing the booze.

He had an impish smile as he said this.

- Sailing at night. Sounds fun. It's probably the only way I'd like to sail. I shun the sunshine a bit...

- I see. - He looked at the pale skin on her neck. 

- And I see you don't. - She glanced at his tan, toned, tattooed arm.

- Nope, not at all. I spend part of the year in beaches in Australia, Panama and other places, surfing.

- Interesting...

They walked on 72nd street now. 

- What do you usually think about when you walk here? - He inquired, suddenly.

- Uhm... I don't know. That John Lennon was killed here? 

- Aha. I usually think that Alistair Crowley lived here. He maybe performed portal-opening rituals and that's why strange things happen... 

She turned to look at his face, to see if he was serious. She couldn't tell.

- That's a weird thing to think. - She finally mumbled.

- I know, I'm weird. Also, know what movie was filmed here in the 60's?

They looked at each other understandingly and she sang:

- Rosemary...

He nodded and they laughed again.

- You're extraordinary... - He mused out loud.

Rhi didn't know how to respond to his compliments, so she was really glad they had arrived to her building.

- It's here! - She announced.

- OK, then, I'll free you of the burden of my company now. - He uttered, standing right in front of her.

- Have fun at your boat party... but not too much... 

- Don't worry, if I get too drunk, fall out and die, you'll still get your fees.

- You know it's not the money I'd be worried about. - She answered in an offended tone.

- Really? What then?

He leaned a bit closer. "Oh no, no, no, no". She thought.

- Amazing indie music... - She pronounced every word separately as she stepped back some milimeters.

He chuckled.

- Why, thanks. I'll try not to die today then. You have a good evening.

- Likewise... - She answered distractedly, she was wondering what perfume he was wearing. It smelt heavenly.

Before she realised, he leant towards her and kissed her cheek. She felt her face burn, especially where he had touched it with his lips. He immediately turned around and started walking back to Central Park.

- See you on the 13th! - She called.

- You bet! - He yelled back, without turning around.

Rhi noticed her heart was racing and her hands were sweaty. "This can't be good." She told herself as the lift took her to her 9th story apartment.

She could still make it to her 7 o'clock yoga class if she hurried a bit, but she was so relaxed, she just sprawled on the armchair she had facing a window which overlooked 72nd street.  She put her chin on her knees and realised she smelt like smoke.

 "Delicious." She thought. Camels. "Quitting would be impossible if I got on with Paul... unless we quit together..." She noticed what she had just been thinking. "He surely has a girl, you tool, and she doesn't want to make him change. You should try that with your own boyfriend."

She started wondering if Lee hadn't been distant because she had been asking him to move out of TriBeCa once they were married. He loved his penthouse, but penthouses were for single young players, not married couples... Maybe if she were more open-minded, she wouldn't disagree with Lee on everything.

Suddenly, the high spirits from her date with The Client abandoned her. The reality was, he was probably drinking champagne off of some model's belly button and she was here, thinking about why her boyfriend was away while she had to plan their wedding.

-

Paul sat on the edge of the boat, beer in hand and sighed, satisfied. The owner of the boat, Patrick, came sit by him with a cigar.

- So how's the thing with Aiden going? - He asked cautiously, he knew the subject got into Paul's nerves, but he was curious.

Paul sighed.

- A very good lawyer is taking care of it.

- Did you go to the firm Jeff told you?

- Aha. One of the owners is representing me.

- Oh, make sure you give me his name in case I run into a situation myself...

- Her, it's a woman. A wonderful woman. I will give you her number if you promise not to try to hit on her.

Patrick smirked, eyeing Paul.

- Wonderful? Are you fucking her?

Paul snorted.

- Why do people take for granted I fuck every woman I meet?

- Well, you're quite fuckable, I guess... - His friend laughed. - So are you? Fucking your lawyer?

- Hah, I wish...