Page 29 of His Curvy Temptation

Because she seems kind. And hard-working. And like she deserves a chance.

But the request doesn’t come. She doesn’t ask me for any favors as she elaborates on her dreams, her five year plan, her ten year plan. Her eyes are alight with passion as she describes it all in great detail and I can tell she’s thought about it a lot.

Seeing this, my respect for her only grows.

Our meals are finished, and when the waiter comes by to get our dessert order, Andy shakes her head.

“I’m way too full,” she says, looking at me. “And you’ve already been so generous.”

I’m disappointed. I’m not ready for the night to be over, and one more course would give us a chance to keep talking, for me to learn more facts about Andy to add to my growing collection.

“How about a coffee?” I ask. “They’ve got a great cafe con panna.”

“You’re the boss,” she says. “After the wine, a little caffeine sounds great.”

I order for the both of us, feeling relief that I can prolong the goodbye for a little while longer. The waiter is back quickly, setting the two small mugs and saucers in front of us. I give him my Amex black card without looking at the bill, wanting as few interruptions as possible for the rest of our date.

“So, something you said keeps bothering me,” Andy says carefully after the waiter walks away.

My stomach drops.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Earlier, you said you’re vengeful, that everyone is less vengeful than you are,” she says. “But…you don’t seem that way to me right now.”

“You mentioned,” I reply. “I can’t believe I don’t scare you.”

“Should you?”

“Maybe,” I say. “I don’t know. I’m so used to people responding to me in a certain way. I guess I don’t know any different and it’s odd, being with someone who meets me at my level. Not afraid of me, not kissing my ass or trying to get something out of me.”

“That sounds like it can be lonely,” she comments.

I drain the rest of my mug and think about her words. Is it lonely? Fuck yeah it is. Only, I don’t think about it very much. I keep myself occupied with work, outrunning my own demons, avoiding my own inner thoughts and — gag–– my feelings, too.

“I just…I don’t know you very well and I’m wondering what you mean when you say you can be vengeful. You fired Dan, for instance, and it almost sounds like you’re going to try to ruin his career too. Like it’s not enough to fire him for something, you have to make sure you follow him wherever he goes afterwards. Vengeful.”

“Vengeful,” I agree.

“Have you always been this way?” she asks.

“No,” I say honestly. “Well. Maybe a little. But the military sort of changed me.”

I don’t elaborate, not sure how much I want to tell her. She knows more than I meant to tell her already, and giving the full story might be the difference between a second date…or her running for the hills.

“Changed you,” she repeats, sipping her drink. “I can imagine it changes everyone to some degree. How did it change you though? It made you more…vengeful? Angry?”

“Yes and yes,” I reply. “I mean, it’s not like every guy who comes out of the service has to be transformed into a militant asshole or something. That’s a stereotype. It’s not always like that. But I had to do some work when I got out.”

“Work like therapy?” she asks.

Bingo. Even though I’m trying to hold back, Andy is jumping forward, uncomfortably close to the truth as though she can read my mind, my forehead transparent, a window into my mind where the truth is projected in big bold letters:Warning – This man is screwed up. Do not get too close.

“Like therapy,” I say. “Even if I didn’t get hurt in the field, I saw some stuff that…that most people don’t have to see in their lifetime. It changes people, witnessing that kind of thing. Therapy is a necessary tool.”

“Do you still go?”

“To therapy?”

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